Chapter 22 Nyx #2
The fury rising in me could spark flames if I moved my limbs too fast. “Shut the fuck up Noc, you're technically dead - so your rank no longer exists.” I hold his glare, daring him to push me further.
His teeth rake over his bottom lip, failing miserably at suppressing his smirk.
Asshole. But then it falls as quickly as it appeared.
“You're not coming with me, Brodie.” I ignore him, pushing on with laying out the plan and focusing on the rest of the guys. “I'll head in with Noc. Adam, you are our eyes on the ground and in the sky. Phantom, Blitz, you’re our stomping power. Be armed and ready if shit goes south.” I turn to face Noc, who’s raising his brow in challenge to me.
My voice is firm when I speak. “Noc, make the call. Now.''
I don’t think he was listening to a damn thing I said, his head sideways as he stares at me through narrowed eyes. And I give him that look. He exhales dramatically, pushing off the table. He pulls out his phone from his pocket, finger hovering as he eyes the room. “'Not a fucking sound.”
I scoff. As if he's dealing with a bunch of amateurs. Without another word, he prowls to the window, phone pressed to his ear, free hand shoved deep into his pocket. This man will be the death of me, because my annoyance for him is already fizzling out as I watch him go to work.
The fluent tongue is sharp, his Russian words contrasting the tone as it’s wrapped in velvet.
I never did learn another language. I know some.
Well, words like bombs. Kill. Hostage. He shifts back to us when he ends the call.
“He’ll meet us at the club tomorrow afternoon.
” I don’t miss the familiar storm that begins to swirl in his eyes, it’s dark and unsettled.
He’s not happy I'll be joining him. Tough shit.
I clasp my hands. “Good, that gives us time to recharge and prepare.” Phantom, Adam and Blitz rise, heading downstairs.
I move to follow them, until Noc's voice stops me in my tracks.
“I need to talk to you.” The words feel like a sonic boom through the room, my spine stiffens.
I turn and glance at him, his phone is placed in the middle of the table, arms splayed across the surface and gripping the edges, leaving his shoulders flexed with his head hanging low between them.
His stance is almost celestial, resembling an archangel against the light spilling through the window.
His dark figure stands stark against the fading glow outside, the last remnants of daylight casting him in shadow.
The only problem with that is, Nocturne doesn't answer to a God, he answers to Satan.
“What's wrong?” I ask. He’s worrying me.
I couldn’t catch a single thing during his call.
No keywords flagged, no rise in his voice.
He gave away nothing. And yet, something now feels off.
“Sit down, Brodie.” Shit. What the hell is going on?
“Noc, you’re making me feel uncomfortable.
Spit it out.” But I do as he asks, moving to sit at his left.
He still hasn’t moved. His eyes drill into his phone, and he’s completely unreadable, like whatever’s on that screen holds the weight of something I’m not ready for.
His voice is deep, “Earlier, you know when I told you that Graves was planning to have Volokov kidnap you, and have you dismissed from the service?”
I swallow hard, the knowledge of that is likely to stay with me forever, “I do.”
When his eyes finally meet mine, they look completely black. “I wasn't completely honest with you.” My brows knit together at his confession, and I open my mouth, ready to snap back, to tear into the whole trust issue. But his words come out as a rush, not missing a single beat.
“Once you were classed as a civilian again, Graves was going to ship you back to Volokov to be trafficked.
Because of who you were, you'd be worth so much money it'd be eyewatering.
The amount of people who would love to get their hands on a US General's daughter.
Your purpose would be completely served then, and the blood wouldn't be on Graves's hands when he tied up his loose ends. Graves would get his share of the sale. When Volokov cut you that day, that was a threat to me. That if I didn’t comply, everything he told me that would happen, would.”
I look down at my scar. I don’t think I’m breathing.
Or hearing correctly. Traffic me? I knew Volokov was in that line of work, anything sick and depraved to fuel his empire with the worst humanity has to offer.
But Graves willingly handing me over? Selling me for his own share?
I think I’m going to be sick. The chair scrapes against the floor as I push back.
My legs wobble, nearly buckling, and for a second, I feel myself tipping.
But Noc is there to catch me, trying to anchor me and guide me back down.
“Easy, Brodie.” My breathing spikes. The room feels too small, too tight, closing in at the edges.
Am I going to have a panic attack? Noc grips my face, his hands feel warm and his grip firm.
He speaks to me, but his words drown beneath the roaring in my ears.
I only see his lips moving, and I stare at them.
Speaking louder, his muffled voice thumps through the static as he kneels in front of me, hands running up and down my arms, trying to root me, keeping a part of me here.
My whole body trembles. Sweat slicks my palms. I shouldn’t be like this.
I’m trained. Tough. I repeat the mantra in my head, gripping onto it like it might stop my mind from spiraling out.
A shadow moves in my periphery- someone hands Noc a bottle of water.
He presses it into my hands, his fingers wrapping over mine, steadying them.
I try to drink, but my grip is too unsteady.
Water spills over my chin, soaking into my lap.
The cool plastic soothes hot hands, giving me something to hold onto.
I clutch it tight, dragging in deep, shaky breaths, grasping for anything that will pull me back before I completely fall apart.
The room has dipped itself into darkness, and someone has turned a light on, the soft glow chasing away the shadows.
I’m not sure how much time had passed, but Noc still crouches before me, his fingers still tracing soothing shapes over my skin.
I'm grateful for the touch, and that he didn’t coddle me.
The lingering feeling of drowning on dry land still renders my throat raw.
But breathing feels a bit easier, but when I speak, my voice is hoarse.
“I’m sorry. I think the stress of the last few weeks has caught up to me.
” My whole life has flipped upside down.
The secrets, the lies, the not knowing where fucking loyalties lie.
I knew it would all catch up to me sooner or later.
I could feel the fractures forming, my sanity cracking with every new betrayal.
It’s different when you’re out in the field - when you stumble into an unwanted truth.
That just pisses you off, but this? It’s personal, it feels like something else entirely.
It’s been able to penetrate the walls I built.
Noc keeps his voice gentle when he speaks to me.
“This is why I didn't want to tell you. But Volokov may taunt you.
Taunt me. I can't kill him just yet. He knows damn well you're my weakness, and he likes to put on a show for his guests.” The vomit rises again in my throat, but I manage to keep it down with a drink of water.
My voice is smoother when I speak. “I'm still going Noc.
If I had found this out in there, knowing that you knew, I'd have been so fucking pissed at you.
We need to trust each other again, this doesn't help your case.”
Remorse. That’s what I see when I look at him as he weaves through my words. “I know, I'm just trying to protect you. That’s all I've ever tried to do.” He says. I manage to exhale freely, release a breath without feeling my lungs recoiling off my rib cage.
“This is just a blip, I can handle myself.” I whisper, so that only he can hear me in the room.
A knowing smile spreads along that beautifully carved face of his.
“I know you can. We all have our moments.” His words feel like he’s been at a similar point in his life.
“Come on, we'll eat and then head to bed.” he says as he stands, holding his hand out for me to take, and I feel much steadier on my legs as he grips me tight.
I turn to see Phantom, Blitz and Adam standing at the threshold of the room.
With the look on their faces, Noc has obviously told them the source of my panic attack.
“We'll get him, Nyx” Adam speaks first, determination coating his words. My head turns to Phantom as he says, “If it’s the last thing we do.” It's the first time I’ve seen Blitz's evil smile reappear since this shitshow happened. “Both of them.”