7. Nic

7

NIC

I 'm fading in and out of consciousness, the pain in my side a reminder of how close I am to death's door. The cabin swims in and out of focus as I fight to stay awake. Bella's tied up form catches my eye, and a wave of guilt washes over me.

What the hell am I doing, tying up an innocent girl whose only crime was being born into this fucked up world? But I can't risk her running off and getting caught by whoever's after us. If I die, at least she'll have a fighting chance holed up here for a while. I can only hope that she’s smart enough to get a burner phone and call Max if I do die on her. Except… how will she get untied? Clearly, my brain isn’t working right.

I groan, shifting on the couch to try and ease the burning in my side. The movement catches Bella's attention, and she looks at me with a mixture of fear and anger in those striking gray eyes.

“It’s for your own good,” I say again. But why the fuck do I care so much that she doesn’t look at me like I’m a monster?

She doesn't respond, just keeps staring at me with that fierce gaze. Christ, she's got more backbone than I gave her credit for.

Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision. The last thing I see is Bella, her eyes burning with defiance. Then, everything goes black.

Suddenly, I'm in the car on the side of the road. Bella isn’t in the driver’s seat. Where the fuck is she? I get out of the car, making sure I have my gun. Maybe we were stopped by a cop. Maybe we’ve been found.

When I reach the back of the car, she slams the trunk closed, and I think she’s in on this. I hold my gun on her. I should kill her. I can’t protect myself and figure out what’s going on with her as extra baggage.

“Niccolo, I see you’ve brought me my prize.”

I whirl around, and there’s my father.

“I told you she was beautiful, didn’t I? The Society is going to love?—”

“No.” I won’t let Bella become one of my father’s toys shared among the other perverts in his group. I lift my gun and shoot round after round into his face as he laughs at me.

I shake my head, like I know it’s a dream, but I don’t wake up. Instead, I’m paralyzed on the couch in the cabin. The driver of the car is standing next to a tied-up Bella, his fingers toying with her hair with a sick, leering smile on his face.

“You said you’d protect me,” she says to me. “I saved you, and now you’ve killed me.”

She’s not wrong. While I’ve never seen myself as a hero, I hate that I’ve failed her.

The driver holds up his gun toward me, and a part of me is relieved all this is about over. He pulls the trigger.

I jolt awake, my hands going to my gut, but I don’t feel more blood. The cabin comes into focus, and I see Bella's furious face. She's managed to scoot her chair closer to the couch, close enough to kick me.

"I need to use the bathroom," she hisses.

"Shit," I mutter, pushing myself up with a groan. The room spins for a moment, and I have to take a few deep breaths before I can stand.

I shuffle over to her, my side screaming in protest with every step. As I start to untie her, I notice the twine has left angry red marks on her wrists. I feel like I should apologize.

I finish untying her and step back, watching as she rubs her wrists and stands, a little unsteady after being bound for so long. She glares at me, then heads for the bathroom without another word. I follow her with every intention to keep control over her, even though I’m aware that in my current state, she can overpower me.

I realize now that I can’t restrain her. Not just because I don’t have the strength, but it’s not fair. If I do die, she needs to be able to save herself.

The bathroom door opens, and Bella emerges, looking slightly less murderous. “I’d offer to check your wound, maybe even see if there is a spare shirt so you don’t have to wear one crusted with your own blood, but I’m tired of being nice to you.”

I nod. “I deserve that. I won't tie you up again.”

She rolls her eyes. “Like you could. One stiff breeze and you’ll be on your back. I should leave you?—”

I let out a humorless chuckle that turns into a groan of pain. "Go ahead. But out there… you're as good as dead." Okay, so that came out harsher than I meant. Still, she needs to understand that she doesn’t know what she’s up against. Hell, I’m not sure what we’re up against.

“So, what happens when you die? Am I supposed to hide in this cabin forever?”

I shake my head, immediately regretting the movement as dizziness washes over me. “Hide your appearance and go out to buy a burner phone. Hopefully, no one will think of looking for you in Michigan. Then call that number I gave you. I promise you, Bella, he’ll help.”

“Like you’re helping?” Her tone is laced with sarcasm.

I don’t have the strength to keep up the conversation. “You don’t have to like me. I get that you don’t trust me. But if you want to live, I am your best chance, or Max if I don’t make it. I think you’re smart enough to realize that.”

She purses her lips at me. “Well, since I’d rather deal with the devil I know, why don’t I find a shirt and then check your bandages?”

I’m surprised she doesn’t find a bat to beat me with. It tells me that deep down, she knows I’m right and wants me to live if only to make sure she doesn’t die.

I manage to make it back to the couch while she wanders off down a hall. She reappears with a large flannel shirt. “It’s too big, but better than too small, right?”

She helps me take off my shirt and put on the large flannel that smells like pine and smoke in a cozy way.

She disappears again, reappearing with more first aid gear. I lie on the couch as she kneels next to it to check my wound. I’m able to notice this time that her fingers are long, her hands warm and gentle. I close my eyes, savoring it. It's been a long time since anyone's shown me this kind of care. In my world, kindness is a rare commodity, often viewed as weakness. But there's strength in Bella's gentleness, a quiet resilience that I’m growing to admire.

“It looks like the bleeding has stopped. The owner here is a doctor, and I found a kit to close your wounds.” She holds up a box of stitchless wound closers, something our family doc carries around for situations like mine.

“Does this doctor come across a lot of gunshot wounds?” I ask.

“No. But he and his family enjoy a lot of outdoor activities.” She cleans my wounds again and then uses the devices to close the bullet holes. It hurts like hell, but as her fingers brush along my skin, I notice the soft sensation of her touch more.

As she finishes, our eyes meet. For a moment, I feel something pass between us, something that isn’t hate or resentment. Perhaps a flicker of understanding. Or maybe it's just the pain and blood loss making me see things that aren't there.

“You’re good at this. Have you done it before?” I’m almost jealous of any men she’s tended to in the past. It’s a sign of delusion from too much blood loss.

“No. You should have more water and some food.”

“I’m not hungry.” Mostly, what I want to do is climb in a hole until I’m better or dead. I wouldn’t mind her climbing in with me. There’s something comforting about her. “I just need to rest for a bit.”

"What if someone comes?”

“Hide. Run. Do whatever you have to do to survive, and call Max. Just don't go to my father or yours." I pause, fighting another wave of dizziness. "But if no one comes, the safest thing for you right now is to stay close."

“Fine. I’m getting food.”

She rises, but I reach out, taking her wrist. "Thank you.”

She tugs her wrist back, no doubt concerned that I’m tricking her to tie her up again. "Don't thank me. I'm just trying to keep you alive long enough to get us out of this mess."

I nod, wincing at the movement. "Still… I appreciate it."

“Yeah, well, I’m a sucker for wounded animals.”

I can't help but chuckle at Bella's words, despite the pain it causes. "A sucker for wounded animals, huh? What sort of animal am I?”

“Not the cute and cuddly kind, that’s for sure.”

I find that oddly funny too. “In my world, being cute and cuddly would be bad.” It's a surreal moment, sharing a joke with this girl I've essentially kidnapped while I'm bleeding out on a couch. But somehow, it lessens the tension.

“So far, I don’t like your world.”

“Ah, but you must know, you live in this world too. Your father sheltered you, but you’re in it. And as far as I can tell, you’re a survivor. He didn’t take that away from you.”

Her gray eyes watch me, and I get the feeling that she takes my words as a compliment. Good, because they were.

She crosses her arms. “Yeah, well, I’ve had enough.”

“Admit it, I'm growing on you."

She scoffs, but there's less heat in it than before. "Like a fungus, maybe."

For a moment, we just look at each other, the tension between us easing a bit more. I find myself grateful for it.

I’m drifting off again, the pain and exhaustion pulling me under. As my eyes close, I wonder if Bella will still be here when I wake up. Part of me hopes she'll stay while another part wishes she'll run far away from this mess she’s been dragged into.

My thoughts blur as sleep takes hold. I'm still in the cabin, but everything feels different. Softer. Warmer. Bella's there, her touch gentle as she tends to my wound. But this time, her fingers linger, tracing patterns on my skin that send shivers through me.

"Bella," I murmur, reaching for her.

She smiles, a look in her eyes I've never seen before. Gone are the anger and fear, replaced by something warmer. More inviting.

She leans close, her breath hot against my ear. "I'm here, Nic. I’ll take care of you. Where does it hurt?”

My hand points to my side. She leans over, pressing a kiss on my wound. A new sort of ache replaces the pain. This isn't right , I think hazily. She's too young, too innocent. But in this dream world, those concerns feel distant and unimportant.

“Anywhere else?”

Yes, my dick, but I can’t point to that.

Bella's lips brush against my neck, and I groan softly. Her hand slides down my abdomen and lower. “How about here?”

Yes , is all I can think. I’m feeling pleasure and excitement. Her hand strokes over my dick, somehow free of my slacks. I arch into her touch. Those long, warm fingers send delicious sensations coursing through me.

“Is this better?” Her lips trail down my abdomen, heading toward my dick. I’m delirious with need now.

“More.” I can hear the aching need in my tone. In the back of my mind, there are all sorts of reasons I shouldn’t do this. She’s only nineteen, for Christ’s sake. She’s my father’s fiancé… except I know I can’t let that happen. I don’t know how I’ll save her and Gia too, but I know I have to.

Her lips wrap around the tip of my cock, her tongue gently lapping around the edge. I’ve been with a lot of women in my life. Had many orgasms. But I haven’t felt one come on so quickly, so powerfully since I was a teenager getting a lesson from a hooker paid for by Max for my birthday.

“Fuck… yes… Bella…”

I wake with a start. I’m disoriented, and then I realize I’ve just had a dream about Bella sucking me off. Fuck. Was it a wet dream? My hand goes to my dick. It’s hard, but dry, thank fuck.

But now I’m noticing how dark and quiet it is. I sit up and once again am nearly brought down by nausea. I manage to rise and lumber my way toward a window at the front of the house. Pulling the curtain aside, I note that it’s dark out. I’ve been out for hours. Plenty of time for Bella to leave.

I stumble to the kitchen, looking out the back window. I’m shocked to see the car still parked behind the house.

“Bella?” My throat feels like sandpaper, so my voice is rough, barely audible. I have to consider that she hoofed it out of here. I know she didn’t like being in a stolen vehicle. Or maybe someone showed up and took her. And I slept through it. The idea of not waking up because she was fucking me with her mouth in a dream makes me sick.

Using the walls to help me stay upright, I manage my way down a hall. Room one with two sets of bunk beds is empty. Room two, with a queen bed, is empty. At the end of the hall, I reach the final room. In it is a large king bed and a sleeping woman. I feel like I walked into a fairy tale. Sleeping Beauty? Maybe Goldilocks.

I stagger in and watch her for a moment. She’s radiant in sleep, her features relaxed, her long, dark hair spread over the pillow. The moonlight coming in from under the curtain is casting a glow that makes her look like an angel.

I should leave her alone, make my way back to the couch, or maybe the queen bed. But I’m so fucking tired. My side feels like it’s on fire. So instead, I lie on the bed beside her. Before my head hits the pillow, darkness takes me again.