Page 8 of Nikolai (Kansas City Reapers)

I sat at the table cautiously, feeling the tension that lay thick in the room. This was easily one of the most awkward moments of my life.

“So…” I began, trailing off as I searched for something to say. The silence was deafening. “So, you all live here together?” I finished lamely.

“We do.” Nikolai sat down opposite me at the table with a huff as he answered.

“Like…togethertogether?” The words were out of my mouth before I could think better of it. Immediately, I felt the heat of a blush rise in my cheekbones. What a stupid thing to say! These men were taking me in when there was nowhere else safe for me to go — and I was sitting here, essentially accusing them of being gay together in some kind of polyamorous love fest?

Nice going, Maddy.

Laughter bubbled up from the kitchen as I lifted my head to see the large one — I really needed to learn their names — bent over in half, literally smacking his thigh as he roared with laughter.

Wiping his eyes, he choked out, “You think we’re all together? Like, romantically?”

“Well, sexually, at the very least. Doesn’t have to be romantic,” I muttered under my breath with a shrug, though not quietly enough as four pairs of eyes landed on me, the large one in the kitchen redoubling his guffaws.

“Ooh, a feisty one. I like her,” the big guy snorted with a shake of his head. I simply shrugged in response.

“To answer your question,” Nikolai began, “No, we are not all involved in any kind of sexual or romantic way.”

“But you all live together? The four of you?” I couldn’t help the look of suspicion that crossed my face, raising my eyebrow so high it might have gotten lost in my hairline somewhere.

“We do,” they all said in unison. I must have given them a look, because the thin one continued with an explanation.

“We all served together in the military for years and decided to set down roots here after we all left the business, as it were. Sully actually came up with the idea,” he explained, pointing towards the large man in the kitchen, preparing me food. Sully. I tried to commit the name to memory.

“And you are?” I asked. “Sorry, I’m terrible with names.”

“I’m Jax. I’m the tech wiz,” he said with a smirk.

“Sully! I cook things.” The large man called from the kitchen again, waving a spatula. I answered with a nod.

“And the grouchy one at the end there is Deacon,” Nikolai answered when the brooding man with arms crossed spoke no words. His face set in a scowl, he pushed back from the table, roughly enough the chair scraped abrasively against the floor as he stormed out of the room.

“Don’t mind Deacon. He’s a quiet one and he just needs a bit of time to process,” Jax muttered, leaning in towards me as he brushed his long hair back from his face with a hand.

Before I could respond, Sully had returned to the table with a plate for me. I stared at it for a moment as tears pricked at my eyes. Why the fuck was I getting teary-eyed over a grilled cheese sandwich and sliced apples? I hadn’t had it in years, but the pang of nostalgia hit me like an arrow straight through the chest. These men might be helping me in my hour of need, but this wasn’t home. This wasn’t my life.

I missed my parents. I missed my family. I missed my friends.

“Do you not like grilled cheese? I can make you something else. Anything you want, as long as we have the ingredients.” I looked up to see Sully looking down at me with anticipation in his eyes. The poor guy just wanted to be nice, and here I was, unintentionally refusing his kindness.

“No, I love it, actually. I just haven’t had it since I was a kid and…” I trailed off, not knowing how to admit to this group of virtual strangers that I was caught in a vulnerable moment of sentimentality. No, there was no way I could do that. Luckily, as I glanced from one man to the next, I saw a similar look pass over their faces. Understanding. In the silence of the moment, I knew that each of them understood exactly what I was feeling.

The realization should have been a relief, but it only filled me with discomfort as anxiety warred with the carefully crafted mask of neutrality I was barely hanging on to. My facade of indifference was wearing on me, and I felt as though I would burst at any moment. Once it did, the shock, panic, and fear would grip me once again, as it had almost every hour since I had walked down that wrong hallway.

I dug into the food before me, letting it fill my belly with something other than worry for the first time in twenty-four hours, if not more. Before I knew it, the food was gone, only crumbs remaining on the simple stoneware plate. When I lifted my eyes once more, I was met with the glittering glee that lit up Sully’s face. Looking to his left, I saw Nikolai standing at the high-top counter, his fingers lightly flipping through a black folder. A flash of an enlarged photo caught my attention for justlong enough to tell me exactly what it was he was looking at: my police file.

Suddenly the moment’s respite granted by the food that had just warmed my belly vanished like it had never been there at all.

Visions flew through my mind, one right after the other, like a vintage Rolodex on perma-spin mode.

My chest tightened sharply as I struggled to draw breath into my aching lungs. With my vision swirling, growing blurry, and dim, I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

Fingers dug in lightly and turned me until I sat sideways on the chair, facing a man I could not recognize in my visual haze.

Those same fingers touched my chin, lifting my frightened eyes to meet his steady ones.

“Breathe,” he said softly. I recognized the Russian accent before I could determine his face. Nikolai. “Deep breaths. In. Out. That’s it.”

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