Rip

Something was off with Jac tonight. I narrowed my eyes. “That’s enough.”

Her smile fell, replaced by what looked like anger, before she shrugged and stood. “We’re both tired, and the night still isn’t finished for me I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps it should be.” I never told Jac what to do, it wasn’t my place, but I knew her lifestyle wore on her—the secret of it wore on us both.

“I have a legacy to continue,” she said in a distant voice. “Perhaps you should start thinking about how you’ll continue yours… once I’m gone.”

“You’re not dying.” I rolled my eyes and kissed her hand.

“Not yet.” She pulled her hand back and reached for her jacket. “But I will be gone and soon. What will you do then, Nikolai?”

The question had my heart ramming against my chest. I didn’t know. I still hadn’t made my choice. I still wasn’t sure how I could fulfill my family’s legacy while still keeping my own  sanity intact. It seemed I was the sole heir that saw a difference between right and wrong, which was really sick when I thought about it. If I was the moral compass, what hope did my family really have to begin with? I shuddered inwardly.

“The choice will happen.” Jac gave a knowing nod. “And sooner than you think. Maybe a distraction is good.” She pointed toward the ceiling. “But something tells me she’s hands-off, am I right?”

“They always are.” I hired nursing students for three months tops, paid them, swore them to secrecy, and let them go. Maya wasn’t a nursing student, and I hadn’t hired her for the reasons I’d hired all the others. It was simply convenient that I could kill two birds with one stone.

“But she’s different, because you wish it wasn’t the case.”

“Goodnight, Jac.” I ignored her barb even though it still managed to sneak in between my ribs, hitting its mark quite well.

Dismissed, she gave a quick nod and walked toward the door. “Careful Nikolai, I’ve never lost you to something as silly as emotion before—and your colors, they’re showing.”

“I bleed like everyone else.”

Jac held open the door and called back. “More’s the pity.”

Once silence once again reigned in my apartment, I moved to my couch and looked around my apartment.

It was decorated in deep purples and blacks. I had a fascination with dark colors, maybe because it was the only thing that brought me comfort, knowing that the outside was just as dark as my insides.

It was the only peace I seemed to find.

White reminded me of what I didn’t have.

Purity, i

Her room was white for a reason.

It was a reminder.

Thou shall not touch.

Because if I did—she wouldn’t live past the first caress.

I refused to tempt fate twice.

And this time.

It would be my fault.

Police are still investigating the slew of murders taking place down in Pikes Market. Another woman’s body was found, her reproductive organs stripped from her body and on her face a hollow smile. Women are strongly encouraged to stay indoors at night.—The Seattle Tribune

SLEEP DIDN’T COME—THOUGH I PRAYED and begged for it every hour I woke up and saw the alarm clock glaring back at me.

My head hurt.

My brain hurt.

And after again ransacking the apartment for any sort of way to either escape or put a giant SOS on the window… I fell into a pit of despair. Because I knew, that in the end, I’d signed a contract, my dad had sold me. I didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

Plus, just like Nikolai said, who would actually believe me? They’d probably think I’d gone insane.

With a groan I flipped over on my side and finally managed to get out of bed. Nikolai said to report to work at eight, wearing black. I wasn’t sure if work meant in his offices or the one downtown, but I figured asking questions would just get him upset all over again.

He wasn’t what I had expected.

Sure, he was gorgeous, entitled, controlling, but every single thing that came out of his mouth was guarded. A part of me—the stupid part—was curious, while the rest of me wanted to push him off the highest balcony I could find.

The shower did wonders for my attitude, and when I went back into the closet to find an outfit, I admitted that he’d actually picked out some pretty ridiculously cool clothes for me. I settled on a black Diane Von Fustenburg wrap dress with some black heels and grabbed a gold chain from the nearby dresser.

I grabbed a wool coat, just in case it rained and I was somehow given leave to go outside for a break, and then went into the kitchen.

And froze.

“How was your evening?” Nikolai asked, scrambling eggs over the stove like it was the most natural thing in the world, for him to make me breakfast in my kitchen, another not-so-subtle reminder that he could enter and exit my life at will. Even my private space was not truly mine. I imagined it would never be, as long as he was in my life.

“Horrible,” I said honestly. “And I hate eggs.”

“Don’t lie.”

That was it. Just a “don’t lie,” and he continued tossing in chopped up peppers and cheese.

With a huff I sat on the bar stool and watched his muscles flex beneath his shirt as he moved around the kitchen. He looked good there, comfortable, not as haunted as he normally looked.

I knew I was being shameless in watching him, but it was impossible not to, the man was so beautiful that it was mentally frustrating.

Why did the beautiful ones have to be sociopaths?

His rich chocolate hair curled behind his ears, dark eyes focused on the food in front of him and his muscled body stretched and strained against the tight pale blue pinstripe shirt.

“Why are you here?” I asked, “Wasn’t I supposed to meet you?”

“Got hungry.” He shrugged.

“And every Starbucks within the vicinity was closed?” My eyebrows arched.

He chuckled.

A laugh escaped from between his lips.

I clenched my teeth together only because it was a nice laugh, warm like honey. Damn him.

“No.” He finally turned around, smile still in place. “I actually was thinking it would be good for us to have a chat before work.”

“A chat, huh?” I fidgeted in my seat.

“Yes.” His smile flashed again, and my knees went weak. I licked my lips and looked away.

“So chat.”

“Bossy.”

“Like you should talk,” I muttered.

“You look nice.” He pulled out a plate and served the eggs onto it then handed me a fork. “I like black on you.”

“Apparently you like black on people and white on walls.”

His smile froze. “Pardon?”

“Walls.” I pointed around me. “Everything you live in is pristine, white, makes a girl wonder if you hate getting dirty.”

His eyes darkened as he leaned forward and flicked his tongue across his lips. “Are you asking me if I like getting dirty?”

No. No I wasn’t. Because I was pretty sure we were talking about two different types of dirty, and I wasn’t at all prepared for his answer, not with the way he was looking at me like he could devour me in an instant.

“Um…” I shoveled a forkful of egg into my mouth and nodded. “Good eggs.”

His expression changed from predatory to i

Were we actually having a normal non-creepy conversation? I cleared my throat and continued eating so I wouldn’t ruin it by talking.

“Yesterday…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He did that a lot, almost like he used his hair for his power when he had to talk about things he didn’t want to talk about. “It was a hard day…”

“Can I ask why?”