Chapter 36
36
HANNAH
A fter dinner, I brought Nikko back to my tiny eight-hundred square-foot apartment. It was the space I’d lovingly referred to as “cozy” but secretly felt a little self-conscious about now that he was here. It wasn’t glamorous and was about as far from pretentious as one could get. One day, I would have an apartment on the Upper West Side with a beautiful view of the Manhattan skyline.
Well, that had been the dream, but after today, that dream was getting further and further away. It made me think I may never get it. I was destined to live in this tiny apartment and spend my days busting ass for other people to get the accolades.
But that wasn’t important. Appearances didn’t matter. Of all the people I brought to my place, I knew Nikko would be one of the less judgmental. He wasn’t like that. He couldn’t give a shit about my address or my view.
I still couldn’t believe he’d actually come to Boise—my little corner of the world. Even if part of the reason was because Miami was getting a little too hot. It still meant a lot to me that when he ran from his home, he ran to me. Long distance seemed a lot easier when we were parked in my designated spot in front of the building I called home.
“Is that the only bag you brought?” I asked, gesturing to the duffel in the back seat.
“Yep,” Nikko said, grabbing the bag. “Traveling light. Never know when I might need to move quickly. You won’t even know I’m here. I won’t leave a bunch of shit lying about.”
I laughed. “Trust me, with the size of my place, a sock will make the entire place look a mess, but that’s not your fault.”
I led him up to the second floor and unlocked the door. “So, this is the place,” I said, pushing open the door with a flourish and flipping on the lights. “Welcome to Casa de Hannah.”
Nikko stepped inside, glancing around with mock seriousness. “Hmm, I like what you’ve done with the place. Very ‘minimalist with a dash of mid-life crisis.’”
“Excuse me?” I laughed, nudging him in the side. “This is peak Pinterest chic, thank you very much.”
He wandered around, his gaze flicking from the tiny kitchen to the slightly sagging sofa. Then he spotted the open shelving above my desk and squinted. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” I asked, peering over his shoulder.
“This… thing.” He reached up and grabbed my crochet cactus, holding it like it might bite.
“It’s a cactus,” I said, taking it from him.
“It’s soft. Isn’t that exactly the opposite of a cactus?”
“Because it’s crochet, genius.”
He smirked. “You crochet now? I learn something new every day.”
“I don’t crochet. I bought it at a craft fair,” I said, crossing my arms. “It’s cute. And the old lady that made it was nice. I wanted to help her out.”
“I don’t know if cute is the word I would use,” he joked.
I watched him take in the rest of the room. He spotted the collage frame with me and my friends and moved to look at it.
Nikko studied the collection of photos. I watched him smiling at some of the goofier ones .
“That’s from college graduation,” I explained, pointing to a photo of me with Tara and Rachel, our arms around each other and graduation caps slightly askew. “Tara was so hungover that day, but you’d never know from the picture.”
He chuckled, moving to another photo. “And this one?”
It was a group shot from a ski trip, all of us bundled up in puffy jackets, our cheeks red from the cold and wind. “Winter trip to Sun Valley. I’m not much of a skier, but they drag me along every year.”
Nikko’s gaze softened as he looked at the photos. “You’ve got good friends.”
“The best,” I agreed.
He picked up a trinket from a shelf, a small ceramic owl with a chipped wing. “And this?”
I smiled, remembering. “My grandmother gave me that. She always said owls were wise and would watch over me.”
Nikko set the owl back carefully, his fingers lingering for a moment. Then he turned to me, his expression suddenly serious. “Hannah, about Miami. About everything that happened…”
I held up a hand. “We don’t have to rehash it all. We’re even, remember? And we’re here. That’s what matters.”
He nodded, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. “I just want you to know I’m sorry. For how I reacted. For not listening.”
“We were both pretty messed up,” I said softly. “Let’s just… start over. How about we open some wine and sit down?”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
He followed me to the kitchen, where I pulled a bottle of red from the tiny rack by the fridge and grabbed two glasses. A few minutes later, we were settled on the sofa, my legs draped lazily over his lap as we sipped our wine and let the day’s stress melt away.
“This is nice,” I said, twirling the stem of my glass between my fingers.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice low and warm.
We sat in comfortable silence for a bit, but I could tell his mind was still elsewhere. “So have you thought about your next steps?” I asked him .
He tilted his head back, groaning softly. “Ugh, don’t remind me. My head’s been a mess, to be honest.”
“What happened that night?” I asked. “You said it was your father’s debts?”
He snorted. “Yeah. I got jumped.”
“What?”
Nikko took a swig of wine before setting down his glass. “Remember how I told you my old man owed some people money? Turns out, they decided I was going to be the one to pay up.”
I sat up straighter, my hand instinctively reaching for his. “What happened?”
“Two guys cornered me near my car after I dropped you off at the hotel,” he explained, his voice tight. “Rich, the bigger guy, said my father owed ten grand to someone. They wanted me to settle the debt or they would fuck me up to send a message.”
“Did you know these guys?”
He shook his head. “Professional enforcers. Guys who collect debts for people who don’t like taking ‘no’ for an answer. One had a knife. They weren’t interested in talking it out like rational adults.”
I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as he remembered that night. “So, they attacked you?”
Nikko sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They tried. I didn’t go down easy. Fought back. Got pretty banged up, but I got out of there in one piece.”
I traced my fingers along a faded bruise on his jaw. “You could have been seriously hurt.”
“I’ve been in some bad scrapes,” he said with a half-smile. “But this was different. These weren’t random dick heads at a bar. They had done that kind of thing before.”
I squeezed his hand. “Are you safe?”
Nikko’s laugh was dry. “I’m sure I am here. They’re not going to hop a plane to come looking for me.”
“What about the shop?” I asked.
“I think Marcus made a smart move firing me,” he said with a shrug. “I’m dangerous to be around. ”
“Do you think those guys would go after Jessie or the others?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but when you’re dealing with men like this, I put nothing past them.”
“How do you end it?” I asked. “Can you go to the police?”
“No,” Nikko said flatly. “These aren’t the kind of guys you go to the police about. Snitches get stitches isn’t just a fun little rhyme. Reporting them would just make things worse.”
I studied his face and saw the strain. “So, what’s your plan?”
He took another sip of wine, his fingers absently tracing patterns on my leg. “Wait it out. Eventually they’ll get my father to cough up the money.”
“And then what?” I pressed.
Nikko’s smile was sharp, almost predatory. “Then if they still won’t leave me alone, I’ll figure out how to make sure they never come looking for me again.”
The implication hung in the air between us. I didn’t press further. Some battles, I was learning, weren’t meant to be fought in courtrooms or with police reports. Some required a different kind of resolution.
“Will you look for another job at another shop?”
“No. I don’t know. I had a lot of freedom at Marcus’s place. I don’t want to work for a corporate place, but I don’t want to work at a grungy place either. For now, my tattoo gun is hung up.”
I frowned. “Nikko, you’re too talented to not keep tattooing. It would be a crime against humanity or, at the very least, against skin.”
He chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I mean it,” I said, sitting up a little straighter. “Have you ever thought about starting your own shop?”
He shrugged, his gaze fixed on his wine glass. “Not really. I always figured I’d work for Marcus forever. I don’t know the first thing about running a business. I barely graduated college. I’m starting to think I’m not cut out to work for anyone.”
I bit my lip, thinking. “Every door that closes makes room for another to open. ”
He raised an eyebrow at me, smirking. “Who are you, and what have you done with the cynical Hannah I know?”
I laughed. “Shut up. I’m serious.”
He swirled his wine. “You know that advice goes both ways. Ever thought about telling Clarke to shove it and starting your own thing?”
I blinked. “What? No. I need my firm. It’s got the prestige, the reputation. Clients trust it. Without that, I’d be… I don’t know, just some random freelancer.”
He shook his head, leaning in a little closer. “You’re not just anything, Hannah. You’re a fighter. You’ve proven that. If you showed people that side of you, they’d follow you. You’ve got something Clarke doesn’t.”
“What’s that?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Heart,” he said simply. “And your story. Where you came from, what you’ve overcome—that’s your power. That’s what people connect with, not the corporate crap.”
I felt my cheeks heat up. No one had ever looked at me like Nikko did—like he saw me, really saw me.
“Stop,” I said, laughing softly.
“Stop what?” he asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.
“Making me blush,” I admitted, covering my face with my hands.
“Never,” he said, pulling my hands away gently.
I stared into his eyes, my heart pounding. “I missed you,” I whispered.
“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice barely audible.
Before I could overthink it, he leaned in, and our lips met in a kiss that sent molten gold through my nerve endings. It was sweet, tender, and everything I’d been craving since the moment we’d said goodbye in Miami.
But then I pulled back, my heart racing for a different reason.
“Nikko,” I said softly. “We need to talk.”
His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“I just… I can’t keep getting closer to you if we don’t know where this is going,” I said, my voice wavering. “If you’re going back to Mi ami in a few weeks and I’m staying here, how is this supposed to work?”
He nodded slowly, his expression serious. “I get it. You don’t want to set yourself up for heartbreak.”
“It’s not just about me,” I said. “It’s about us. One of us would have to compromise eventually. Long distance can’t work forever.”
He reached out, taking my hand. “We’ll figure it out, Hannah. Let’s just take it one step at a time, okay?”
Maybe we could make this work. Maybe we’d find a way to meet in the middle.
“Okay,” I said.
“But since I’m here, I’m thinking we should make the most of our time together.”
“Oh yeah?” I grinned. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking we finish the bottle of wine and get naked.”
“In that order?” I giggled.
“No. Not necessarily.”