Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
Sage
Nic and I spend another hour in the cellar before Anton finally comes for us.
When I get back to my room, I can smell enough bleach to know it's been cleaned within an inch of its life.
There are people all over the property patching up windows and repairing the damage, but the window in my room is crack free.
It's only the fact that the glass is an inch or two thicker that tips me off that it's new.
"You good?" Uncle Anton asks, standing at my door with Nic behind him.
I spin to face them. I was lost in my thoughts, thinking about how easily that window could or would be shattered.
"I'll be okay," I lie. I had a hard enough time sleeping before all this. I'm not getting a lick of sleep tonight.
"You'll be safe tonight," Anton says.
I smile and nod, sure that my feigned smile is more a grimace. I look behind Anton to Nic, who won't look me in the eye. Given what he said... yeah, I'm not surprised. I wrap my arms tightly around myself.
Anton moves to leave but I stop him with my words. "Is... um," I stutter. I cannot believe I'm about to ask this, but something inside me demands that I do. "Is, uh, Alexei okay?"
Nic and Anton both stiffen, shoulders straightening as their spines go rigid.
"Since when do you care about Alexei Rushkoff?" Anton narrows his eyes on me as he licks his lips.
"I... don't. He just - he saved me," I say. From their cautious expressions I know I'm getting nothing so I just roll my eyes. "Never mind. It's not important."
"Yell if you need anything," Anton says, happy to leave the conversation there.
Nic doesn't look up from the floor but his jaw clenches as Anton closes my bedroom door, the soft click enough to make me jump. Once again left alone with my thoughts, I turn back to the glass and sigh.
After a long, weary shower, I turn off the lights, undressing quickly and crawling into bed. I still refuse to shut the curtains, allowing the light from the moon to brighten the inside of my room as if that will somehow help.
I settle down into the blankets, tugging the cover up over my shoulders and watching the night sky out the window. Exhaustion tugs at me, trying to pull me under into sleep but I resist. I can't convince my mind it's safe enough to sleep.
After a while, I close my eyes. I wake feeling like only seconds have passed but knowing by the wet puddle under my face that I've been lulled into another nightmare.
I sit up, wiping the tears from my cheeks and slightly gasping as I try to get my breathing under control.
There's a sharp bang at my door. I jump, the noise doing nothing to slow my breath. My hand rests over my heaving chest, drawing sharp gasps. The banging persists, and I realize I'm going to have to answer it.
"I'm coming," I grumble, kicking out of the warm bed. I hurry to the door, wiping at my eyes as I go.
Ready to scowl at whoever is on the other side, interrupting an already fitful night, I swing the door open.
Alexei leans over the threshold, his arm braced on the frame.
"Alexei?" I exhale in a gust of relief.
His eyes snap up to mine as I say his name. They're narrowed, but soft enough for me to realize the relief must show on my face. He falters for only a moment before he puts his own mask back on and returns to teasing me.
"The Prince boy managed to keep you alive. Guess he's not totally useless," Alexei smirks.
"What time is it?"
"Almost five," he says, grunting. He flexes his tattooed fingers and then steps back from the doorway. His jaw clenches before he speaks, like his brain is fighting the urge for the words to come out. "Are you alright?"
"I - did I make a noise?" I brush away the stray hairs that have become stuck to my wet cheeks.
"No."
I look him up and down, from where he's wearing freshly shined black shoes, crisp black pants and a shirt that hugs him tightly. He's freshly showered too, hair slicked back and not a strand out of place.
"Are you gonna let me in or are we both just going to stand here looking stupid?"
I sneer, but for some reason, I do open the door. He walks in and makes the place his own, strutting in like he's been in here a hundred times before. All I can do is stand and watch him in confusion.
"They patched this up quick, didn't they?" Alexei says, tapping on the glass. "It's thick."
"Like your head," I whisper, meaning the words to come out as an insult but my fear still hangs fresh in my mind and I can't muster the ability to make it sound as mean as I'd like.
Alexei looks back over to me but doesn't respond. He watches as I curl my arms around my body again before he averts his eyes.
"You've changed clothes."
"Yeah," Alexei says, heaping himself into the chair by my window and settling in. "I painted your theater red for you, princess. Got a little paint on my clothes."
A soft laugh escapes me as I walk back to the bed and climb under the covers. Settling into the warmth, I rest my head on my hand as I lay on my side to watch him. He looks comfortable from where he sits. His head is leaned back in the chair and his feet are crossed at the ankles.
I don't understand my reaction or his. But we both lay there, on opposite sides of the room, watching each other as silence descends again. Like we've been here thousands of times before. Like the way we watch each other in the dark is completely natural.
Alexei takes a deep breath. His fingers steeple under his chin, pointed tattooed fingers on his lips in contemplation. He looks as tormented and bewildered as I feel. This connection that draws us together seems to be one that neither of us wants to give in to but can't resist all the same.
I shuffle under the covers, getting warm. "Shouldn't you be protecting your girlfriend? Pretty traumatic night."
"If you haven't noticed, Isla can take care of herself." He doesn't look at me as he delivers an easy smile with the words.
I shake my head at my own stupidity. Of course, she can. She was rushing off like a warrior princess earlier in the night. Of course, she doesn't need help. She probably sleeps like a baby and definitely doesn't cry herself awake.
It's only princesses like me that dig themselves graves they can't climb out of. Another rush of self-loathing cascades through me, amplified by tonight's events.
"You must really hate it here," I say. "You know, to have called in your girlfriend as backup."
"Here does suck," he says. I smile into my pillow, turning it over because the side I'm on is still soaking with tears. I swear there's no way he could know that, but his eyes track the movement like he does.
"What were you looking for in my room?" he asks.
"Nothing."
From the look on his face, the slight raise on his brow, he knows I'm lying.
"You were doing something," he says, thumbing at his lip. "You really think I'd bring secret evidence into my enemy's house? How dumb do I look?"
"Very dumb," I smile.
He bites his lip, which I suspect is to cover the urge to smile.
I sigh, and my eyelids try to flutter closed of their own accord. I snap them back open. I won't let myself go to sleep.
"You tired princess?"
"I don't want to sleep. I'm..." I'm afraid. But I'm not going to tell him that, am I? Even if I am far too drained to remember he's the enemy.
In the end, I don't even need to say that I'm too afraid to sleep.
Somehow he knows anyway. He settles deeper in the chair, making himself very at home and comfortable.
From somewhere out of nowhere, he pulls out a book and reads by the light of the moon.
His eyes scan over the pages, and without looking at me he says, "Go to sleep, princess.
" I'm on the precipice of sleep when I swear I hear, "I've got you. "
Morning sun heats my face, and I instinctively cup my cheek, feeling for the telltale tackiness of dried tears on my cheek. When I feel nothing but smooth skin, I smile.
My eyes open slowly, but when I take in the room fully and realize I'm not alone, I falter. I sit up in bed, staring wide-eyed at the form sleeping peacefully on the bed right next to me.
The person I was expecting to be there isn't. But someone else is...
Nicholas is sprawled out on top of the sheets. Still wearing last night's clothes like he fumbled into bed next to me when his body couldn't take it anymore.
I chance a glance at the chair by the window, finding it empty. My heart does an inexplicable twist as I wonder if I dreamed the whole thing. But then I notice there's an open book sitting on my windowsill and I know that what happened was real.
I watch Nicholas where he sleeps, his chest barely rising and falling with his breaths. What the fuck is he doing here? After what he said, I cannot imagine why he is here in my bed. He said himself that we couldn't be anything. That we had nothing.
Less than twelve hours ago he was inside me, telling me I mean nothing to him. Now he's back in my bed. I scratch at my brow. Which one of us is it that's pathetic? Him for falling back into my bed so quickly after being a fucking coward? Or me?
Because I'm weak too. Because he smells so. God damn. Good.
Isn't that pathetic? All it takes is a smell. One whiff of my Nic and I don't care what he's said. I'm dying to convince him that what we have is something.
I furrow my brow when a smirk forms on his lips, with his eyes still closed.
"You're watching me."
I widen my eyes. "You're not asleep?"
"I was." Nicholas opens his eyes then and smiles. "Until someone interrupted me."
I gasp. "You didn't even have your eyes open!"
He laughs then, full and bright, the first laugh of his that I've ever heard sound so genuine, since he spends most of the time acting like a big grump. "I'm trained to be alert at all times."
"I'm not buying that." I fold my arms over my shirt. I'm not wearing a bra and sitting upright like this puts my nipples on display... and yeah okay, I want to pronounce them by puffing up my chest. "Maybe you were watching me."