Chapter 95 Nikki
I don’t notice where I am walking until I look up and spot the Serendin Atlas in front of me. How ironic that Bronson kicked me out and this is the first place I turn, the place that is currently trying to destroy him, destroying me along the way. I didn’t know where to go, I could have stayed on the streets or even strapped myself inside a rundown hotel until the morning where I would undoubtedly go over and try speaking with Bronson again.
The words he spewed at me come returning to the forefront of my mind and I cringe at his last statement about my parents. The pain registers from back when my aunt came out of her house in tears to explain to me and Brody that our parents were gone and never coming back. Since that moment, I have always wanted to make them proud. I wanted them to know that I was taking care of Brody and keeping us safe, but Bronson was right. I failed them. I haven’t kept us safe, neither of us have our high school diplomas, Brody is constantly high and I’m a f*cking thief for crying out loud.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I close my eyes and count to three, hoping the pain will reside like it always does. Burying it to the pit of my belly like I always do, I open my eyes and continue forward into the building.
If anything, I need to see if I can talk to Brody about this whole mess. If I can’t convince Bronson to protect himself, maybe I can convince Brody and Mick.
As I make my way up the stairs, I pull out my phone and send my tenth text message to Rand, angered that he still has not returned my calls or messages. The place is empty, I don’t see any of the other Bandits, nor Mick, Charles, or my brother.
Me: Rand, please pick up. Bronson knows everything, Anabe spoke with him. He kicked me out, I need you to call me.
I await the message to be responded but am let down once again and shut down my phone, hurrying up the stairs. I reach my old suite, pulling out my key and opening the door. The suite is the same as I left it. It’s bland furniture and basic carpet welcome me inside as I call out Brody’s name. Only to get silence in return.
He’s not home. And I don’t know if I should be elated or nervous. Rand isn’t answering, Bronson has kicked me out, and every one of us could be in a slew of trouble. Not exactly the night I was hoping to have.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and when I reach for it, nearly collapsing when I see a return message from Rand. I read it, then read it seven more times before I collapse onto the dirty tiled kitchen floor.
Rand: He’s safe for now, but I think it’s best you steer clear of here tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.
I turn off my phone, and I know that isn’t the smartest thing to do, but something I feel as though I should, and head right to my old room.
It feels strange being in here again, and although I’ve stayed here for nearly a year, it feels more foreign since I have shared a bed with Bronson. I miss him, I miss waking in his arms and feeling his deep breathing on my naked skin. I miss everything about our mornings and our talks. Knowing that he hates me now, that he despises everything about me, causes such turmoil to grow in my blood, I could vomit.
With nothing else left in me, I lay on the bed and fall into a restless sleep.
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