Chapter 25
NICK
It’s not like me to doubt my own decisions, but even as I walk up the stairs toward Riley’s apartment, I’m questioning if it’s a smart thing to do.
She’s made it clear, after all, that she needs time.
I’ve been doing my best to respect that, but I’m not a patient man.
Not when it comes to decisions like this, and certainly not when my relationship with Riley as a whole hangs in the balance.
I have little doubt that she’s really going to call things off between us, but that doesn’t mean I’m content to sit around and wait.
It only makes it worse now that I’ve gotten a taste of life with her. Before, it was easy to say that relationships just weren’t for me, but now I know the truth.
Nothing worked before because it wasn’t with her.
Nothing will ever work if it’s not with her.
I haven’t been able to tell her that, haven’t even been able to so much as see her through the cameras at work because she took the whole week off. It’s eating away at me: impatience, need, and a gnawing loneliness.
I’ve forced myself to be content with the fact that she’s at least been reading all my texts, even if we haven’t spoken since Monday.
Worry didn’t start to seep into my veins until she stopped reading them.
It’s only been a few hours, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right. I didn’t expect Sloane to go as far as she did, and considering that the police have had no luck figuring out who her accomplices were, there’s a real chance that she’d send someone after Riley even from jail.
I’d rather prove myself wrong than fail to check.
The bulbs that light the stairwells in Riley’s little walk-up flicker like they’re threatening to go out at any moment, and I grit my teeth at the thought of her living here. I don’t have long to snarl at the thought before my eyes land on her door.
The book-shaped welcome mat is knocked halfway out of place, light spilling out across the landing.
The door’s open.
A spike of worry, ice cold and unfamiliar, lances through my chest, and I rush forward, covering the last few feet in seconds.
“Riley?” My voice is louder than it needs to be, echoing through the small apartment. “Riley!”
There’s no answer. No sign of Riley in the living room or attached kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom, devoid of any life.
The place is empty.
The only sign she was even here recently is the almost empty bottle of wine sitting next to a quarter-full glass on her rickety wooden coffee table.
I fumble for my phone, my heart racing in my chest, and call her again, praying that she’ll answer this time. There has to be an explanation. Maybe she went down to get her mail or is helping a neighbor with something.
My blood freezes in my veins when I catch sight of her phone on the couch.
I grab it, tapping at the screen only to see my missed calls from the last hour piling up with the one I just ended. My gut twists with something I haven’t felt for a long time, at least not like this.
Fear.
My hands shake as I pull up Bruno’s contact and call him, vision narrowed down to Riley’s phone like it’ll spring to life and tell me where she is.
He’s going to be pissed at me for asking for his help, but I couldn’t care less. If I have to leave D’Amico Global to Marcus and get my hands dirty again, I’ll do it, as long as she’s safe.
Fuck the consequences, I’ll deal with that later.
All that matters right now is finding Riley, and my brother can find anyone or anything, no matter where they’re hiding or who’s hiding them.
He was always the bogeyman our enemies feared when they were trying to stay under the radar, his connections and attention to detail making any attempt at concealing his target useless.
Even if he doesn’t want Riley around, I trust that he’ll help when his family needs it. He’s my best shot at getting her back.
He might be my only shot.
The call goes to voicemail after what feels like an eternity, and I curse under my breath as I hang up just to call him again.
“Come on, Bruno, pick up,” I urge, my eyes darting around Riley’s living room as panic starts to creep up my spine.
It feels like another ten years before the dial tone finally cuts off and is replaced by Bruno’s voice.
“Can’t talk right now, kid, call—”
“I need your help,” I say, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. “It’s an emergency.”
Bruno scoffs, and anger rises in my chest, pushing the panic further up my throat.
“I don’t help people who abandon my family. You can deal with your problems on your own, and your girl can deal with hers,” he says, sounding all too smug even though he’s breathing heavily, and alarm bells start to ring in the back of my mind. “I’m busy right now. You can beg me for—”
“What the fuck are you doing, Bruno?” I demand, my mouth going dry in fear of the answer.
He wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
“I’m tying up your loose ends before you can bring more shame to this family in the media, kid.”
He would.
My vision grays around the edges as uncontrollable rage floods my veins, and my whole body shakes when an agonized scream echoes over the line, quickly drowned out by Bruno’s laughter.
“You motherfucker!” I shout, chest heaving. “I’ll kill you, I swear to fucking God, Bruno.”
He snorts disbelievingly, a pained sob following the sound. “Whatever you say, kid. See you later.”
He hangs up before I can say another word, and my body moves on autopilot. I can’t feel a single thing as I vault halfway down the stairs and dash to my car, too numb to allow anything but my immediate goal to permeate my thoughts.
I need to get to Riley.
I need to get home.
I need to make him regret it if it’s the last thing I do.
He has no idea that Ma has kept me updated on the lay of the land even though I haven’t been involved in the family business for years. I know where the piece of shit does all his dirty work, and his favorite spot by far is one of the soundproof sheds on the edge of our family property.
It’s going to be his grave.
I put the pedal to the metal, weaving in and out of traffic with weaponized precision as I rush toward our family home.
My breathing is the kind of carefully steady that I’ve only ever noticed in the middle of a fight, my hands so tight on the wheel that my knuckles blanch white.
Somehow, I manage to make it there without crashing, and I skid the car to a stop at the very end of the driveway.
Thanking God that I never got out of the habit of keeping a gun in the car, I double-check that it’s loaded before hopping out and bolting through the side garden.
Sensation rushes back all at once when the shed finally comes into view. I flick the safety off on my gun as I put on even more speed. My heart slams painfully against my ribs, my lungs burning for air, and all I can think of is Riley.
I don’t slow down in the slightest when I reach the shed, instead barreling into the door at full speed.
I hit it hard enough to send it flying open, the wood splintering beneath the force. My shoulder screams in agony, but I pay it no mind as I raise my gun, training the sights right between Bruno’s eyes.
“Back off!” I shout before I even skid to a stop.
Riley is chained to a chair to his left, blood dripping from her nose and eyes wide with terror.
A massive, wickedly curved blade glints under the single bulb in the shed.
My gut twists at the sight of the blood that shines on it.
“Fucking stand down, Bruno. It’s over! You move a single inch and I’ll put a bullet in your head. ”
Those empty, shark-like eyes flit between my face and the gun leveled at his head, and even before his scarred lips part in a grin, I know what decision he’s going to make.
“Bruno, stop!” The words come out ragged, dragging up my throat like broken glass. “You’re still my brother, Bruce. Don’t do this. Don’t make me do this.”
His grin twists into a vicious, hateful sneer, and his knuckles go white around the hilt of the knife he’s holding.
“This,” he spits, gesturing between the two of us with the tip of his knife, “is your fault. You stopped being my brother when you left me and Ma to handle the dirty work so you could live it up in your fancy fucking office.”
“I’ll come back,” I promise, breathless and as close to pleading as I’ve been in a long time. “I’ll leave the company to Marcus. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it, Bruce, just let her go.”
Dark eyes narrow in a cruel grin.
“Put the gun down,” he says.
It’s both testing and taunting.
My hold on my gun doesn’t waver, and a muscle in my jaw ticks as dread creeps into my bloodstream.
“Put the knife down,” I fire back. “And let Riley go.”
A hateful scoff falls from his scarred lips, and bile rises in my throat.
“Still can’t put your family first,” he whispers furiously.
He digs his heel into the ground and whips around, slicing the blade through the air and aiming for Riley’s throat.
My finger clamps down on the trigger before he gets within two feet of her.
A scream bounces off the walls, ringing in my ears along with the gunshot.
The knife clatters to the floor.
Bruno’s body following.
I almost crumple to the ground along with him at the sight of the hole through his temple, the blood pooling on the ground just inches from Riley’s feet, but the shaky breath she sucks in has me moving on autopilot.
She’s shaking in the chair she’s bound to, and I rush forward, almost slipping in the blood staining the concrete.
My mouth is moving; I can feel it, but it seems like forever until I can hear myself speaking.
“Riley, baby, I’ve got you,” I say, my voice shaking almost as much as my hands. “Don’t look at him. Close your eyes. I’m here.”
I have to kneel down to bash the butt of my gun against the lock holding the chains in place, but it shatters after a well-placed blow.
Riley yanks her hands free of the chains as soon as she feels the slack in them.
She collapses into my arms, sobbing and wheezing in panicked breaths, incoherent words spilling from her lips as I brush her hair out of her face.
Her upper lip is crusted with dried blood from her nose and she’s got a hell of a shiner, but everything else I can see is surface level.
A few shallow cuts adorn her arms, and some budding bruises are on her shoulders, but nothing that looks like it could prove fatal.
It makes me wish I could kill Bruno all over again.
“Riley,” I whisper, hoarse and still too worked up to keep my voice steady. “Fuck, Princess, you’re okay. I’ve got you; you’re safe. I’m so fucking glad you’re safe.”
Tears burn behind my eyelids as she clings to me weakly, and I wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her hair and holding her close.
“Nick,” she sobs, trembling in my arms. “I was so scared; he just showed up and took me. He’s—oh my God, Nick, he’s—you—”
“Don’t look,” I urge, holding her head still to prevent her from turning.
She’s already gotten far closer to this than I ever wanted her to.
I don’t want her to have to live with the sight of it seared into her memory either.
Broken sobs fall from her lips as she buries her face in my shoulder, and I clutch her tight, trying to get my heart to settle back into a normal rhythm.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, closing my eyes as my throat tightens with emotion. “I shouldn’t have let this happen. I should have kept you safe. I’m so fucking sorry, Riley. I love you.”
The words spill out like a flood, the terror finally abating when they escape.
Riley hiccups her way through her tears, leaning back to slide her shaking hand up to cup my cheek. She sucks in a weak breath, but before she can say anything, her eyes roll back in her head, and she goes limp in my arms.
“Riley? Riley!”
I shake her, panic surging through me again until I realize I can still see her pulse fluttering in her throat.
She could have passed out from stress or injury, but at least she’s still alive. I push up from the floor with her in my arms, my mind racing to figure out how quickly I can get her to a hospital from here, when I hear a sharp, broken gasp from behind me.
I whirl on my heel, holding Riley protectively against my chest, and my heart shatters at the sight I’m greeted with.
“Ma…”
Her hand is up over her mouth, wide blue eyes fixed on Bruno’s body.
“Bruce,” she whispers, agony festering in the single syllable. “Oh, God. I heard the shot… Nicky, what happened?”
My throat closes up, guilt sitting like lead in my gut. I don’t feel bad for what I did, but hurting Ma is never something I’ll forgive myself for.
“I’m sorry.” My voice is ragged and weak around the edges, more honest than I’ve let myself be in years. “Ma, I’m so sorry. He kidnapped Riley, he was going to kill her. I… I’m sorry.”
It’s the only thing I can say.
Riley’s unconscious form is cradled in my arms and my brother’s lifeless body is going cold on the floor behind me. I can’t take it back. I can’t make it better.
I didn’t want it to end up this way.
Tears litter her eyes, slipping down over the curves of her cheeks as she quietly sobs, her hand grasping the edge of the doorframe as she tries to hold herself up. Regardless of the life we live, he was still her son.
“You stupid boy—” she mutters under her breath, eyes on my brother’s body as she shakes her head. “You just couldn’t let your brother be happy…”
I know she isn’t talking to me, but the words still sting nonetheless.
“Ma—”
I try to reason with her, but as her eyes meet mine, they turn from anger to pity. “He knew the rules, Nicky. This isn’t on you. I warned him; I tried to tell him to leave you be but he wouldn’t listen. This—this is on me.”
Standing a little straighter, she takes a shaky breath, wiping the tears from under her eyes as her bottom lip quivers. “Is she alright?”
“I think so.” I look down at the blood on her face, hate filling me over the notion that I didn’t keep her safe. “I need to get her to the hospital.”
“Get her in the car. I’ll call Clark at Mercy. We’ll get her taken care of.” She spares Bruno one last glance, her eyes glistening painfully, before she turns on her heel and steps back out of the shed. “I’ll take care of your brother.”
“You don’t have to do it on your own—”
She lifts a hand, cutting me off as she casts a glance at me from over her shoulder. “This is the life we live, Nicky. No matter how much it hurts, we know the risks going in and we prepare ourselves accordingly. Now, go. We don’t need to lose anyone else.”