Chapter 2
TWO
The elevator doors slide shut, cutting off the sight of Nicholas, but the image of the hurt in his eyes is burned into my mind, refusing to fade.
My body is trembling, adrenaline is surging through me, the elevator walls are too close—everything is too close.
I can’t…
I need…
I grab my phone from my purse, my thumb barely managing to hit Sylus’s name. The ringing fills my ears, blending with the frantic pounding of my heart, my breath painfully hitching as I wait.
Please.
Finally, his voice crackles through the line. “Baby, I couldn’t—”
“Sylus.” His name breaks from my lips. “He caught me. I got caught.”
The elevator seems to crawl, and I feel like I’m suffocating in the small space. There’s a muffled sound through the phone, footsteps, something crashing, and then I hear Sylus’s frantic voice. “Koen!”
“Sylus,” I urge again, but there is no answer.
What the fuck do I do?
“Sparkle…” he pants out, ragged and panicked, and it sounds like he’s running. “Hold tight. I’m coming.”
The call ends, and I’m left staring at the screen, my stricken reflection looking back at me. The elevator finally comes to a stop, and the doors open into the lobby filled with bright lights and tourists, even though it’s late.
But there’s not a sign of the security that I half expected would be waiting for me.
I step out, my knees feeling like they could give way at any second, but I force myself to keep moving, slipping through the crowd while I can barely think.
No one stops me—no security, no police. So, I keep walking, trying to keep my head down and my breathing even.
Outside, the bright lights of the Strip are a kaleidoscope of color that disorients me.
I hesitate, not sure which direction to take before deciding on impulse, pushing through the tourists.
Ezra said to get away and hide.
I need to keep moving.
The city blurs around me, strangers’ faces merging into a chaotic, overwhelming rush. I quicken my pace as the instinct to run builds in my chest, even though I have no idea where I’d run to. I check my phone. Nothing. No messages from anyone.
Have they abandoned me?
It would be fitting after I put them all in danger with my incompetence.
Minutes stretch into what feels like hours until a low rumble cuts through the noise of the street. I lift my head and catch sight of a familiar black motorcycle speeding down the road, tires screeching as it comes to a sudden, reckless halt on the street next to me.
Sylus.
He’s bare-chested, wearing only sweatpants, not even shoes, and his dark hair is a wild mess. “Come on, Sparkle!”
I break into a run, my legs pumping as I cross the pavement and reach him.
Sylus leans over, his arm outstretched, and I grab hold, swinging myself onto the back of the bike before wrapping my arms around his waist. I squeeze my purse between us while burying my face against his bare back as he revs the engine and speeds off.
The wind whips at my face and hair, the city blurring around us as Sylus takes us away from the chaos.
My tears spill freely now, the adrenaline and fear unraveling into exhaustion and relief.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and the feeling of Sylus’s warm skin beneath my hands is the only thing grounding me as the world rushes past us.
Eventually, he pulls into a narrow alley, bringing the bike to a skidding halt, the engine cutting off with a shudder.
He puts the kickstand down, swings his leg over, and turns to me, his eyes wide with panic as he pulls me off the bike and cups my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears staining my cheeks.
“What happened? Are you okay?” He crouches down a little to meet my gaze, his face inches from mine. “Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head, my voice breaking as I whisper my answer to both questions, “No.”
Sylus’s expression softens as he exhales deeply. “What the fuck happened?”
“I fucked up.” I swallow, the tears starting again as I look down at my feet. “I fucked everything up for you guys.”
“It’s fine, okay?” Sylus grabs my chin and makes me meet his gaze again. “I’ll figure something out. It’s fine, baby. Fuck this. As long as you’re okay, we’re okay.”
“Are you even listening?” I sniffle, and it sounds so pathetic it almost makes me sick. “He caught me. I fucked up. I put you all in danger. I’m the reason you—”
Sylus cuts me off by pressing his lips to mine, letting his hand slip from my chin to my throat and pulling me against him.
His kiss is desperate, fierce, not just to silence me but to prove something.
To tell me that none of this matters, that he doesn’t care about anything else as long as I’m here, safe with him.
I don’t deserve that.
But God, do I want it.
My hands are on his chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palms. His breath is ragged, his body just as wrecked as mine. And maybe that’s what undoes me the most. This isn’t just me unraveling. He’s right there with me.
My tears mix into the kiss, salty and warm, but he doesn’t pull away. He just tightens his grip, fingers digging into my waist and the edge of his thumb grazing my throat. Like he’s afraid I might disappear.
And maybe I am too.
Not of running. I’m done running.
But of what comes next. Of what I’ve already done. Of what I can’t take back.
Right now, none of it matters.
Right now, there’s only Sylus. His warmth, his touch, the way he’s holding me like I’m the most important thing in the world.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
When everything came crashing down, when the ground fell out from under me, I wanted him.
Not a plan. Not a way out. Just him.
And without hesitation, he dropped everything to come for me.
That realization hits like a punch to the ribs.
Because people don’t do that. Not for me.
With Sylus, I didn’t have to beg, I didn’t have to ask.
He just knew.
He just came.
And now he’s here, holding me like I’m not too much. Like I’ll never be too much.
A sharp breath rattles through me, my throat burning.
What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
When we finally pull apart—because oxygen is a necessity—his eyes are liquid silver, shimmering with emotions I can’t name.
Or maybe I can.
Because I feel them too.
Something deep, terrifying. But at the same time, it’s something that makes me want to fall.
His hand falls from my throat to my hip, and I glance down, noticing his bare feet on the dirty pavement and the little smiley face tattoo grinning up at me. A huff of laughter escapes me.
“What would you have done if they’d had me? I know you can pummel a guy, but at least you could’ve put on a shirt to do it.”
“A shirt would’ve slowed me down,” he states like all of this is no big deal and gives me his signature grin. “Besides, gotta give you something nice to look at while I save the day.”
“I mean it. There could’ve been guns. What would you have done?”
I didn’t even tell him what he was up against. He went in blind.
The thought makes my stomach twist, the sharp stab of guilt settling deep.
I could’ve lost him.
But Sylus doesn’t miss a beat. “Shield you.”
“With what?”
“My body.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t just admit he’d put himself between a bullet and me.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” His gaze softens as it holds mine, his thumb on my hip, stroking circles on the sliver of skin between my shirt and the waistband of my jeans.
I barely feel it. I can’t feel anything past the panic rising in my throat.
“I would die for you, Sparkle. Literally.”
The world tilts.
Something inside me fractures. Not just from his words but from how easily he says them. Like it’s not even a question, and he’s already made his peace with it.
My hands clench on his chest, gripping him harder because suddenly I can’t fucking breathe. “I don’t want anybody to ever fucking die for me again.”
It’s not a request.
It’s a fucking plea.
My vision blurs, my body trembles, and my lungs tighten like I’m suffocating from something in the past—on memories of screeching tires, the smell of blood, and losing what I couldn’t survive losing.
“Do you hear me?” My voice cracks, but I don’t care.
I need him to understand.
Sylus blinks before his eyes widen, and I watch as the understanding clicks into place. “Okay. I won’t die for you.” Slowly, he lifts a hand, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “Promise. Whatever you need, baby.”
This fierce, reckless devotion. It’s too much. Too heavy. Too overwhelming. It makes me want to recoil before I lose him too.
Because love never stays.
Because love once cost me everything.
But his words wrap around me as much as his presence does.
And I decide.
For the first time, I fucking decide.
To drop my walls.
To trust him.
I exhale and let myself lean into him. And instead of falling, I feel what it’s like to be caught.
Because he’s got me.
Every fractured, vulnerable part of me.
He’s my person.
I let out a breath. “Survive for me, how about that?”
“Got it.” A small smile tugs at his lips, and he presses a kiss to my temple. “We’ll survive for each other.” He pulls back to meet my eyes, then lifts his pinky finger between us.
I’m done with pushing him away. I want this. I want him.
Slowly, I lift my hand, hooking my pinky around his.
“Okay,” I whisper, sealing the promise between us.
“Okay?” he echoes. There’s a hint of surprise and so much hope in his eyes. He knows I’m saying yes to more than just surviving.
“Okay.”
We’re doing this.
Together.