Chapter 92 Nikki

“And he cornered you at your work?” Rand asks. I can sense his anger growing as I retell him the story of what transpired at work the other day. I haven’t been back home, haven’t spoken to Bronson, all I can think of in this moment, is solving our major issue at hand.

Alexander Anabe.

He is the reason I am here, in front of Rand at this moment.

“Yes.”

“Sh*t” He mutters then begins pacing. His wife, bless her heart, is actually quite calm. She hums a beautiful tone as she waters a few plants around the home. She’s offered me lemonade and fresh homemade peanut butter cookies. I think if I weren’t so worried about Bronson and what Anabe’s threat could potentially mean, I would laugh at just how different she is than her husband.

“We have to tell Bronson, Rand. We have to let him know what’s going on. We cannot wait any longer.”

“We need time Nikki. If we tell him now, he could very well still be in danger. Bronson will react in ranger and fear, and do something stupid, like go after the Bandits for involving you. I’m speaking with an ex-military partner of mine that is now in the FBI, if he could allow the local precinct to bring in Mick on unrelated charges, we may get something out of him.”

So that was what he was working on each time he has asked me to give him time, to give him patience. “Rand, it isn’t that simple anymore. I know Mick and I’m guessing he doesn’t know that Anabe came to see me. Anabe didn’t want anything, he just wanted to flaunt what he plans on doing. This is going down sooner than we want, we can’t wait.”

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Rand pauses and asks as I look down. I don’t miss how his wife’s steps falter a bit then resumes as she flutters round the kitchen, cleaning. Maybe she’s more like her husband than I thought.

“Brody.”

“Your brother?”

“When he came by the office, he threatened Bronson.”

“What?” I stand, ready to defend my brother. The chair squeals behind me as the legs slide across the kitchen laminate flooring.

“Before you overreact, I didn’t know he was coming to visit me and I took him across the street and behind a building. No one saw us.”

“That you know of.” He had a point, if Anabe was there, waiting for me to walk into the office, he could have easily seen Brody and me walking across the street. “And you trust your brother was just high? Or bluffing because he was pissed off?”

Did I? Did I trust Brody not to make good on his threats to Bronson? It wouldn’t be the first time he just uses his mouth without backing it with actions, but could I take the chance? No. Bronson’s life wasn’t worth the risk. I shrug, answering Rand’s question.

Rand thinks long and hard as he studies my face. I know I haven’t always shown my trust with him and especially now that he knows about my original true intensions of being here. It feels like its years before he finally speaks again.

“Alright Nik, let’s tell Bronson. But we do this my way.

“Okay, and what way would that be.”

“The correct way.” He states then marches over and grabs his phone form another room. He comes back seconds later, placing it down along with a laptop. A few keystrokes later, I am starring at Alexander Anabe through photo after photo of him. “This the guy?”

“Yes.” I nod hating his arrogant face in photos. “He told me that they were making a move without me and then he wished me luck.”

“I need you to tell me what you think Mick and Charles would have planned with your brother.” Turning the laptop back towards him he begins typing at lightning speed while I stare at his knuckles. The gold band covering his ring finger seems oddly placed.

“I don’t think Brody would be a part of something that could potentially get me hurt.”

“But you said he saw you the same day as Anabe?”

“Yes, but Brody was off the deep end. If they are going to have him apart of anything, I’m certain they’ve lied to him about what is meant to go down.” It’s obvious Brody was sprung out, but more than that Brody thinks Bronson is hurting me, abusing me and brainwashing me. No doubt he’s gone to Mick to speed things along, but he most likely doesn’t know that Mick couldn’t care less if I’m alive at the end of it all.

“And you’re sure about that?”

“Look, Rand, he’s my brother and I get that you don’t have to trust him but I do and–“

“Sh*t.” He shouts, standing up abruptly. Molly comes over and stands beside him while I stand and look at the laptop with curiosity. Rand had pulled up what looks like a video of Bronson’s home.

It should be left quiet, the only one inside would be Nadia, cooking and cleaning. Instead, Bronson sits at the breakfast bar, a large bottle of scotch directly in front of him. He looks worse for wear, his hair is dishelmed, his clothing wrinkled and his eyes downs casted so much so, that I cannot see them. The place is a mess, all the furniture has been destroyed, the dishes are broken in pieces behind him, and nothing makes sense.

“Rand?” I ask looking at him but his eyes are already on mine.

“Go, Nikki. Go to him. Something’s wrong.”