4. Nyx
Chapter 4
Nyx
I let Viv lead us deeper into the Zen Garden, my lips tightening more and more as she coos at the little tables dotted beneath the cherry trees planted throughout the large garden. She's acting like she's never seen an outdoor restaurant before. Then again, maybe she doesn't get out much.
“Here, Nicky!” Viv turns and waves at me like we're standing seven miles away, not a few feet. "This one's perfect."
I must have misheard her. There's no way she just called me 'Nick', the name I'd used when I was still undercover as a man after attempting to unalive my father-in-law.
My sneakers crunch too loudly over the gravel as I sidle closer to her. “What did you call me?” I whisper conspiratorially.
“Oh, come now.” She swats me away like a fruit fly. "I have nicknames for everyone. Nyx is a bit…manly. Nicky is cuter. You don’t mind, do you?”
Am I going to have a fucking heart attack every time this woman calls me Nicky because it sounds like 'Nick?. Probably. Can I stop her? Not without making a fuss. And the last thing I want to do is make a fuss.
I only have to spend another few minutes with her. I’m sure I’ll survive.
As if hearing my unspoken thoughts, Matty materializes through the hedgerow opening a moment later, closely trailed by his better-half, Sammy.
Great. Just what I need. Even more eyes on me.
“So, about that sake,” I say, giving Viv a bright smile.
Her smile is warm, her eyes twinkling with hedonistic delight. She might actually be the sweetest person in the cartel. Maybe in any cartel, ever. I just wish she didn't smell like an overripe melon.
Viv pats her tummy. “And about that sushi.”
The restaurant is busy, probably because of the amazing sushi. Seriously, did I tap into the hive mind? I never knew this place existed. I’d thank my lucky stars, but based on prior experience, I must have been born in the house of the rising number thirteen or some shit.
I drink the sake.
Matty and Sammy stare over at me for so long without blinking, their eyeballs should have shriveled like raisins.
I eat the sushi.
I was hoping they'd grow bored with their surveillance gig but I guess when you hire guys like them, you set them down in front of a freshly painted wall, and only hire them if they're still awake after a few hours of watching it dry.
Five minutes becomes ten. Then fifteen.
Viv's been doing all the heavy lifting, conversation wise. I've barely been paying attention, rather focusing on setting Matty's hair on fire using telepathy.
It hasn't been going well.
"Ooh, I'm going to send Andy a pic of that fountain," Viv says. "She'll love that."
I force my attention back to Bryan's mistress, if only so my brain can catch a break. Psychic arson is hard work. There's a delighted crinkle at the corner of her eyes when she snaps a photo with her phone.
My heart fucking pangs for her.
"Has she read your messages yet?"
Viv's been sending dozens of pictures to her daughter since we set foot in this place. It was hard to miss her enthusiastic camera work, even while I was plotting escape. The fact that this garden is completely surrounded by a thick, tall hedge makes disappearing a little trickier. The only other exit is through the restaurant's main building, where I assume the kitchen, restrooms, and indoor seating are.
"She's probably busy. Maybe she had to start working straight away." Sighing, Viv takes a tiny sip from her tiny sake cup, and then taps her red nails against the thin porcelain.
"She'll fall in love one day," Viv says quietly, giving me a sad glance. "Then she'll understand why I did what I did. Love is a terrible beast. You can't just stop loving someone one day—" she snaps her fingers "—just like that."
Old me, pre- cartel wife me, would have argued. But the day I met Savage, he sunk his teeth into my heart, and to this day has refused to let go. Like a dog with lockjaw.
"Yeah," I say, draining my cup. I've never really liked sake, but it does the job. My shoulders aren't drawn up to my ears anymore with tension. I have half a mind to just sit here, finish lunch, and go back to the villa for a nap.
But that's a ridiculous thought, because I need to speak to Donny. He's the only link between me and whoever took my sisters. Well, him and the three men who actually abducted Phoebe and Athena. But Savage says those guys disappeared like puffs of smoke.
Or, maybe, he hasn't even bothered looking for them yet. S 'n M didn't even know my sisters had been kidnapped. Kinda makes me wonder just how serious Savage was when he swore to find them.
"—haven't felt this way about anyone before," Viv is saying.
"Bryan?"
She nods, poking at a piece of sushi with her chopsticks. "I'm so worried about him. He's always been so vital, so full of life."
"He did just get shot."
"I know, Nicky, but it's different this time. It's like he's been crippled." She lays that same hand over her heart, giving me a wan smile. "I know we're both getting on in years, but this isn't like my Bryan." She pats her chest softly, eyes unfocused. "It's like he's given up."
"I told Andy it's not right. She doesn't care. I can't blame her—she's never had nothing but trouble with men. But I'm looking after him. I'll make sure he pulls through." She leans in so fast that I almost punch her in the nose in sheer instinctual self defense.
"Did you know they were giving him dairy?" She scoffs, shaking her head so hard that her earrings clatter.
"Dairy?" I whisper, confused as fuck.
"No one told them he's lactose intolerant. Thank God I noticed. No, no. It's only almond milk and vegan cheese for my Bryan. And the best part is, he can't tell me how yuck it tastes." Viv says happily, and then decides to eat the piece of sushi she'd been toying with, groaning as soon as it vanishes down her throat.
I take it back. She's the sweetest, craziest person in the cartel.
Movement in the corner of my eye makes me turn to where my surveillance team is camped out. Matty is showing Sammy his cellphone, a big fat frown on his big fat face. Sam flicks his fingers, as if telling him to answer the damn thing already.
Such a cute couple. I keep an eye on them as Viv starts chatting about a boutique she wants to take me to when all the 'drama' has blown over. Someplace in Manhattan that I've just got to see with my own eyes. I listen with half an ear as Matty has a short, intense phone call.
It must be Savage on the other end of the line. Nothing else can explain the way their eyes throw daggers at me once the call is over.
Seriously? Is it a crime to have lunch with a friend?
Thankfully, Matty starts arguing with Sam, breaking their death stare in my direction.
“Fucking idiots,” I mutter sourly, more to myself than to Viv,
Viv reaches over and pats my hand. “They’re just keeping us safe, doll.”
Doll isn’t much better than Nicky, but I’ll take it. I give her a forced smile. “I have to go powder my nose. They’ll probably want to come into the stall with me.”
Viv’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree someone just set on fire. “Ooh, I’ll have some of that.”
It says a lot about my current state of mind that I stare at her for a few seconds before deciphering her sudden interest in my bowel movements. “Oh, no, this doesn't involve hard drugs."
She blinks at me, her smile fading a little, but still exuding eagerness.
"I have to go drop the kids off at the pool, if you know what I mean.” I almost tap the side of my nose, but that might just confuse the situation.
She deflates. “Oh.” Then grimaces. “Oh.”
I stand, forcing myself not to look at Savage’s goons. I twirl my finger above our the empty platter and our tiny, just as empty, sake cups. “How about you order us another round?”
Viv nods, twisting in her seat to find our waiter.
Matty and Sammy stare at me as I head for the restaurant building, but I throw them the finger. “Bathroom break, boys.”
Sam starts forward, but Matty grabs his arm, stopping him. I watch them from the corner of my eye as they have a brief, heated argument with their eyes, before Sammy pointedly stares ahead at nothing, mouth set in a sulky line.
Huh. For once, things are going my way.
Or maybe this is the calm before the storm. Well, the category nine hurricane, in my case. That thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I ignore it as I storm into the woman’s bathroom and immediately throw back the door on the first stall.
Damn it.
The second stall is no winner either.
The third stall is closed, and I’m grinding my teeth as I wait for the woman to finish up whatever the hell she’s doing in there. After five seconds of fuming, I rap on the door.
“Hey, hurry up in there!”
“Wh-what?”
“Hurry the fuck up. There’s an emergency out here.” I glance at the two open stalls and quickly—but quietly—pull them closed.
“I’m busy!”
I tap my foot. I chew my lip. I keep glancing at the door, expecting one of the goons to come barging in demanding to know why I'm not back at the table yet. I don't know how long I wait. It feels like hours, but couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes.
I'm waiting for so long, I even start checking myself out in the full-length mirror against one wall. I look like a 90s emo punk rock chick in this outfit, with my black underwear shining through the fabric, the outline of my sports bra much thicker than the feminine straps on my shoulders. The grimy sneakers. I could have done something with my dirty-blond hair. I used to braid it a lot because of how quickly it became messy and tangled. It hangs around my face in wavy chunks.
Savage gave me a double-take when he saw me in this dress. Or maybe that's because I was so pissed at having been stuffed into it against my will.
I twist the ring on my finger.
My mind goes back to the pink ring box I saw in Savage's walk-in closet. It was empty when I opened it, but that doesn't mean there wasn't a ring in there before.
Am I the first person marrying this monster?
My hand curls into a fist, until the ring bites into my flesh. Jaw bunching, I rush over to the stall door and pound against it.
"Hey! You done yet?"
Whoever's inside doesn't even bother replying.
Fuck this.
I didn’t want to ruin this woman’s day, but time's running out.
I kick the door in, wincing as it rebounds from the wall. The woman stiffens, and we stare at each other as she sits motionless on the toilet.
The toilet seat.
She yanks out her earpods, and her cellphone starts chimes merrily in her hand.
"You're playing Candy Crush?" I scoff.
She shrugs, looking guilty. "Bad date. I'm hoping he'll leave if I take long enough."
"Well mine's definitely not going anywhere. Scootch over, I need to use your window."
She hops up and flattens herself against the wall to avoid me. I clamber onto the toilet's cistern, shove open the small window, and hoist myself up.
"Wait!"
I glance back down at the woman in sheer curiosity. She digs in her purse and pulls out a few bills. "Some money for a cab."
Guess she thought I had to leave my purse at the table.
I lean back in, pursing my lips as a wave of tender solidarity sweeps through me. "Thanks, hon."
A moment later I'm dropping to the floor outside, and shoving the money inside Savage's jacket pocket as I slip it on. His smell puffs up, immobilizing me as I let it envelop me.
Guess I'm not the only one who's had bad luck with men. But Savage's men still haven't come looking for me, so maybe that's all changing.
But I should have known better. Lady Luck's always been a bitch to me behind my back.
A twig cracks behind me, but before I can even move into a defensive position, someone's ramming into me and pinning me face-first to the plastered wall behind the restaurant.
I would have yelled, but as soon as I open my mouth, there's a gun pressed to my back, pointed right at my heart.
"Going somewhere?" comes a low snarl—part man, part feral, pissed-off beast.