Chapter 11
Nick
I FOUND NADYA JUST inside the main entrance to the train station, waiting with a battered canvas duffel and a very Nadya-esque backpack patched with art-school buttons.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I said as I grabbed both bags.
“Don’t you have your own bags to carry?” Nadya asked, but she didn’t try to take her luggage back.
I shrugged the shoulder where my duffel hung. “It’s not so heavy that I won’t manage. Besides, you can’t run off on me if I got your bags.”
“I only run off after...” She trailed off, then cleared her throat and said, “After.”
After sex. Yeah, I could see why she’d feel the need to escape, considering her trauma. I never blamed her for leaving, no matter how much I wished she’d stayed.
“Well, I wouldn’t want anyone to snatch you up, then,” I added quickly to avoid the awkwardness.
“You think someone’s going to snatch me between the tracks and the platform?” she asked, then eyed my biceps. “Or are you just flexing for the whole city?”
“From the whole city? No. For you? Definitely.” I really shouldn’t be flirting with her.
She was no longer that hot girl I had hooked up with and couldn’t get out of my head.
She was a witness now. But she also was that girl, and I still couldn’t get her out of my mind, no matter how much I knew I should keep a professional distance.
We cut through the crowd, Nadya barely having to duck or dodge. Every time we entered a crowd, she simply moved to walk behind me while I parted the Red Sea for her.
I scanned each new patch of crowd before we hit it, running threat assessments out of habit. Middle-aged guy in tech company fleece, low to mid-level threat. Old lady with a walker— the least likely to attempt kidnapping Nadya.
The ticket check was barely a blip; I held both passes up, the conductor nodded, and we were funneled down the train cart.
Nadya eyed the long and narrow corridor with a suspicious glare. “This is not the Hogwarts Express. Remind me again, why are we riding the train? Because I’m pretty sure your average prison transport has better snacks.”
I grinned. “You want to be strip-searched before we board? I can call ahead.”
She grinned back, tension in her jaw relaxing a little. She was nervous, I could tell, but she hid it under sarcasm better than anyone I’d ever met.
We found our roomette, and I ducked my head in first. Damn. It looked like a closet and a dollhouse had a baby, but at least it looked nothing like driving a car, so that was a win.
Two seats faced each other, maybe two feet apart, and a fold-down shelf was supposed to count as a table. There were also a tiny sink and a toilet. Literally next to one of the seats. It was so close and so small you could use the toilet lid as a coaster.
“You pick the seat,” I said as I let Nadya walk in. She paused on the threshold, turned, and looked at me like she was about to call me on my bluff. Instead, she stepped inside, looked left, looked right, and then doubled over laughing.
“You booked us a phone booth with luxury accommodations, Agent Santana?” she said, plopping onto the nearest seat.
“I wanted to avoid any car-related triggers, and I figured this is as uncar-like as I could get.”
She waved a hand. “You could have just put me in coach, you know. I mean, I ride the subway and the bus all the time.”
But she was watching me, gauging. It had been like this the first time we had met, too, as if she expected me to overreact to every little thing.
“You’re a real charmer, Tuna.”
I grinned. “You remember that?”
“Dan texted me. He says you still owe him for the nickname.”
I groaned. Dan and his buddies had been the ones to give me the cursed name. I’d say I owed him an ass-kicking for it, but I wasn’t sure I’d win that fight. Dan was a beast.
After stowing the bags overhead, I closed the door and sat opposite Nadya, knees almost touching. Not bad, I told myself. This was the right choice.
The train lurched forward, and New York started to roll by.
Nadya looked out the window, then back at me. “What’s our cover story?” she said.
I arched a brow. “Cover story?”
“I mean, two adults, one roomette, late-night train. Either you’re my secret lover, or you’re spiriting me away to a witness protection safe house. There’s no in-between.”
“Can’t it be both?” I deadpanned.
She snorted. “You wish.”
“Actually, I do,” I said, surprising myself. Seriously shouldn’t go there. She was a witness.
Nadya looked at me, really looked, for a couple of beats.
Something about the way her smile lingered—not just the lips but the eyes—made me feel like maybe she remembered that night as vividly as I had.
Maybe she even thought about it from time to time, wishing she hadn’t snuck out while I pretended to sleep.
In truth, I’d never sleep through that. I also never would’ve forced her to stay the night when she felt the need to run, especially since she had been clear from the start that she hadn’t been interested in a repeat performance. Definitely no attachments.
I broke the silence. “We get in around one. There’s a hotel about three blocks from the station, already booked. How do you feel about motorcycles?”
She blinked in surprise. “Motorcycles? Never ridden one, but maybe I should’ve. Are we getting one?”
I shrugged with one shoulder. “There’s a motorcycle rental place close enough to the hotel. I figured it wouldn’t be triggering for you.”
“Thanks. I’m happy to ride whatever lets me get my hands on your ass.”
“Your hands will be on my waist, not on my ass, woman. Keep talking like this, and I’ll think you failed biology.”
The train rocked gently. The walls rattled. The lights overhead dimmed as we cleared the city, and Nadya’s voice got softer, less armored.
“It’s weird,” she said. “I thought I’d be more anxious, but it’s just... quiet.”
I nodded. “That’s normal. The scariest part is deciding to do it, not actually doing it.”
Nadya curled her legs up, feet tucked under her, then looked at the “amenities”—the sink and the toilet.
“Is it weird if I have to pee and you’re in the room?”
I shook my head. “Just don’t try to seduce me while I’m at my most vulnerable. Or I can just step out to give you privacy.”
Nadya decided to forgo the bathroom break, though. Instead, she pulled out her phone, thumbed through messages, then put it away without typing. Her walls were coming down, molecule by molecule.
“You didn’t have to do all this, you know. Babysit me. Travel out here. Book a train.”
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “I could say it’s my job, but the truth is, I just wanted to make sure you were safe. Or at least, safer.”
She chewed on that, then nodded. “Thanks.”
The world outside was all black now, windows reflecting the room back at us like a split-screen interview. Nadya’s face in the glass looked more at peace than I’d ever seen it.
“Should we take a nap?” she asked.
I glanced up at the top bunk, then got up to check it out. The space was so tiny I’d probably have a hard time rolling over without bumping against the ceiling.
“You ever see a six-foot-three gorilla try to wedge itself into a breadbox?” I asked.
She smirked. “No, but I’d pay to watch.”
“You’re about to get a free show.” Because I wouldn’t subject Nadya to this. Damn, I should’ve splurged on a bedroom instead of the roomette. “But let’s get your bed ready first.”
There was an extra mattress for the bottom bunk, so I unfolded the seat to turn it into a bed, then put the mattress over it and made Nadya’s bed before arranging my bunk.
I checked the pillow situation and found them surprisingly comfortable. Unfortunately, there was only one blanket between us, if it could even be called that.
“You want the blanket?” I offered.
“I’m Ukrainian. We don’t get cold.”
“I’m Italian. We get cold and then complain about it for the rest of the year.”
She laughed, a real one, the kind that makes you want to bottle it up for emergencies. “Seriously, I’m not even going to change since it’s only a couple of hours of nap time. I’ll be fine.”
“I can call to ask for another one,” I offered, but Nadya waved it off.
Instead of pressing the issue, I climbed to the top bunk and squeezed myself in. Nadya popped her head up to see how I managed and had herself a good laugh at my expense.
“Now you’re canned tuna.”
I chuckled at that. She wasn’t wrong. Good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic.
Leaving me to my torture chamber, Nadya curled up on the lower bunk. I watched her through the mirror hanging over the ill-placed toilet. Her head rested on the pillow, face turned away. She didn’t cry, or shudder, or show any sign of the nerves I’d expected.
I thought about all the things I wanted to say. That I’d make sure no one ever hurt her again. That she wasn’t alone. That even if her ghosts followed her everywhere, she didn’t have to fight them by herself anymore.
But I didn’t say any of that. I just let the train rock us both to sleep.
Around midnight, Nadya shifted, rolled onto her back, and stared up at the ceiling. The slight movement might not have woken most people up, but I was trained to always be on guard, and now, in an unfamiliar place, it was cranked up to the max.
“You awake?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“I’m scared,” she said. No sarcasm, no defense. Just the simple fact of it.
“I’ll be right beside you the whole time,” I promised.
She reached up, fingers brushing mine where they dangled from the bunk. For a second, we just held hands, suspended in the dark.
The train sped through the night, each mile closing the distance between her past and whatever waited on the other side.
I held on and didn’t let go.