Page 42 of Sardonic Burn

Why am I in my room? I vividly remember talking to Cecilia, hanging up, and then spending the next hour or two thinking about possible solutions, theories, and best ways to handle the information I’ll discover soon.

I throw the blanket off me, and I see that I’m still wearing my clothes from last night. I’ve never sleepwalked, and I doubtI started at this age, especially last night with Hudson in my kitchen.

Hudson.

With the realization hitting me like a brick, I sprint barefoot down the stairs, tripping twice since I’m still too damn sleepy to function properly.

He’s not there.

The bloodied cloths and the pillow are still as they were last night, but Hudson is nowhere in sight. Is he pissed that I saved him, or is he embarrassed and his ego took a massive hit?

“Fuck,” I cuss and toss the dirty cloths and pillow in the trash can. The bullets Cecilia removed were on the countertop, but now they’re gone. He took them and fucking bolted.

It takes me fifteen minutes to find my phone. I had it on me in the information room, but it was magically transferred to the bedside table in my bedroom. My cheeks flush, and I’m embarrassed at the thought of Hudson seeing all his information on display like that.

I must’ve looked like a stalker.

Hudson’s ignoring my phone calls. I don’t text him because I want to scream at him to give me back the bullets so I can find something. Granted, the bullets were in his body, and I understand why he’d want to take them. But leaving in the late hours of the night without even telling me?

And all of that after he carried me to bed.

What did I even expect? There’s a reason the De Santis family is known as the serpents. I shouldn’t be surprised by his sneaky tricks, yet I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

I wanted to figure out who made those bullets.

With a sigh, I call Lucas and arrange a meeting with him. Luckily, he has some information for me, though he doesn’t want to tell me over the phone. Chills of excitement rush through my body, and a grin appears on my face.

After one of the longest and best showers I’ve had in a while, I dry my hair and curl the ends slightly. We’re meeting in a bar, and I want to look at least presentable enough.

By the time I’m dressed and ready to leave, it’s past six in the evening. It’s getting darker and darker outside with each passing hour. It’s cold, and I can’t wait for winter to be over.

The cold weather never appealed to me much.

I swing the door open, then take a step back in surprise. I’m gripping the door handle, my jaw clenched. It takes a lot of breathing to calm myself down and not to take the nearest sharp thing I can find and stab him to death.

“What do you want?”

“Can I come in?”

“No. I’m on my way out, and I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Nikolas tries pleading with his eyes, but it doesn’t work. I tilt my head to the side with a raised brow, and he understands that I’m not in the mood to play around with him.

“Please. Ten minutes.”

With a sigh, I step to the side and allow him inside. He’s quick to slide out of his shoes and grab a beer from my fridge. For someone who supposedly has business with me, he sure is taking his sweet time getting to the point.

He notices the blood stains I didn’t manage to take out of the wooden table and probably noticed the stained wall in the hallway, too.

“What happened here?”

“I tortured for information,” I reply dryly. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to apologize.”

I nod. “I don’t accept your apology.”

Niko sighs in disappointment, his head hanging low. I look at him properly, and, for the first time, he seems…off.

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