36. Kat

Chapter 36

Kat

I stare at Nik, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Eyes on the road,” he snaps. I don’t even think—I just do it, hands tightening on the wheel.

My thoughts are a mess, tangled and racing, and my pulse feels like it’s trying to burst out of my throat. This man—this wild, absolutely unhinged, ridiculously hot man—will be the death of me. And yet, if I somehow survive him, I doubt I’ll even recognize who I am anymore. Because, so help me God, I can’t deny it: when Nik stared into my eyes and calmly threatened to kill anyone who dared to touch me, I wasn’t scared.

I was thrilled .

Not terrified. Not worried.

Thrilled .

Real bullets are flying. Angry mobsters are hunting us down. And all I can think about is jumping into Nik’s arms and begging him to ruin me so completely I forget my own name.

“Kat, pull into that driveway,” Nik says suddenly, pointing to a narrow turnoff on the right. His voice is clipped, urgent. “Now. Before they come around the bend.”

I cut the wheel and swerve into the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as I slow the car. “Why are we stopping?” I ask, glancing at him.

“Out,” he says, already throwing his door open.

“What—?” I barely have time to blink before he’s yanking open my door and dragging me out like I weigh nothing.

“Nik—what are you doing?” I stammer, but he’s not listening. Vladmir is already sliding into my seat, slamming the door behind him.

The engine growls to life, and I gape. “Why is Vlad?—”

“They’ll follow the car,” Nik cuts me off, his grip firm as he pulls me into the shadows lining the driveway. His voice is low, calm—but charged with an edge that sends a shiver down my spine. “Not us. Now stay close.”

I stare at the car as it speeds off, still trying to process what’s happening. I look up at Nik, my confusion spilling out. “What are we even doing here?”

“Hiding,” he says simply, tugging me toward the house ahead. His eyes dart around, scanning the quiet street and windows. “Good. Nobody’s home,” he murmurs, more to himself than me, as he leads me to the backyard, tucking us out of sight.

“And now what?” I ask, my patience wearing thin.

“Now, we wait,” Nik replies, leaning casually against the wall like we’re not on the run from armed men.

“Wait for what?” I snap. “Why are we even here? And where the hell did Vladmir go?”

Nik’s gaze flicks back to me, steady and unbothered. “This was the first safe spot I saw. Vladmir’s leading McGuire’s men away from us.”

“Why?” I press, crossing my arms.

“They were too close. I didn’t want them catching up to us with you in the car. And to be honest…” He hesitates, then smirks faintly. "I wasn’t sure how much longer you’d hold it together before you wrapped us around a tree.”

I gape at him, offended. “Well, excuse me for not being calm, cool, and collected while bullets were flying past my head! This might be just another day in the office for you, Nik, but newsflash—it’s not for me.”

Nik lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Kat, I didn’t mean it like that. You did great—better than most people would’ve in that situation. I just…” His voice softens, and something raw flickers in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. I promised I would, and you shouldn’t have been in danger to begin with. That’s on me. I’m sorry—more than I can say.”

“Oh, please.” I wave a dismissive hand. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” he says with a small, reluctant smile. “You did get us that getaway car, after all.”

“You’re damn right I did,” I snap, crossing my arms, letting just a sliver of pride slip through. “And for the record, I had the driving thing under control. If you hadn’t distracted me with your caveman act of jealousy, we’d have been fine.”

“My what ?” Nik arches a brow, confused. “Oh, you mean Vlad’s hand. Kat, about that?—”

“No, you listen to me,” I cut him off, jabbing a finger at his chest. “I know you think I’m some helpless damsel in distress?—”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I most certainly do not.”

“Bullshit. You do,” I insist, glaring at him. “Don’t lie. But let me tell you something, Nik. I’ve been managing just fine for twenty-six years without your condescending, overbearing, overprotective ass.”

He groans, dragging a hand over his face. “For fuck's sake, will you just?—”

“Save it,” I interrupt again, cutting him off with a glare. “If anyone saved anyone tonight, it was me saving you . Your stupidly tempting, infuriatingly hot, looks-too-good-in-black-jeans ass.”

His lips twitch, a reluctant smile breaking through his frustration. With a deep sigh, he steps closer, his hands reaching for me. “Come here,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

I try to resist, but he’s insistent, pulling me into his arms. Before I can muster another argument, his lips brush against my temple, then my cheek, then my jaw. Soft and warm at first, but soon, the kisses grow deeper, his hands trailing down my back as he holds me close.

“Nik,” I manage to whisper, desperate and frustrated. “Please…”

He chuckles, his breath hot against my skin. “What do you need, kiska ?” His tone is teasing, maddeningly calm.

“You,” I say, my voice trembling with frustration. “In me. Now .”

His laughter rumbles in his chest, and he pulls back just enough to look into my eyes. “Behind some random house? While we’re on the run from McGuire?” he asks, his lips twitching in amusement. “I don’t think so.”

“Nik—”

He shakes his head, his expression softening but still resolute. “No, Kat. Next time I have you, we’re doing it right. At last.”

“But I want you. Right here, right now.”

His eyes glint with amusement, turning that devastating shade of golden brown that could melt steel. A soft laugh escapes him, part sigh, part chuckle. “Ah, kiska …”

“What?” I press, frowning at his reaction.

“My world’s crashing around us. We might not live to see tomorrow. All my plans for McGuire might go up in smoke…” He pauses, his lips curving into that rare, gigawatt smile I’ve only seen once—when we stepped off that little airplane. “But you? You just made my day.”

Before I can respond, he pulls me against his chest. His arms circle me tightly, and I let out a quiet sigh, my cheek resting over his heart. The steady rhythm grounds me in a way I don’t want to think too hard about.

After a moment, curiosity gets the better of me. “What does kiska mean?”

“Don’t bother asking,” he says with a smirk. “I’m not telling you.”

“Whatever.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “I’ll just look it up later.”

He shakes his head, that smile lingering. “Maybe giving you your phone back was a mistake.”

“Oh, it’s that bad, huh?” I tease, grinning up at him. “Must be something juicy.”

Instead of answering, he leans down and presses a kiss to my lips. It’s soft, lingering, and does nothing to help the heat pooling in my stomach.

Eventually, I pull back just enough to study his face. He gazes back at me, and the look in his eyes is so achingly familiar now—so warm and consuming—that it’s hard to reconcile the man who’s holding me so tenderly with the man who just broke someone’s hand for me.

“You broke Vladmir’s hand. For me,” I say quietly.

His expression shifts as he studies me, his eyes sharp, waiting. “I did,” he says simply, his tone careful, like he’s measuring every word.

He doesn’t look away, watching me intently, searching for a reaction. Something flickers across his face when he catches it, a mix of surprise and realization. His brows lift slightly as understanding dawns, followed quickly by something deeper—amazement. He holds his breath, waiting for what I’ll say next.

I let a small smile tug at my lips, pat his chest, and nod. “Good job.”

His amusement shifts as his gaze locks onto mine, darkening with an intensity that makes my breath catch. His fingers slide into my hair, gripping tight as he pulls me closer, fast and rough. “Kat…” he whispers, my name barely more than a breath.

I wrap my arms around his neck, closing the gap between us without hesitation. Our mouths crash together, and there’s no slow build-up—our tongues meet in a collision that’s all hunger and heat. He holds me tighter, pulling me against him like he can’t get close enough.

But when I push harder, desperate for more, he slows us down, pacing me deliberately, a reminder of his promise to wait. The restraint makes me want to scream.My frustration spikes, and I’m about to demand he forget whatever noble streak he’s clinging to when the universe intervenes.

“We’ve got company,” he murmurs, breaking the kiss as headlights cut through the dark driveway.

He sighs, holding me close for a beat longer, his forehead pressed to mine like he’s reluctant to let go. Then, with a deep breath, he steps back, his hand sliding into mine as we both turn toward the approaching car.