53. Nina
53
NINA
Arlo leaves the room.
Pavlos takes his spot, his eyes studying every bit of my figure. I squirm when he stops on my legs. He notices and smirks. The closest weapon is the bottle of alcohol on the minibar. I uncross my ankles in case I need to lunge for it.
Arlo reenters the room and claps his hands once. “I hope your bags are packed!”
My blood runs cold, poisoned with dread. I know Wesley is planning something; he won’t stop until I’m home safe.
I only hope that it happens before I’m flown into another country.
Pavlos grins as he takes a zip tie from his pocket. He stands in front of me, closer than necessary, as he binds my wrists. He hauls me up as we head toward the elevators.
Don’t get into the car.
No matter what, I need to fight. I could die, but I’d rather fight here than in a foreign country. Arlo drapes a suit jacket over my bound wrists before we walk through the lobby.
“Same rules, princess,” Pavlos says. “You scream, you run, you die.”
Fuck that.
He grips my arm tight as we walk outside. The heat smacks me in the face as I notice the car’s open door in front of me. Deep breath. Time to fight.
Fssss-pop!
Something warm splatters my face. Pavlos’s hold on me loosens as he drops to the ground, blood pouring from the hole in his head. My ears start ringing, muffling the shouts.
Pop! Pop-pop-pop!
I turn in time to see Arlo grabbing me, a gun to my head, as the royal guard approaches, armed with weapons. Someone leads Jack, who clutches his bloody arm, behind a van that pulls up. I spot another dead body—one of Arlo’s men. I shake the jacket from the wrists as Arlo tries to back us into the building, only to find the doors shut and locked. He bangs the glass and curses, still using me as a shield.
My entire body vibrates and the buzzing hasn’t subsided. I can’t decipher the shouting. I can’t do anything with my wrists bound and an arm wrapped around my chest. How is this happening so fast? Time moves at increased, warped speed—and I’m stuck in slow motion.
Arlo drags us a few feet down the sidewalk, and I look at Pavlos’s body again. The bullet wound is on the left side of his head, but the royal guard approached from the right.
Wesley.
It has to be.
The thought pushes the world back into my mind just enough to move. Arlo still cowers behind me, shouting threats and demands. I brace my legs and pour all my strength into shoving us back against the brick wall. The ricochet from his gunshot helps, and I knock the wind out of him enough to loosen his hold. I instantly drop to the ground and curl into a ball, knowing what’s next.
A whizzing sound hisses through the air, followed by wet gurgling. I scramble out of the way the moment before Arlo’s body falls, and my stomach lurches at the sight. The ringing in my ears gets even stronger as the world cuts to a halt again. I can’t rip my eyes from the torn hole in Arlo’s throat. Blood oozes out, drop by drop. His mouth is open. His eyes are vacant. Hands close around my arms to lift me, but my limbs have lost all feeling again. I don’t know who’s holding me, but he drags me away from…
Chaos.
An ambulance opens its rear doors, and whoever carries me—Silas—sets me on the edge. He slices my zip ties and frees my wrists. I shut my eyes as the buzzing pierces my head. The paramedic steadies me, asking questions as she searches for signs of injury. I can’t hear her over the ringing. She clamps her mouth shut when she realizes I won’t answer.
What the fuck just happened?
“NINA!”
I startle, looking up to find Wesley. Energy slams back into my body, and I sprint to him. He captures me in his arms, reaching up to lock his hand on the back of my neck. A sob scratches from my throat as warmth floods me. I dig my face into his neck.
“Thank god,” he cries in a whisper.
I clench his shirt, the tears finally breaking free amidst the chaos of ambulances and police. He hugs me almost too tightly, but the feeling of his chest against mine calms my heartbeat.
“I’m sorry,” he says into my neck. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve lied.”
I want to apologize, too, but words get stuck in my throat. When I pull away to breathe, he checks me for wounds.
“Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, right?”
I nod. Wesley studies my face, brushing away drops of blood with his thumb. Blood that’s not mine. I shudder, pulling him to ride with me to the hospital. The paramedic tries asking me questions again. I answer, but that doesn’t mean my hands have stopped shaking.
When she starts yelling at the driver about the traffic, I lean on Wesley’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, too,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Don’t be,” he says gently, kissing my head.
There’s so much to say, and I say nothing at all. I froze again . I didn’t move fast enough, twice , to keep from Arlo grabbing me. Silas had to drag me to safety.
Seconds after I sit on the edge of the hospital bed in a private room, my family rushes inside. My heart drops when Wesley leaves the room, but I catch his eyes. He nods, as if inferring he’ll be right outside.
Despite everything, I lean on Dad’s chest as he hugs me, feeling the thump of his heart. Maia holds my hand. Ruby strokes my back. I not only cry because of what I saw, but of feeling loved by my family.
In the silence, my stomach grumbles loudly. Maia snorts, and we break out into fragile laughter as the nurse steps into the room for my examination.
“We’ll go find you some food? A meal?” Ruby suggests.
I nod. “Okay.”
Dad and Ruby leave for the cafeteria while Maia promises to sit outside the room. Before the nurse can start, I ask, “Uh, is it okay if my boyfriend is in here with me?”
The nurse blinks, surprised. “Oh—of course.”
She peeks out the doorway, and Wesley soon follows her inside. This woman isn’t a threat, but I want him close by. He sits in a chair as she runs me through some tests. My heartbeat has long settled, but my hands are just starting to calm.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she says, handing me a bag of crackers and a water bottle.
I set them aside, unable to eat yet. Wesley stands beside me, stroking my back. To think we were curled up, cozy in bed, just this morning.
“Was that you?” I ask suddenly. “Who… who shot them.”
I know the answer. Perhaps knowing and hearing it will somehow make a difference—make it easier. He tucks some of my frizz behind my ear and says, “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
His face tenses with anguish, and my heart breaks with guilt at his internal torment. The goal was for Wesley to not kill anyone.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“What?” he stammers. “This wasn’t your fault. Not in the slightest.”
“I know, but?—”
“No, Nina. None of that. I don’t regret what I did, and neither should you.”
I lean my head on his chest, easing into his arms. I’m still struggling to register what happened today. It all happened so fast that I didn’t remember how to move until three people were already shot.
But it’s over. Relief rushes into me when I realize that it’s done .
I take a giant sleeping pill that night.
Wesley stays with me in case I have nightmares, but my slumber is so deep that time moves from hours into minutes. When I wake, my body is too heavy to move itself. I groan.
Footsteps pad through the room. A weight dips on the bed. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
My bonnet is suddenly shifted from my eyes and I find Wesley staring back at me.
“What time is it?” I grumble, nowhere nearly as sexy as his morning voice.
“Eleven.”
I groan again. Late. For me, at least. I flip onto my back, smelling aftershave and noticing he’s dressed for the day. I rub the sleep from my eyes. “Where are you going?”
“A debrief and then a hearing.”
“A hearing?” I echo. “Should I be worried?”
At the end of the day, Wesley killed multiple people. A tiny smile pulls at his lips. “No. Will you be okay for a few hours?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I reach out and brush my fingers over his chest, feeling the bandage beneath his shirt. “How bad does it hurt?”
He shrugs. “Not much.” He kisses me before getting to his feet. “It’s a good thing you woke up now. I already ordered you breakfast. Should be here any moment.”
I extend my body in a stretch, my arms above me. “French toast?”
“Of course.”
After Wesley leaves and I stuff my face with french toast, Dad knocks on my door. It’s relatively normal between us for the first time in what feels like months. We talk about our plans for moving from America to Maldana. And for a few minutes, we even talk about Mom and how I feel closer to her. Anger threatens to simmer underneath my skin, a reminder that it shouldn’t have taken almost twenty years to happen. But it’s manageable.
My phone dings with a text.
Wesley
How was breakfast?
It’s a simple question, but I still blush at the thoughtfulness.
Delicious. I might fall into a food coma.
Wesley
At least wait until I get back.
“Everything okay?” Dad asks.
“Oh, yeah,” I perk, setting my phone down. “Just Wesley checking in on me.”
He releases a long breath. “Your bodyguard, huh?” he says, leaning back on the sofa and pausing to find the words. “He’s a frightening man.”
“Not to me.”
“He’s a murderer , Nina,” he snaps, and I fall silent. The memory of blood pouring from Arlo’s open throat flashes across my mind. That was Wesley. The vision will haunt me forever, but I can’t bring myself to blame or hate him for it. It wouldn’t feel natural.
Dad softens, his tone almost pleading. “I… He killed those men.”
Stiff silence wedges between us. I shrink, wrapping my arms around my middle. “What do you want me to say, Dad? That I love him in spite of that? Because I do, and I’m not convincing you to understand my reasoning.”
In other words, I’m tired of arguing with him.
“He killed for me,” I add, my voice quiet. “Wouldn’t you want your daughter to be in love with someone who would kill to keep her safe?”
Dad might not have pictured me falling in love with a former assassin, but it’s a good thing it’s not up to him. He lifts his hands in surrender before touching my wrist.
“I’m grateful for him,” he admits. “You’re right; he saved my little girl. I just worry , Nina. All I ever do is worry about you and your sister. I want you girls to have everything you ever wished for.”
I shrug, fighting the prick behind my eyes. “All I want is a dad who’s… who’s there —one who loves me for being his daughter and not what I can do for him.”
My voice cracks and the tears come, anyway. He scoots closer to wrap his arms around me, and I curl against his chest, shedding soft tears. I cling to my father, inhaling the scent of the cherry almond lotion he always wears. We stay like this for minutes, and I finally know what it feels like for him to see where I’m coming from. He doesn’t try to correct me.
For the first time, he’s there for me.
“The Court wants him gone,” Dad says quietly.
I pull from the hug, wiping my face. “Who—Wesley? That’s what they told you?”
He nods. “They’re having a meeting about it in an hour.”
“That’s bullshit,” I sneer before I can think twice about cursing in front of my dad. “Mom left so she could be with someone she loved and wanted a future with. What would she say if they were trying to do exactly what drove her away?”
His eyes glisten with unshed tears. I’m sure this reminds him of everything that happened with Mom all those years ago.
“Then we should tell them that.”