Page 85 of Safe and Sound

When I downed that bottle, I planned to continue until I couldn’t remember my name, least of all Ava’s.

Chapter Twenty: Ava

Although I’d originally planned to wait to call Nick, the four walls of the hotel room started closing in on me not long after I arrived. Of course, I didn’t have my phone, so he hadn’t answered my first couple of calls because he didn’t recognize the number. When he finally did, I could hardly speak through my sobs.

Barely an hour passed after I called him when a knock came at the door. After flinging it open, I dove into Nick’s waiting arms. As I sobbed uncontrollably, he rubbed wide circles across my back. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Without taking his arms away from me, Nick led us back inside the hotel room. After steering us over to the bed, he eased me down. “I can’t believe you got here so fast,” I remarked as I swiped my eyes on my sleeve.

“I think I broke every speed limit known to man.” He jerked a hand through his hair. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”

A shudder ran through me. “I couldn’t risk anyone hearing.”

Nick’s eyes bulged. “Okay. You’re really fucking scaring me.”

“You have to swear not to tell anyone. Not Mom and Dad or the girls.”

“Why?”

“For their protection.”

Fear etched over his handsome face. “What have you gotten into?” he questioned in a whisper.

“Something out of my worst nightmare,” I replied. And then I unloaded everything that had transpired tonight.

After I finished, Nick remained staring blankly at me. A moment or two passed before he wordlessly rose out of his chair and went to the mini-fridge. He downed two mini-vodkas before coming back to sit beside me.

“Christ, Ava,” he finally muttered.

“I know.”

“Dare is a member of the Irish mafia,” he stated.

“Yes.”

“And he kills and tortures people?”

“Yes.”

“I still can’t believe it.”

“I understand. I still can’t believe it myself, and I saw it with my own eyes.”

Staring ahead, Nick shook his head. “That easy-going jokester actually tortures people?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, I thought the same thing.”

“You’re dating a gangster.”

“Was,” I corrected.

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