Chapter 58 Nikki
My eyes blink open from the harsh sun pouring through the window. I try rolling over, trying to allow sleep to cover my unconscious once more, only to blink a few times at the small folded card laying gently beside my bed on the nightstand.
Sitting up, I look around my room then rub my eyes, grabbing the card before plopping back down on the bed. Opening the card, I reread the words over and over again, not allowing them to immediately sink in.
-I’m sorry Nicole. You deserve better.
Hating he tears that have already begun threatening to reappear form last night, I close the card and put in inside the small drawer of the nightstand attempting to keep it away from my lingering thoughts of all things Bronson.
I didn’t think I would be able to sleep last night, not after everything that happened the moment I left the park after Brody shut himself off from me.
Images from last night come rushing through my head at an alarming rate. I had begun walking back home to the penthouse when a car pulled up beside me. I panicked figured it was Mick and he had somehow found out through Brody that I no longer wanted to be a part of the plan to destroy Bronson Fortworth.
I was both pleasantly and unexpectedly surprised, when the car’s window rolled down to reveal Rand sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Get in.” He told me and knowing where I happen to be coming from not moments before, I knew I was caught.
So, I got into his car, watched him with dread as he drove us not towards the penthouse, but in the opposite direction.
We stopped not ten minutes later at one of those all-night coffee shops, filled with a small amount of people studying their laptops and others simply chatting along the walls of the outside the building. Rand walked in as if he owned the place and ordered two black coffees, then sat down at a private table for two.
I had no idea what to think, so I simply followed his lead and sat across from him, taking my coffee and taking a long sip. Of the time I was with Bronson during the trip, he always let me know I was able to buy anything my heart desired, but I never felt comfortable enough spending money that I had not earned. Or stolen. I never so much as bought a coffee unless he did it for me.
So why Rand knew the way I took my coffee and was pretending like this was a normal Sunday evening while we sip coffee like some preppy college kids, was beyond me.
“Want to tell me what you were doing speaking with the people that supposedly beat you to a pulp then kicked you out of their crime family?” He asked and the woman’s face across from us studying her laptop so profusely tensed and looked up at us with wondering eyes. Rand ignored her, I tried to do the same, but ended up saying some sarcastic note about the police never finding the body.
She left not two seconds later, emptying her empty coffee cup in the nearby trash before exiting the coffee shop.
“Nikki?” Rand was serious. So, with no other option and things getting dangerously close to Bronson, who was angry as I was, didn’t deserve what was about to happen to him, I told Rand everything.
And then hours later, I was dropped off at the penthouse with Rand promising me that he was going to make sure everything worked out. I wouldn’t tell Bronson, and neither would he. Not unless his life depended on it.
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