Chapter Forty-One Abby

The moment the car door slammed shut, Nathan's glare sliced through the silence like a blade.

"What were you thinking, telling your dad that?" His voice was a low growl, the sound of it sending a clear message: I'm not to be trifled with.

I met his gaze without flinching, mustering the bravado I didn't feel. "Why don't you trust me, Nathan?" I asked, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. My fingers found his hand resting on the gear shift, tracing the hard lines of his knuckles. "I've been on your side since…"

Well, since he had decided he wasn't going to kill me. Didn't seem like the right time to say that. "Since you wanted me on your side. I want...I want to be good for you." The words tumbled out, a mix of truth and lies weaving a dangerous dance.

His eyes, dark as night, shifted from the rearview mirror to settle on our entwined hands. A tension I hadn't noticed before seemed to bleed from his shoulders, and he eased back into the seat, the ghost of a smile curling his lips. "Fine," he said, and the word was a grudging concession.

"Where to?" he asked, as if the reprimand had never happened.

"325 Shannon Street. Apartment 3B." I rattled off the address, aware that every detail mattered now.

"Need to grab anything specific?" He glanced my way, one eyebrow arched in question.

"Nothing much. Just some toiletries, meds, and clothes." I shrugged nonchalantly while inside, my mind raced with all the things I couldn't say aloud. No mention of my laptop or the secrets it held. He didn't need to know about those.

"Got it." He started the engine, and we pulled away from the curb, driving toward a destination that felt more like a crossroads than a simple apartment on Shannon Street.

My mind replayed the meeting with my dad over and over. The way his eyes had sharpened when I introduced Nathan, the way he'd scrutinized every word that fell from Nathan's lips.

"Abby," Nathan's voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. "How do you think it went? Your dad seemed...content."

I fixed a smile on my face, one that I hoped reached my eyes. "He was relieved. You know how dads are. It's been ages since we last saw each other. He was just so excited to see me." The words felt like ash in my mouth, but I let none of the bitterness show.

"Good." His response was terse, a single note of satisfaction in his otherwise unreadable demeanor…and I realized that he might not know how dads are at all. His father was the Serpent himself, a dangerous killer with a global reputation. Mine was just a loveable grump.

Also an accomplished detective who'd taken down people just like Nathan's father, but that wasn't important right then, and it certainly wasn't something I wanted to draw attention to.

I turned slightly in my seat to face him, allowing my gaze to flicker over his profile. "To keep selling it, though, you are going to have to let me see him alone sometimes."

Nathan's grip on the steering wheel tightened momentarily before he nodded. "If you think it's necessary."

"Absolutely," I insisted, pressing on despite the risk. "It'll make everything more believable."

His silence was unnerving, but I couldn't let doubt seep into my facade now. I thought about the napkin left behind at dinner, the serpent and fangs I'd drawn instead of writing words too perilous to pen. A coded message only a cop—or a daughter raised by one—would understand. I prayed silently that my dad would get it, that he knew me well enough to decipher the warning hidden in those simple doodles.

And that he would let me keep doing my job, no matter what he knew.

That he would trust I was safe–just as I'd written on the note–even if I wasn't sure that was true.

The city lights blurred past us, neon streaks in the night's canvas as we made our way toward what I could only hope would be a semblance of safety, at least for tonight.

The car pulled to a stop, and I shook the thoughts from my head, focusing on the reality of the situation at hand. Nathan turned off the engine, casting a look that sliced through the silence. "You're quiet. Thinking about anything in particular?"

"I'm sleepy from the food," I said, my voice even, betraying none of the turmoil beneath.

"And you didn't even have dessert," he said.

I smirked. "Do you have something in mind?"

He paused, studying me with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to know too much. "You on birth control?"

The question yanked me back to the present. I blinked, taken aback. "I have an IUD," I replied, my mind racing behind my calm exterior. Why ask now, after days spent in each other's reckless embrace? But it came to me quick, and the answer chilled me–because he hadn't expected me to still be breathing by this point.

Fuck.

"Smart," he murmured, almost admiringly.

We stepped out of the car, and the cool evening air was a sharp contrast to the heat that had built up inside. My legs stiffened as we approached the door to my apartment building, the weight of Erika's potential reaction pressing on me more than Nathan's unpredictable presence.

As soon as the door swung open, Erika launched herself at me, her arms wrapping tight around my frame. "Abby! Where the hell have you been? You can't just disappear like that!"

"Sorry, babe," I apologized, patting her back. "It was...complicated."

"Complicated doesn't even start to cover it!" she scolded before rounding on Nathan with a ferocity that looked totally out of proportion with her small stature. "And you!" she snapped, poking a finger into his chest. "You think you can just take her and not tell anyone?"

Nathan regarded her with a tilt of his head, an unreadable expression on his face. "She's safe, isn't she?"

"Safe doesn't mean unmissed, you giant oaf!" Erika retorted, hands on her hips. "You…really hot oaf…"

I hid my smile at the sight–Erika, all five feet of fury, taking on Nathan Zhou, whose reputation alone could make grown men tremble. But here he was, nodding respectfully at her chiding. It was almost endearing.

"Point taken," Nathan conceded, and I used their exchange to slip away towards the bathroom under the guise of needing a moment to freshen up. It bought me the precious seconds I needed without Nathan's prying eyes following me.

I only needed a few moments. If I wasn't careful, Agent Matthews would come for me and blow my cover so I needed to get in touch with him…but I also needed insurance.

I needed something to protect myself with.

I reached the drawer under my medicine cabinet where I kept my emergency burner phone and a utility knife. The chilling touch of the utility knife against my fingertips brought a sense of familiarity, a steely resolve running through my veins. I took a deep breath, catching sight of my reflection within the small cabinet mirror. The woman staring back at me looked calm, her eyes holding a determined glint. My father's words echoed in my mind, their weight growing heavier with each passing moment.

"Sprout," he'd said, his rough hands tousled my hair when I was still Abby Harper, not the undercover agent I'd become. "Remember, when the stakes are high, that's when you dig in your heels deeper."

I shoved the phone and knife into my bag first. With swift movements, I gathered my essentials, disguising them among mundane toiletries in my bag. Each item felt heavier than it should, burdened with the gravity of what they represented–survival.

"Abby?" Nathan's voice was closer now, just outside the bathroom door.

"Coming," I called out, ensuring my tone held a hint of annoyance. I hoisted the backpack over my shoulder, feeling the concealed weight of secrets and self-preservation against my back.

"Sorry about her," I said as I reemerged, gesturing toward Erika who was now fluffing cushions aggressively on the couch. "She worries."

"Understandably," he replied with a shrug. "She cares about you."

Erika didn't trust Nathan, and she was not going to leave us alone. I could tell. She pretended to check on the plant on the windowsill, eyeing us out of the corner of her vision with a profound lack of subtlety.

Nathan walked up to her. "What's going on?"

"It's wilting," Erika said. "I keep watering it and…"

"You're overwatering her," Nathan said softly, smiling at the plant–then speaking directly to it, throwing me entirely for a loop. "You're fine, aren't you? You just need a bit more light."

His gentle tone, so different from the hardened criminal persona he usually wore, surprised me. I watched him move the plant a few inches, adjusting its position towards the window.

"This is a moth orchid, they're a little fussy. They prefer indirect sunlight, so keep them near the window but away from direct rays. And they like humidity, so water less frequently, but plenty each time," Nathan instructed, his voice calm and knowledgeable. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he adjusted the plant's position. "How long have you had it?"

"A couple of months," Erika replied, her voice softening a touch, clearly intrigued despite herself.

Nathan nodded as he pulled away from the plant, his fingers lingering on the leaves. "She'll be fine. Just change your watering routine and she should perk up in no time. If she's still giving you trouble in a week, stop by Grant Avenue Floral and ask for Mr. Lao," he told Erika without looking away from the plant. "I'll have him set aside some fertilizer for her."

Erika looked taken aback by his kind offer, her eyes wide as she watched him. I felt a pang of something–jealousy? No, that wasn't right. Regret, maybe. Regret for the circumstances that kept us on opposite sides. I dealt my feelings swiftly and silently away.

"Well, thanks," Erika managed finally, her scowl softening slightly. "I'll take care of her if you take care of Abby."

Nathan smiled. "You got a deal."

As I watched them from a safe distance, my heart pounded against my chest. Erika–so fiercely concerned, yet giving in to Nathan's charm, and Nathan...he was an enigma. A monster one moment, a gentle soul the next. I didn't know what scared me more.

He turned to look at me. Smiled. "You ready?"

"Let's go." I nodded, feeling an odd sense of kinship in that small exchange over something as simple as a houseplant. Nathan, with all his power and presence, had a soft spot for growth and nurturing, even if it was just for a straggly bit of green fighting for survival.

We walked downstairs, back to the car, quietly. "You didn't have to help her."

"Plants shouldn't just die for no reason."

"Yeah, but you went above and beyond," I said, trying to keep my voice light despite the churn of conflict inside me, "if you keep being so sweet, I might actually start to like you."

He winced, as if I'd said something that hurt his feelings. As if I could hurt his feelings.

"I didn't mean like I don't already like you, I just–"

"Abby."

"What?"

"Be quiet," he said, and I fell quiet, just like he asked, unsure of what I had done to upset him.

Because no matter what, I knew the truth. No matter how sweet he seemed, Nathan Zhou was still the enemy. And I was still the girl who would take him down.