"William," the blond man greeted. His voice was rough and rugged. Polite, controlled. He didn’t raise his voice over the night air, he spoke like a man used to the world bending closer to hear what he had to say. Every syllable dripping from his lips was a luxury.
"Nicholas," Vicky’s bodyguard replied before walking forward. The two men embraced. The hug looked forced but still comfortable, as if they’d practiced the move at political events to prove something.
William? William?! Vicky’s bodyguard’s name was William?
I blinked a couple times while rolling the name around in my mind. My secret stranger, my fly on the wall, the man who knew everything about me by association had a name. Knowing this and hearing his voice all in one night made him feel more real.
I couldn’t really bask in the realization of this, because they started mumbling something to one another, then turned to look at me. Waves of terror hit me like a thunderbolt.
"Vicky. You sure do know how to stir up trouble," the blond man—Nicholas—said. My best friend cleared her throat at his words.
She replied wryly, "Nicholas, you sure know how to be a giant pain in my ass." He looked amused for a split second, but his expression morphed into controlled anger. Vicky then looked around at the line of cars parked around us and sighed. "Did you seriously need to bring the entire caravan for this?"
Her question was met with an annoyed huff. "I just wanted to make sure you weren’t running away from your responsibilities," he replied coolly. "Show me who you have hiding behind your back."
"No." Vicky’s response was swift, forceful, and full of venom. "Not happening, Nicholas."
He bit the inside of his cheek and glared. Apparently, this blond man was not used to being defied. I peeked at him from behind Vicky, and his unnaturally bright eyes flamed with anger. "I think you forget who is in charge here," he said, punctuating each word with fierce power.
"I think you forget that you’re my brother and not some prison warden." Brother? They were related? After spending the last three years in this odd friendship limbo where I wasn’t allowed to know anything about Vicky’s private life, it was such a strange sensation to now be meeting her brother. Staring at him, I saw hints of their similar traits. Their sharp nose. His fierce eyes and long legs. But if they were family, why was Vicky trembling? She turned to look at her bodyguard—William—and shook her head. "And you? Sometimes, I think you care about me. Other times, I wonder how on earth we’re related. I thought you cared too, William. Don’t lie and tell me you don’t."
I was so confused but too frightened to do or say anything. I chewed on my lip as they exchanged a silent standoff. I wanted to see if the people in the diner were watching or if they’d turned their attention elsewhere. Everyone knew not to mess with the mob. Even if I’d never interacted with them outside of my visits with Vicky, I knew to keep to myself. If you see something, say nothing. I didn’t survive in the bad part of town by putting my nose in other people’s business. It’s why Vicky trusted me so much.
My cheap phone started to ring. The shrill sound broke through the ominous silence, and I cursed. There was only one person who would be calling me right now. Grams.
I felt everyone’s attention on me, and Nicholas grinned. "Are you going to answer that?"
I swallowed. I had a brief moment to think over my options. As bravely as I could, I quipped, "I didn’t want to offend you."
William’s eye twitched. Vicky wrapped her body tighter against mine. My phone continued to scream into the night air. "Please, be my guest," Nicholas replied maliciously. This felt like a trick that I wanted no part of.
But still...
Perhaps it was because of my mother’s disappearance that I struggled to ignore my grandmother’s phone calls. I never wanted my Grams to wonder or worry if I was okay. Not knowing what happened to Mom meant that we were forced to perpetually worry about her for the rest of our lives. I needed to work on it, but it made me anxious to not answer. Besides, if I was about to die, then I wanted to talk to my Grams first. I pulled my cell with the cracked screen out of my bra and quickly answered it.
"Hey, Grams. You okay?"
"Juliet, is that you?"
"Yes, Grams, it’s me. Are you okay?" I stared at the pavement but heard footsteps walking toward me.
"I-I can't remember when...you’re coming home. I was worried."
Grams’s voice was worn and full of concern. She was the type of woman to call before a thunderstorm to make sure you stayed inside. And if you didn’t call her to let her know that you arrived at your destination, she’d give you a stern talking-to.
"I’m okay, Grams. Just working late. You didn’t have to stay awake. Why don’t you go to sleep, and I’ll…"
Nicholas looked menacing as he marched closer to Vicky and me. I instinctively knew my call would be cut short the moment he got to his destination.
"I’m going to make us breakfast. I know waffles are your favorite. But I can’t find the syrup. And someone took all the knobs off my stovetop," Grams complained, oblivious to the chaos I was smack dab in the middle of. I wanted to tell not to worry about me.
My mouth cracked into a manic smile. What the fuck was happening? "I’ll cook you waffles as soon as I get home, okay? I’ve got a customer. Call you later. Love you."
"L-love you too."
I hung up and let out a shaky exhale. "Sorry," I said softly before bracing myself for what was to come.
"Who are you?" Nicholas asked.
"None of your motherfucking business," Vicky snapped before letting go of me to get in her brother’s face. "Why do you have to fucking ruin everything? You come here with your army of thugs and try to scare my friends. Not everyone is the enemy, Nick!" she screamed. I went rigid from the tension.
Nicholas cracked his knuckles slowly. One by one—crack, crack, crack. The sound made me tremble. It was so meticulous and calm, with a frightening edge to every movement. Then, with a move so swift I almost missed it, he quickly backhanded my best friend. Neither of us had time to even process what just happened. It was brutal and quick. She fell down and hit her forehead against the hard concrete.
"What the fuck?" I hissed in a whisper before crouching beside her to make sure she was alright. In an instant, Vicky shot up to a sitting position, and like a seasoned badass, she wiped at the blood on her face and glared at him.
Hands threaded through my hair, and I was yanked off the ground before I could even check on Vicky. My scalp burned, and I was pulled tight against Nicholas’s body. "Who is this?" Nicholas asked William.
"Just a waitress," William lied.
"Just a waitress? Oh, well, in that case." With his free hand, Nicholas pulled a glock that was strapped to his side and pressed the barrel against my cheek. The cool metal of the gun bruised my skin, and I cried out. The grip he had on my hair didn’t waiver. I squeezed my eyes shut and whimpered, too frozen from fear to do anything. "You don’t care if I kill the bitch then, right?"
"Please stop, Nicholas," Vicky choked out. I opened my eyes and stared at the three of them, not sure what to say or what even was the problem. I always thought Vicky was keeping me a secret because of her enemies, but I had no idea she was related to a monster. "She’s my friend, Nick," she admitted, this time her tone soft and familiar.