Chapter 2
TWO
Nevaeh
“But I thought Nero had you,” I say for the fifth time in minutes.
Dad’s arms encircle me, his minty cologne tickling my nose.
The same smell I identified as safety when I was a child.
But as he embraces me and strokes a hand along my hair, I’m reminded of the scent that signifies safety to me as a woman.
The warm and earthy musk that belongs to Caelian.
I find myself dizzy closing my eyes and trying to remember the smell.
I lose track of time and place, willing myself to return to the weeks we’d had together.
Mornings where I’d open my eyes and he’d be asleep at my side and his large hands would pull me closer.
We’d waste so much time just lying in each other’s arms, soaking up the morning light.
My heart aches thinking about how it’s over. I’ll probably never see him again.
If I ever do, he’ll hate me.
“Honey, are you alright?” Dad asks, patting me on the back.
I flinch coming back to the present, then give a stiff nod. Anyone who’s a decent read on people could tell it’s insincere, my expression vacant and distracted. But Mom and Dad are too preoccupied with other things to notice.
Ignazio’s harping on about the next phase in our plan.
I collapse in one of the office chairs and remind myself to listen. It’s not as if they’ll be upfront with me otherwise…
“We should go for the lockbox,” he says. “Tonight. We have the code.”
Mom shakes her head and leans closer to Dad like he’s a crutch. “We were just reunited five minutes ago. Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for this moment?”
“Have all the hunky-dory family moments you want—after we retrieve what’s in the lockbox. We do it tonight. Before Nero’s even up to speed on what’s going on.”
“He’s already looking for me,” Dad says.
“You know this how?”
“You might be expendable, Ignazio, but I’m not,” Dad answers with a dismissive air. He curls an arm around Mom and uses the other to gesture at me. “My wife and daughter need rest. They’ve been on the road for hours.”
Ignazio scowls and turns his back on us. He wanders over to the window. As he passes me by, I catch bits and pieces of his irritated mumbles. Things like “fools” and “they’ll come to regret it.”
Redirecting my attention across the office space, I spend a second observing Mom and Dad. They’ve fallen into their own hushed exchange, glancing at Ignazio by the window and then over at me. Mom’s eyes meet mine by accident, and my insides twist.
I breathe out slowly and will myself to speak up. A concept so foreign to me given my upbringing.
“What happens after we use the code for the lockbox? What’s inside that you want so badly?”
Dad and Mom hesitate before answering. They seem to come to an unspoken agreement about who will do the painstaking task of humoring me. Dad takes up the task.
“Nevaeh, you know how long we’ve fought to be together.”
“But we’re together now. How does the lockbox matter?”
Dad starts to answer, but Mom cuts in with a much harsher tone. “Do you like being together, Nevaeh?”
“Of course, but—”
“Do you want to stay together?”
“Yes, but I’m just ask—”
“If you like being together as a family and want to stay together, then what does it matter?” she interrupts hastily. “Haven’t your father and I always done what’s best for you? Haven’t we always made sure you’re taken care of?”
“I guess… in your own way…”
“You should be grateful for us. All that we’ve done for you.”
Any sense of nerve dulls. I can’t string together the words to refute Mom. Even though on the inside I’m still feeling anchored by grief and dread. I’m still feeling as if the situation I’m in isn’t what I’ve been led to believe.
Ignazio smokes his cigarette perched by the window. Mom and Dad return to their murmured exchange.
I drift off in the chair I’m seated in.
Caelian’s face appears first. Then the rest of his body materializes. His size as hulking as I remember him, his tattoos and muscles on display. He walks toward me, eclipsing me within seconds. I’m his again.
In my dreams, it feels so real. His lips touch mine and his palms maraud my body. It’s too good to be true. Which is why I sink deeper into the dream, realizing I don’t ever want to wake up.
Ignazio’s bearish snores force me to anyway.
I spring up in the office chair to find the room dark and the others fast asleep.
Ignazio’s nodded off in a chair like me.
Mom and Dad have chosen the sleeping bags on the floor.
I sit and listen to the soundtrack of chirping crickets and Ignazio rumbling out snores.
But it’s still not enough to drown out the startled thumps of my heart.
Forcing deep gulps of air, I blink out of my drowsiness and realize the dream wasn’t real. Daunting reality settles in, and I remember where I am and with whom. I’ve left Caelian because Mom and Dad needed my help. They wanted to ensure our family’s survival.
…or so I thought.
I hadn’t counted on the premonition plaguing me. I’m not relieved to be back with my family; I’m uncomfortable and on edge. I’m in the dark about whatever’s really going on. Mom and Dad seem satisfied leaving me oblivious.
How could I be here when my rightful place is with Caelian?
Is he already out scouring the city for me? Does he miss me? Would he want me back?
I don’t think. I have to find out. If there’s even a chance…
After checking Mom and Dad are still knocked out in their sleeping bags, I rise off the office chair and tiptoe across the room.
I’m not sure what I’ll do once I make it out of the warehouse.
Vague memories of the last time I’d tried to flee like this come up—I’d found out Caelian had bought me out of my contract and had tried to escape my dorm building.
Halfway through the room, I stop to snag the to-go bag I’ve brought with me.
As I come up on the door, there’s a real chance it could happen again. If Caelian’s already started looking for me, he could spring out any second and jam another syringe in my throat. I wouldn’t protest if he did…
But he doesn’t show up. He doesn’t impede me on my escape attempt.
Instead, Mom jerks awake from her sleeping bag and shouts, “Nevaeh! What are you doing?”
A metaphorical spotlight shines on me.
Dad sputters awake. Ignazio flips out of his office chair and smacks onto the ground.
Mom hops to her feet and darts for the light switch.
When the light does come on, it nearly blinds me. I squint against the sudden brightness.
Really, it’s the horror of being caught.
Mom marches up to me with suspicion narrowing her eyes. “Were you about to leave?”
“I… I was going to the bathroom,” I stammer.
“With your bag?”
“I have personal items in here—”
“You think I don’t know when you’re lying? I carried you for nine months, Nevaeh.”
Dad and Ignazio have now risen to their feet and lurk in the background as spectators. Both seem lukewarm to the display that’s happening before them—a mother accosting her daughter about a late-night trip to the bathroom.
This is not where I belong…
I clutch my bag to my chest and sharpen my tone. “I’m a woman. A married woman. I don’t owe you an answer about my whereabouts.”
“You don’t owe me any answers?” Mom hacks out a laugh in my face.
She edges closer, and I ease back, touching the surface of the door.
“You’re not capable of making your own decisions, Nevaeh.
You’ve been sheltered your whole life. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you walked out that door.
You’d be in tears begging to come back after a couple hours. ”
“I would be fine!”
Mom’s lips pull into a patronizing smile. “You cry when people raise their voices, Nevaeh. You have never been the strong type, not like me and your father. You can’t even do us this favor and help us. Instead you try to run scared.”
“Niece,” Dad says. “Not too hard. Nevaeh knows her limitations. She knows she’d never risk it out there. She doesn’t have a death wish.”
“She could barely ride the subway. I used to have her partner Darren ride with her.” Ignazio gives a disapproving shake of his head.
“That’s not true!” I snap.
“Go ahead then, Nevaeh,” Dad says calmly. “Turn your back on your family.”
Uncertainty makes my pulse tick faster. I resist the urge to back down like I’ve done the few times I’ve tried to stand up for myself. It sweeps in and almost overtakes me. Then I look into Dad’s eyes and see the coldness there.
His disapproval just because I’ve gone against him for once.
He doesn’t care what happens to me. He’s upset because he sees the code slipping through his fingers.
“It feels more like you’ve turned your back on me, Dad. It feels a lot like both of you care more about a prize than your daughter.” I spin on my heel and twist the doorknob.
“Nevaeh, don’t you dare!” Mom starts, then screams.
I’ve opened the door to a handful of men with slicked-back hair and dark clothes. But it’s not their faces I pay attention to so much as the guns in their hands.
Nero’s crew.