Chapter 35 ANI
A soft nudge pulls me out of sleep. Not the warm drag of morning or the lazy tug of sunlight, but something more urgent. My eyes blink open, still heavy with sleep, and it takes me a moment to focus. When I do, my heart stutters.
Nik is kneeling on the floor beside my side of the bed. He’s fully dressed—jeans, boots, and a shirt stretched tight across his chest—and the solemnity on his face is enough to cause my heart to lodge in my throat.
I sit up instantly, clutching the sheets to my chest, as my nostrils flood with the burnt aroma of fire. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
His eyes lock onto mine, unflinching, but I see the flicker of worry hiding behind them. He swallows once, like he is bracing for what he needs to say. When he speaks, his voice is low and soft. “There was a fire at The Diva Lounge.”
For a moment, I don’t understand. His words don’t make sense strung together like that. He had to leave in the middle of the night for a fire? My still-groggy mind doesn’t put the pieces together right away, but when it does, his words crash into me, knocking the breath right out of my body.
That’s Alek’s club.
“Alek?” My voice is barely a whisper, but it sounds like a scream in my head. “Where is he? Is he—?”
Nik’s jaw tightens, the faint muscle flexing as though he is biting back words. He shifts closer, and his hand comes to rest over mine on the blanket, giving it a reaffirming squeeze. “We don’t know.”
Tears sting hot and sudden, blurring my vision before I can stop them, as if a dam just broke.
The sound that escapes me is ugly and raw.
Without hesitation, Nik pushes off the floor.
He climbs into the bed fully clothed—boots and all—and tugs me against him.
His arms lock around me while I crumble in his hold.
“There were casualties,” he admits into my hair, his tone rough with pain. “But we don’t know it was him. He could be fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Nik,” I choke, my fists gripping the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing tethering me to the world.
He pulls back just enough to frame my face in his hands, his soft blue eyes boring into mine. “I would never.” His voice is raw and unfiltered. “As much as I give him shit, Ani, he’s a smart fucking kid. Smarter than people realize. He knows how to get out of trouble.”
I nod, but it’s jerky and unconvincing, even to myself.
The fear inside me is too loud, gnawing away at me from the inside.
Nik rocks me gently, as if having me pressed close to him will keep me from unraveling.
But he doesn’t understand; he could hold me forever, and I still wouldn’t be able to breathe until I know about Alek.
I shift against him restlessly as I untangle myself from his arms. He doesn’t let go easily, but I push until I’m sitting upright again, wiping at my cheeks with trembling hands.
“Ani.” His voice is low, warning, already reading my thoughts. “We’re staying here. We can’t do anything. ”
“I can’t.” My throat feels shredded and raw from crying. “Not until I know.”
“You need to rest.”
“No… I need my brother.”
I grab my phone off the nightstand with shaking fingers and click Alek’s name, putting it to speaker.
One ring. Two. Three. The sound is endless and mocking, each hollow tone carving my worry even deeper.
The voicemail picks up, and his message is light and careless. “Hey, it’s Alek. You know what to do.”
The beep sounds.
“Alek,” I breathe, my voice breaking. “Call me back. Please. Just… please.” My thumb trembles as I end the call, pressing the phone to my chest, its weight grounding me.
Nik watches me for a moment, letting me come to terms with the gravity of the situation before pulling me back against him.
This time, I don’t resist and nuzzle into him.
Just as I’m getting comfortable, muffled but sharp voices carry into the apartment from the hallway.
Instantly, I stiffen in Nik’s arms, my head jerking toward the door.
Jagger’s and Damon’s voices—both sharp and commanding—overlap each other as they shout loudly.
“Nik?” I whisper, my pulse spiking.
Without answering, he releases his hold on me and slides from the bed in one fluid motion. His hand is on the gun tucked into his waistband almost as fast as his feet hit the floor. Nik’s face hardens, that cold and calculating mask replacing his softness as he moves.
I scramble after him, my bare feet slapping against the floor. “Stay,” he barks, shooting me a look over his shoulder. I don’t listen, following several feet behind him.
Nik yanks open the door, and my world crashes to a halt.
“Alek!” The word tears out of me before I can think.
He is barely standing on his own. His face is pale, and he is stained with blood.
Alek is clutching his side with one arm and fisting Damon’s shirt with the other to keep from swaying.
The moment his gaze locks with mine, I feel as absolutely terrified as he looks.
Nik’s eyes flick toward me, but before he can scold me for not listening, Alek pushes away from Damon and Jagger. He makes it a few steps before collapsing and falling straight into Nik’s arms.