Chapter Twenty
Riven
“Lemme grab my jacket.” She disappears into the back without waiting for me.
I stay where I am, standing in the center of the shop like I’m not in LBC territory. Like I didn’t just walk in here alone. Like I didn’t choose this over supporting one of my guys at tonight’s fight.
She comes back a minute later, shrugging into a worn leather jacket, this one absent of the LBC crest on its back, keys in hand.
“Alright.” She mutters, brushing past me.
“Let’s get this over with.” I fall into step beside her.
“Already soundin’ like you’re havin’ fun,” I smirk.
“I’m not.”
“Give it time.” She rolls her eyes but doesn’t stop walking.
We don’t go far. Just a few blocks. But not toward anything loud. Not toward the streets where people linger, and she notices.
“Where are we goin’?” She asks.
“Somewhere I won’t get killed.” I retorted.
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“You’ll live.”
“That’s not reassuring.” She replies.
“It wasn’t supposed to be.” She huffs under her breath, but follows me nonetheless.
We walk side by side, with a few inches of space between us. An appropriate amount of space for normal people, but us? It’s scandalous. If anyone were to catch the two of us together, not at each other’s throats, there’d be hell to pay.
Soon enough, the cathedral slowly comes into view. Tall. Old. Ominous. The stone darkened by time. It sits just far enough off the central streets that no one’s paying attention this late.
“Seriously?” Nadia slows.
“You’re takin’ me to church on a Sunday. How original.”
I don’t answer. Just cut around the side, toward a narrow service door tucked behind the structure. She watches me as I test the handle. Locked. Of course. I don’t have anything on me that can break the lock; I left all my knives at home. Didn’t want her getting the wrong idea.
I glance at her. She raises a brow.
“What?”
“You know how to get in?” She stares at me for a second, then smirks. No doubt she would.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
I stand guard as she gets to work. And two minutes later, the door clicks open. Turning, I notice that the lock isn’t broken and she isn’t holding any tool that would’ve picked it. I don’t ask how. She doesn’t offer any explanation.
Inside, it’s dark. Quiet in a way that feels heavier than silence. Our footsteps echo as we move through a narrow corridor, then toward a winding staircase. Old. Tight. Stone spiraling upward. She pauses at the base.
“You’re takin’ me into a church tower in the middle of the night.” She says.
“That’s your big plan?”
“Relax.”
“I don’t relax.”
“I’ve noticed.” She shakes her head but starts up anyway.
The climb is longer and steeper than it looks. Step after step, the air getting cooler, thinner. The sounds of the town fade the higher we go. Until it’s just us. Footsteps. Breathing. Nothing else.
At the top, there’s a narrow door. The second I open it, the wind hits us immediately. Sharp. Cold. Unforgiving. The view opens up all at once. The enormous bronze bell hangs stagnant, tarnished and rusted by time. I don’t think it even works anymore, too corroded to swing.
Behind it, Stonebridge stretches out below, streetlights cutting through darkness, buildings scattered like something almost organized. From up here, it looks different. Smaller. Controlled.
Nadia steps out first and stops. She doesn’t say anything. Just looks. Appreciates. Victory grips at my chest.
“Okay.” She admits quietly, albeit reluctantly. I lean against a stone arch behind her.
“Not terrible, right?”
“Don’t ruin it.” She fucking pouts. It’s fucking adorable. I smirk slightly.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
She moves closer to the edge, resting her hands on the stone, eyes scanning the town like she’s memorizing it. Like she already owns it. I watch her instead, nothing Stonebridge has to offer nearly as captivating as her.
“You gonna tell me what this is?” She asks after a second.
“It’s not a date.” I remind her.
“Right.” She glances at me.
“Two people… hangin’ out.”
“Exactly.” She hums like she doesn’t believe a word of it.
I can’t bring myself to buy that bullshit either.
This is very much a date. A date that has no right to happen, but I couldn’t give a fuck if I tried.
All I know is that I have her up here, my quiet place, all to myself.
She came here, with me , of her own free will.
That says a lot more than either of us ever will.
I push off the wall, stepping closer. Close enough that I can smell the pomegranate and car oil wafting off her skin. Close enough that the wind shifts around us instead of through us.
“Tell me something real,” I say. The words land softer than my previous ones. Not a challenge. Something else. She stills. Doesn’t turn right away.
“Something real.” She repeats.
“Yeah.”
“About what?” She looks at me, perplexed. I shrug.
“Anything.” A long pause. Then she exhales, pushing off the ledge.
“How about I show you somethin’ instead.” My brows pull slightly.
“What?” She doesn’t answer. Just heads back toward the stairs.
“C’mon, Phantom.”
This time, she leads me. Back to Spencer’s Automotive. She unlocks her car, a badass Dodge Viper, and hops in the driver's seat. There’s no hesitation on my part. I have a feeling that I would follow Nadia Slade to hell and back if she so much as gave me a single look.
The city fades behind us faster than before. Streetlights thin. Roads narrow. The kind of roads you don’t take unless you know exactly where you’re going. She doesn’t hesitate. Not once. I watch her expert hands maneuver the wheel.
She’s steady, exuding a confidence that’s both natural and practiced. Honed from a lifetime of hardships. Like the car does exactly what she tells it to. And it does. Now I get it.
Eventually, she slows down. Pulls off near a stretch of mountain road that looks like it’s been forgotten. There are no lights or markings. Just asphalt winding up into darkness.
She could kill me here, and no one would be any the wiser. Instead, she kills the engine. Silence drops heavy around us. I step out first, looking ahead. The road consists of sharp turns. Blind curves. No guardrails. A death trap if I’d ever seen one.
“You brought me out here for this?” I ask when she finally gets out. She walks past me, stopping at the start of the road.
“Used to be a mining route.” She tells me.
“No one touches it now.” I follow her steps.
“And?” She turns, eyes lit with something I haven’t seen before. It’s bewitching.
“Imagine it.” She gestures up the road, excitement in her tone.
“Cars flyin’ through here. No room for mistakes. Up the mountain. Down the other side. Fast enough that if you mess up,” She shrugs nonchalantly.
“You’re done.” I take a beat to process it.
“You’re serious.”
“I’m always serious.” She glares. I look back at the road. Then at her.
“You’d run this.”
“Yeah.” She admits.
“You’d build this.”
“Yes.” Another beat.
“You’d… win it.” Seeing her vision. There’s that smile again. Sharp. Certain.
“Obviously.”
Something clicks. Something clear and immediate.
I shake my head slightly, looking back at the road.
Then at her. In awe of this woman who just may be as insane as I am.
But that’s what makes her, her. An ice-cold woman with a fiery passion and loyalty when it comes to the things and the people she loves.
What would it be like to be one of those people?
To have a chance to be one of those people?
“You’re insane, Nadia.”
“I’ve been told.” She grins, hearing the joking way I tell the truth. I study her for a second longer. Then:
“Daredevil.” The word makes her blink.
“What?” She tilts her head. I nod toward the road and back at her.
“That’s what this is. A dare.” I come closer to her, wanting her to see the reverence I hold for her.
“And you’re the one stupid enough to take it.”
She scoffs, but she’s smiling now. Seeing that smile?
Being on the other end of it, bringing it out of her?
It’s the best feeling in the world. It’s a smile she has just for me.
I need to make it happen more for her. Until there’s a day when giving me my smile comes naturally, without a second thought, without her having to be guarded.
“Stupid?”
“Yeah.” I agree, but pause.
“Or fearless.” I change my answer. The wind cuts through the silence. She looks back at the road. Then down it. Her road. Her track.
“Daredevil.” She repeats quietly, the word scared falling from her lips. She says it like she’s testing it. Like it fits.
I watch her. I always watch her. I don’t hate it anymore. And for the first time, I understand why I came tonight.
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s you.”