4. Nikolai

Chapter 4

Nikolai

She was a pill, this Madison Ayers girl who had become our houseguest yesterday. I'd known it would be difficult to bring a stranger in and give her protection under the current circumstances — both hers and our own — but I had no idea just how difficult it would be. She was headstrong and feisty, especially if what Deacon had to say about their chat last night was at all true.

"Niko, we really need to sit her down and get her story again. I want to see if there's any new information I can give to Quinn." Jax's words rang true as he sat, typing away on what looked to be ten computers all at one time. In truth, I had no idea how Jax did what he did. The room was full of so many gadgets, monitors, and screens that I couldn't even begin to make heads or tails of it. But it was his inner sanctum, and he used his powers to keep us safe, so I was all for it.

Each of us had our specialties; Sully's was heavy weapons and explosives, Carrick's was undercover work, Deacon had his… skills, and Jax's was computers. He was a whiz, truth be told; a true savant of his time. For me, it was about leadership and decision-making. I was good at it. So good at it, in fact, that the military had offered to push me up the ladder and boost my career. But that wasn't what I wanted. Not after… Well, I didn't need to think about all the reasons why I chose to get out of the military.

"Niko?" Jax's voice pulled me from my musings. I shook my head to clear it, patting him on the shoulder.

"Yes, sorry. Why don't you go tell her to come down here, and we can begin," I muttered, still working to put the demons of my past back into their mental cage, kept deep in the recesses of my mind.

"No way, dude. You do the talking, I do the click-clacks and hacky-hacks. That's how this works." Jax chuckled, sitting back in his computer chair as it reclined.

"I could do it! I could bake her a nice little treat, maybe some brownies. Chocolate always makes a hard situation better," Sully piped up from the corner where I hadn't even realized he was sitting. How I could miss a brute of a man like Sullivan Ward I did not know, but I most definitely had.

"This is not the time for treats, Sully. Plus, we need to talk to her now, not in half an hour when brownies are done." I knew I was being petulant, but I wasn't looking forward to confronting Ms. Sass again. It brought out a side of me that I couldn't allow. Not right now.

"My God, man. The fact that you think brownies take a mere thirty minutes to prepare and bake tells me so much," he grumbled in shock.

"Seems to me they take about that long, yeah. Mix the contents of the box with a few things, throw it all in the oven… pretty quick and simple, if you ask me." Deacon's slow Southern drawl sounded from the doorway to Jax's cave, his mischievous grin splitting his face.

"Deacon, please go tell Maddy to come down here. We need to go over her statement again, now that she's freshly rested. If we're lucky, we'll be able to discern more information that's tucked away in that memory of hers," I instructed with a snap of my fingers.

"First, don't snap at me. And second, I met my word quota for the week, talking to her last night. It's in my contract that I only have to have one conversation per week with women."

"Jesus Christ, can none of you stand up to her? She's a woman. A tiny young woman who we need to speak to, and —"

"I'll have you know I can pack quite a punch for such a — how did you word it? Oh yes, a tiny young woman. To think, the lot of you are all scared of someone like me… I guess that's the telling thing, now isn't it?" Maddy's voice rang from the doorway that Deacon had vacated to allow her entry — that smug smirk plastered on his face so perfectly it took everything in me not to punch it off him. Smug bastard.

"Ms. Ayers, good morning!" I greeted her with only a partially forced smile.

"Please, do not call me that," she groaned. "Maddy. Just call me Maddy." She walked into the room, skirting around where Deacon stood. Her eyes scanned the room, more than a little awe written on her face as she took in the countless monitors, whiteboards, and books that lined the entire room.

"Jesus, what is this place? It looks like a tornado hit a Radio Shack and it all landed here!"

"Welcome to my tech cave!" Jax announced, his arms flung wide as he showed off his most prized possession — or one of his major prized possessions, at the very least.

"What is it all for?" she asked with a look of either disdain or confusion. I could not tell which.

"Jax handles all of our technology needs. This is where he does all his tippy-tappy computer shit. I don't get it, but he's a genius." Sully's deep voice echoed in the room, followed by a bassy chuckle.

"Ms. Ayers—er, Maddy, would you have a seat? We need to go over your statement now." I pulled a chair out beside me, allowing her to sit comfortably. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation, but it must be done.

"I really don't know what more I could say that I haven't already told the police." Her defensiveness was palpable, from the way her lips set into a scowl and her arms crossed over her chest.

"The mind is such a powerful, enigmatic thing. It's incredible, really. But when one goes through trauma, the brain often shields itself from certain memories and events as a form of protection. Through specific lines of questioning, and with time, the truth does come out. You'd be surprised at what kind of information you will remember today, versus a couple of days ago at the station." Jax's peculiar way of speaking so matter-of-factly, and with unerring intelligence, was still a bit unnerving to me, even after all these years. But he was right.

"Let's start at the beginning. Where were you this past Friday evening?" I asked, clearing my throat before speaking.

"I was at Desire, a club downtown, with my friends."

"What time did you arrive?"

"Around ten-thirty, I think? We had come from this bar called Juniper. Well... I guess it was just me and Jess at first. The rest of my group did not come until a little later." Her brow furrowed as she thought back to that night. I did not miss the way her body language was already changing. Her arms tightened around herself, but at least she was answering my questions.

"Was there a reason for them being late?" Jax asked from behind me, his fingers typing furiously on his keyboard, eyes focused like lasers on his screen.

"Kerri was being a bitch that night and got caught up talking to some guy at Juniper. Most of our group stayed with her while Jess and I headed to Desire."

"About how long was it until your entire group joined you at Desire?" I asked her, jotting down her answers on the pad of paper I had sitting on the desk. I preferred the tried-and-true pen and paper, unlike the rest of my colleagues.

"I don't know honestly…" she trailed off for a moment. "Maybe half an hour? Maybe twenty minutes? Something like that."

"What happened when you arrived at Desire? Walk me through it step by step," I urged her as gently as I could. She was a skittish thing, and I didn't need the wrong tone or the wrong question to push her walls back up.

"I got there first, as usual. Jess showed up after a few minutes, and then we both waited in line for twenty or thirty minutes, like I said. When Kerri and the others—"

"Who else came with Kerri? What were their names?" I interrupted her gently.

"Lily and Melissa, Kerri's shadows. They go wherever she goes. If she's running late, you'd better believe they will be too." Maddy's words were derisive, but her small, rueful smile told me that her words were only partially sincere. She seemed to like this group of friends.

"Go on," I encouraged her. "What happened after they all got there?"

"Kerri got us all in through the front door right away. That girl is too good to wait in lines, apparently. That, or the bouncer was a sucker for a nice pair of tits. Either way, we got inside and headed to the bar to order drinks." She continued, her eyes staring into the middle distance as she recalled the events of the evening.

"Ooh, what drink did you get?" Sully asked. It may have seemed like a silly question, but I knew what he was doing. He was lightening the mood with a little levity, allowing her a breather as we traversed down this path.

"I ordered a martini." The little smirk playing at the corners of her lips told me Sully's attempt was working.

"Something fruity and yummy?" Sully asked with mirth lighting up his eyes.

"No way. Not that night. I love a good fruity drink. Honestly, it's usually my go-to, but I was dealing with a lot that night. I wanted something with bite. So, I ordered a dirty martini, nice and smooth," she explained.

"What happened after you all got your drinks? Did anyone speak to you?" I asked, pulling us back on track.

"Not that I can think of. Well… wait." I watched as her eyes darted back and forth, her mind scouring over her memory of that night. "There were a few guys who approached us, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary."

"It could be. Do you remember anything they said that felt off?" I asked, curious to see if there was a connection.

"No, it was the standard lame pickup lines. You know the ones. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Or my favorite one from the night. Have we met before? Because you look like my next girlfriend. " Her nose scrunched up with distaste just as Sully's roar of laughter filled the room.

"You look like my next girlfriend. That's hilarious." Sully slapped his knee, shaking his head.

"It's lame, that's what it is," she grumbled. "But no, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay, what happened next?" I asked, jotting down a few things on my pad of paper. So far, there was nothing in her story that seemed out of place. And while there were a few added details, she hadn't mentioned anything of note thus far. Though having read her report at least a dozen times since Quinn had sent it over, I knew the hard part was yet to come.

"We went out onto the floor all together and started dancing. We stayed out there for a while, ignoring any guys who dared to bother us. I think one of the girls must have talked to Kerri before they arrived, because her attitude was at least a bit better. It was fun, actually. It got my mind off of—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes growing sad and her mouth drawing into a thin, tight line.

"Off of what?" I urged her gently.

"My ex. He broke up with me. Well, I broke up with him , after I walked in on him and some bimbo named Lacey." The disgust and anger lacing her every word cut through me like a knife. I knew that pain all too well. I couldn't help but feel for the girl.

None of us uttered a word, allowing her to compose herself for a moment before she continued.

"Anyway, we danced for a while, and it took my mind off of things until someone bumped into me from behind," she continued after a moment. I sat up straighter, intrigued by what happened next. This part was not in her police report.

"I turned around to see none other than Bryce, the bitch-boy himself. And of course, Lacey, dripping off of him like a fucking slut, and smelling of cheap perfume." She spoke through clenched teeth, almost as a hiss as she spoke. I knew very well that she wasn't able to smell the girl's perfume, especially in a nightclub like Desire, but it didn't matter. The point remained.

"What happened when you turned and saw them?" Deacon's voice surprised me, even more so the way he had stayed in the room. Deacon was one of the most incredible men I'd ever met, but he wasn't one for this part of the process. He wasn't exactly personable at the best of times, and after all he'd been through, his patience was something he safeguarded at all costs. His temper was not one to be reckoned with.

"He tried to talk to me, tried to explain, I guess. But I didn't want to hear a word he said. Jess pulled me away from him before I did something stupid, and we all headed back to the bar, and…" she trailed off once more. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and pushed through. "I got emotional about it and made an excuse to my friends about needing to find the restroom. Jess offered to go with me, but I honestly just needed a moment alone. I asked the bartender where the restroom was, and I headed towards the back of the club."

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Deacon finally slipped out of the room. I figured that would happen at some point.

"The bathroom was down the back stairs and in a hallway. I don't really know what happened, but it was dark as fuck, and my emotions got the best of me." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I felt like the walls were closing in and I found an exit — a door — and pushed my way through it. I didn't really know what I was doing, but I was outside. In an alley by the club. I lost it. Screaming, crying. I don't even remember it all."

"In the alley, do you remember what you saw?" I asked, leaning forward in my seat.

"Nothing much. A big dumpster, brick and concrete walls, clutter on the ground. It was hard to see through the fog, honestly."

"What about signs? Lights?"

"Nothing comes to mind. Though… I remember seeing purple." Her brow furrowed as she struggled to remember.

"Purple?" I asked, utterly confused at this point.

"Yeah. Like a purplish color. From a neon sign or something." It must have been from one of the club signs at the end of the alleyway. I'd been down that way once or twice when visiting a local club I frequented a few times after we first moved here. It wasn't for me, but I remember the area decently well still.

"What happened once you were there in the alley?" I prodded, pulling the pad of paper to my lap. Notes would be necessary from this point on. I was certain of it.

"I cried for a bit, judge me if you will." Her bristly attitude was understandable, and I paid it no heed. "After a few minutes, I decided I wasn't going to let Bryce get the better of me. He couldn't force me out of the club. So I searched for the door back into the club and pushed it open."

"Was the door the same door as before?" I asked her, my brow furrowing as I followed her story.

"I mean, I know now that it wasn't. But at the time, I didn't realize it. Come to think of it, the door I left out of the club was one of those with the push bars across the middle. You know?"

I simply nodded my understanding.

"Yeah, well, the door I went back through was a pull door. Like, it had a big handle. I didn't think of it at the time. When I walked through it, the entire place looked different."

"Why didn't you turn around and go the other way?" Jax asked calmly.

"I wasn't thinking clearly, after everything that had happened. I was still pretty worked up, if I'm being honest. All I could think about was getting to the bathroom, cleaning my face up, and getting back to the dance floor where I could show Bryce that he didn't affect me whatsoever." Her shoulders squared, her posture straightening as she spoke. The defiance was written on her body as clear as day. I had to admit, I felt proud of her for it. Even if I barely knew the girl.

"So I made my way down the hallway. It was eerily quiet, now that I think back on it. Too quiet. I remember trying to figure out which door was the bathroom. There were no signs or anything. That should have been my red flag, but, again, I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. About halfway down the hall, I decided it was better to just try to find it. At that point, I also needed to use said restroom."

She visibly changed at that point, her body pulling into itself, her arms wrapping around her once more. She even tucked her legs up under her, making herself as small as possible.

Guarding herself.

I felt the urge to protect her rise within me. It was something I valued about myself — the desire to protect others, to keep them safe. It was one of the first ways I had discovered… well, more truths about myself, many years ago.

"Take your time." My words came out softly, reaching out to touch her arm in comfort, but she only pulled further away.

"I heard…" she began with a shuddering breath, her words seemingly half caught in her throat. "I heard voices."

Voices? That was new. There wasn't a mention of voices anywhere in the report.

"What exactly did you hear?" I asked carefully. This was it — the details I'd been hoping for.

"I don't know!" she nearly shouted with exasperation — or possibly frustration with her memory.

Before I had a chance to respond, Deacon returned, a glass of what I knew to be whiskey in his hand. Without a word, he grabbed the arm of her computer chair, swinging it around to face him as he crouched down to her level.

"Here. Drink." He held out the tumbler to her.

Her eyes looked at the glass quizzically before meeting his gaze with distaste.

"You want me to drink some unknown substance? No, thank you. I know better than to accept a drink from a man I barely know." Her nose turned up at him, refusing his gesture.

"Drink. It's whiskey, and nothing more. But the burn will help. Trust me."

She regarded him warily, but finally accepted the tumbler with a roll of her eyes.

"Fine." She took a sip of the drink. I expected the wince and hiss that was sure to follow from any woman I'd ever met. However, much to my surprise, she simply let out a soft moan of approval. She sipped at the whiskey with a look of bliss on her face. Her shoulders relaxed. It was almost as though I could see the tension leave her body — at least a little.

"Now, look at me," Deacon all but commanded her. For whatever reason, that didn't sit well with me. Still, I allowed him to help her. It wasn't my place. Honestly, I had no idea why the sense of protectiveness and possessiveness had come over me. Shaking it from my mind, I watched as Deacon guided her through a breathing exercise, helping to calm her mind.

It was a tactic we used often in our work. And if anyone knew how to get a person talking, it was Deacon. It was his specialty, as it were.

After a few moments, Maddy had set the tumbler aside and seemed ready to continue.

"I heard voices when I got partway down the hall. It was quiet." Her eyes focused on some unknown point ahead of her, not looking at anyone or anything in particular. Paper in hand, I listened intently.

"Male or female?" I asked softly.

"I don't know. Male, I'm pretty sure. I couldn't make out the words, though. I could just hear mumbling from behind the door."

"How many voices did you hear? One? Two? More?" I asked gently.

"More than one. But I don't know how many. I could tell it was a conversation, and I just assumed that if I heard voices, it was likely the bathroom, you know? I… I wasn't thinking straight." Her lower lip quivered slightly, her teeth gnawing at it in an attempt to stave off the emotions I was sure were overwhelming her.

"I opened the door and—" Her words halted abruptly on a choked sob, and I glanced up from the paper to see tears filling her eyes, her entire body visibly shaking. It took everything I had not to reach out and pull her into my arms.

I may not have known the girl from Eve, but the desire to protect was not one I could ignore. Not easily, at least. My fists tightened in my lap, clutching the pen like a lifeline as I staved off the desire to give her care and protection.

"Slow, deep breaths, Maddy," I spoke slowly, mimicking Deacon's earlier calming tone. Once she had visibly calmed, at least by a little, I continued. "When you opened the door, what happened first?"

"I don't know. All I remember is blood. And then I ran." Her tone shifted to one of anger. I knew it well. Anger was the easiest emotion to give in to, much better than fear when faced with the choice.

"Maddy, look at me," I commanded her gently. With great hesitation, her eyes found mine.

I took a deep breath, grateful when she copied my breathing pattern.

"Now, close your eyes. I want you to stop focusing on what you saw, or what you remember." My words were calm and soothing, helping her to relax. "Focus on your five senses. Tell me what you heard when the door opened."

"Nothing. There was no noise. No voices. But only for a split second," she answered, eyes closed, her head resting back against the chair's headrest.

"What did you— "

"Wait. There was a voice. Right as I was opening the door. He said wait, or stop, or something like that. And the gunshot. I heard the gunshot." Her voice quivered, her fingers digging into the skin of her upper arms as she held herself tightly. "It was so loud." The last words were nothing more than a whisper, almost imperceptible had we all not listening so closely.

"What did you smell?" My voice grew quieter, letting her mind take over as she journeyed through her trauma.

"Metal." The shaky whisper of her voice tore at my heart, but I shook it off. Now was not the time to be soft. Now was not the time for care. It was time for details. The sooner we were able to get some real details from her, the sooner Quinn and his department could hopefully figure out who was fucking behind all this.

"What kind of metal?"

"Copper. Or iron. It was so thick in the air. Like, I couldn't get away from it. It made my stomach turn." I didn't think it was possible, but somehow she drew herself up further, making herself as small as humanly possible in the oversized computer chair. She looked tiny, almost childlike.

"What did you taste?"

"Vomit. And then metal."

I don't think even she understood what that meant. The gunshot had gone off; they'd shot the man in the head right before her eyes.

Her mouth had been open. Probably in shock.

And blood had gone into her mouth.

Without her realizing. Even now.

"What did you feel?" I asked quietly.

She was quiet for a moment. The shaking had returned, bad enough that the chair moved. Sully had slipped around the corner of the room, situating himself behind her, one hand on the back of her chair to steady it without her notice. My eyes raised to meet his gaze, a nod of understanding shared between us.

"Fear." Her voice was so tiny, so vulnerable. The ache within me to pull her close was nearly overwhelming. It was ridiculous to feel this strongly about some girl I'd only met yesterday. Ridiculous.

Pull yourself together, Niko .

"Don't think about emotions. Think about sensation. What did you feel ?" I clarified.

"The hairs on the back of my neck stood up," she whispered. "Wet. I felt wetness."

"Where?" I urged her.

"Everywhere. Face. Arms. Body. It was… everywhere." Her voice had grown hoarse, her jaw clenched so tightly that each word was nearly hissed out as she visibly tried to hold on to what little composure she had left.

"Now tell me what you saw." This was it. If she was fully immersed in the memory, letting her memory guide her without the trauma and fear taking hold, this would be the moment we would get information.

"I saw…" she began, but her voice cut off as a single tear slid from the corner of her eyes, sliding down her cheek slowly.

The tension in the room rose to a fever pitch. Each of us men waited with bated breath for the evidence that may or may not be crucial to the case.

"I saw a man. A few feet off to the left of me, further in the room. His face was…" she trailed off, her jaw hung open. I visibly watched her chest heave as emotion flooded her.

"His face was what?" I pushed.

"Gone. Just… gone." Her eyes were still closed, tears slipping down her cheeks silently, her body trembling violently.

"Let your mind relax. Look past the man. What did you see past him?" We were so close. If she could just —

"No." The icy tone of her voice stopped me in my tracks, my eyes lifting from her trembling form to find her eyes open, narrowed directly at one thing: me.

"Close your eyes again. Let your mind relax." I knew I was pressuring her, but we needed this information. One glance at Sullivan standing there behind her told me I was pushing my luck, but we had to get through this.

"I. Said. No." Low and full of icy steel, her voice held no room for argument. Still, I pressed my luck.

"If you try to relax, try to ease your thoughts, you'll be able to see past the shock of the moment. You'd be surprised by—"

"You are the most arrogant, obtrusive man alive if you think I am going to sit here one second longer, going through this. I said no." She all but leaped from her chair, standing over my sitting form in a blaze of fury I knew wasn't truly directed at me.

"Maddy, we need to get your statement and help the police find the people who did this to you." I kept my tone light, trying to ease her anger as best I could.

"I've had enough of this." With her arms still wrapped around her body, she spun on her heel, intent on walking out. About halfway there, she turned back, stomping towards me with a finger pointed directly at my face.

" You need to open a fucking book and learn what boundaries are." The words hissed from her lips like a viper prepared to strike.

And I, for one, knew better than to rattle a creature poised to bite.