Nadia's Salvation Read online

  I’m not okay.

  I finally admit it to myself. I’m not, how could I be? One moment she was here, and then she was gone. Humans aren’t supposed to live forever, but she was still so young with so much life, it flowed through her into everything she touched. It isn’t fair, stupid, I know, because life isn’t fair. She was a good person, not that it mattered. Her diseases didn’t care.

  She didn’t win a war or run a country or build anything amazing, but she existed. She mattered. And my life will never be the same without her here. Unable to move, I sit and stare, my eyes burning as the grandfather clock she insisted was an heirloom ticks loudly and gongs at each hour.

  How long have I been sitting here?

  Who cares?

  Why does it matter?

  Time, God, I wish we had more. One more minute, one more hug, one more dancing session, one more trip out. One more, always one more, and maybe those one mores will turn into two, then three, and then forever. I would never let her go, but isn’t that what you have to do? Let people go?

  Love is so strange. Sometimes you can love someone so much it becomes the norm and you don’t even feel it, but when they are gone it’s like all the air has been sucked from the room and you finally realise...their love was so all-consuming that you needed it to function.

  “Nads?” comes a soft whisper and I blink, looking up to see Scarlett hovering over me. “Oh, babe.”

  “I’m not okay,” I croak, and she nods, sliding down the other side of the archway, her feet touching mine, her face devastated.

  “It’s okay to not be okay. Fuck, that sounds cliché, but it’s true. Why should you be okay? Feel what you’re feeling. Let it hurt, let it rip you to pieces, and I swear to you I’ll put you back together again. It feels like the whole world is against you right now, like you’re on an island alone and lost, but you will never be. I’ll never let that happen, we are family, Nads. We’re all each other has. So if we need to sit here and stare into nothing, we will. If you need to get drunk and make regrets, we’ll do that too. Together.” She leans forward then, grasping my cold hand and warming it with hers, her engagement ring catching the light. “Max is the love of my life, my soulmate, but you? You are the very blood in my veins, Nadia. You’re my sister, the reason I’m able to love. You put me back together so many times, let me do that for you now.”

  I nod, tears dripping down my face unchecked, and she blinks away the wetness in her own lashes. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” she whispers, and leans back.

  And so we sit, just sit, letting the memories, both good and bad, wash through us.

  “Remember when she made brownies and you spiked them? She didn’t have a clue why we were both giggling like idiots.” She grins.

  “She was so mad when she found out. I was grounded for two weeks.” I giggle at the memory. “What about when we threw a party when she went on that cruise and switched all her vodka to water?”

  She laughs with me as we trade stories, and I don’t feel quite as alone. Scar loved her too, it’s nice to remember all the good times, our love filling up those cracks made when she died, like a plaster, not permanent but it will hold for now.

  “Are you sure?” she asks for the millionth time, frowning at me. I know she planned to stay, and as much as I love her...sometimes, you just need to be alone. To stop putting on a front and just be you.

  “I’m sure,” I insist, forcing a smile, but it mustn’t be very convincing.

  “I think I’ll stay just a little longer,” she whispers.

  “Scar, I love you, but go home. Hug your hottie, kiss your doggy. I’ll be fine, and I’ll ring you if I need you, I promise,” I beg with big eyes. She sighs and I know I have her.

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” She finishes wiping down the table. Max had dropped off some homemade tacos for us, and we had eaten together and then watched a movie. She grabs her coat and stops at the door. “Night, Nads, anytime, I mean it.” She points at me, her tone commanding, and I smile for real this time.

  “Got it.”

  She watches me for a moment before nodding and leaving. Once the door clicks shut after her, I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding and wrap my arms around myself—it’s colder now. Licking my lips, I force myself upstairs, hesitating at the open doorway to Gammie’s room. I shut the door gently, not ready to go in there yet, and head to my room, flopping back on my bed, scooting under the covers, and staring at the ceiling.

  Four hours later after a shower, a run, and a wardrobe cleaning spree, my mind still won’t shut off. Frustrated with myself, I grab my phone and scroll through social media, rolling my eyes at the problems and rants people are posting for attention and their so-called perfect lives. I only end up getting annoyed, so I throw my phone down and roll to my back, once again staring at the ceiling.

  Fed up, I stand and storm to my wardrobe. I grab the first dress I see, and without bothering to put on panties or a bra, I slip into it, grabbing matching heels and sliding them on. I slick my hair back into a ponytail, so I at least look somewhat presentable, and conceal the bags under my eyes before applying my red lipstick.

  There...I don’t look completely terrible. The black dress is short and made of silk, hugging my curves and breasts. The back is low cut and the heels have lace strips, which wrap around my calves. Grabbing my bag from last night, I add some more money as well as my phone and keys before locking up and walking to the end of the street where the taxi rank is.

  I catch one pretty quickly and we zoom through the city, heading to a nightclub called Crawlers. There are two reasons why—one, it has amazing cocktails, and two...Jamie.

  I’ve never really done relationships. I didn’t have the time, but I had needs like everyone else. Jamie was my constant hook up, my booty call. I met him on a night out and he ended up taking me to the VIP area and then back to his place. I found out later he owned the club.

  Green eyes flash in my mind, but I force them away, I have no room to think about that asshole tonight. He had the chance, and he made it clear what he thought of me. I won’t waste one more second pining over a guy like that. No dick is worth it.

  I don’t bother getting into the queue that winds around the block, instead I stroll up to the door, blowing a kiss at Michael who’s bouncing there. He lets me in with a wink and the music hits me immediately, the pounding of rock songs spiking my heart rate and bringing a smile to my face.

  This, this is what I needed.

  I head straight to the glass bar that’s in one corner. The rest of the club is filled with a few tables and a bigger dance floor, with a twisted staircase leading to the VIP section. It’s grungy and grimy and perfect.

  I down the shot and then the next before passing over my money and heading to the stairs hidden in the back corner, which leads to his office overlooking the club. The glass is one way, only able to see down and not in. Christian is waiting there as I saunter up.

  “Hey, hotness, is he in?” I ask.

  “He’s being interviewed by some red-headed cop.” He shrugs.

  “What did he do now?” I laugh.

  “Not him, for once, you want to wait in his office?” he inquires, uncrossing his wide arms.

  “Thanks,” I chirp cheerfully, and let him go up the metal staircase first and unlock the office door before swinging it open. I step inside, heading straight for the bar he keeps in the corner, and make myself a whisky before hopping onto the large desk.

  “I’ll send him right up.” Christian grins at me, his brown eyes flashing in amusement.

  “Don’t tell him who.” I smirk, imagining his irritation at Christian for letting someone into his office, his safe space.

  “You got it!” Christian laughs, shutting the door as I perch on the desk. Swinging my legs as I wait, I feel the alcohol already coursing through my body. I sip at the whisky, and it’s not much later when I hear him reaming Christian out.

  “Appointment only—” The door opens and h
e spots me, his mouth snapping closed before he grins. “Never mind,” he calls, shutting the door in a grinning Christian’s face. “What are you doing here, sweetie?”

  “Want to fuck?” I query, sipping at the whisky as I lean back and open my legs a little so he gets a clear view of my pussy—not subtle, but I don’t give a fuck. I need the oblivion I can find in his arms.

  He runs his eyes down me, a slow smirk forming as his eyes turn hungry. “Fuck, you sure know how to seduce a guy, and after the day I’ve had…” He shakes his head, stopping in front of me, and takes the whisky glass from my hand, shooting back the drink before he tosses the crystal tumbler at the wall where it shatters. “I ain’t feeling gentle tonight though, sweetie.”

  “Fuck gentle, it’s much more fun rough,” I purr, wrapping my legs around his waist, and for a moment I wish he was someone else, but then I push that thought away.

  “Good,” he whispers, and then with no warning, he pushes me down, his mouth coming to mine as he kisses me hard, his tongue duelling for control as his hand strokes up my thigh, pushing up my dress.

  I moan into his mouth, loving the rough feeling of his hand against my skin, and when he finally covers my pussy, I’m gone. It’s been too long, too many emotions. I need to forget it all, let the pleasure he can give me make it disappear just for a while. So I clear my mind, focusing on the slightly sweet taste of him, of the rasp of his skin as he strokes me softly at first before he flicks my clit, making me gasp and yank away from his mouth. He looks down at me, his fingers dipping inside, two, stretching me as I pant, arching up.

  He yanks my dress down with his other hand, baring my chest to the room, and the cool air has my nipples pebbling before he leans down and sucks one into his mouth, his teeth catching slightly. “So fucking hot,” he murmurs as he pulls his fingers away, making me whine. He steps back, flicking open his trousers and pushing them down, not bothering to take them or his shirt off as he reaches over and pulls out a condom, rolling it down his hard length.

  He’s one of the best I’ve ever been with. I nearly almost always come and he eats a hell of a good pussy. He lines up, licking his bottom lip as he stares at me spread across his desk. “You’re too fucking hot.”

  I grin up at him, reaching down and guiding him to my waiting pussy, his mushroom head prodding at my entrance, and then we groan as he thrusts inside me before stilling, both of us panting, sweat beading on his forehead and my chest flushing.

  “Jamie,” I warn and he grins, his hands coming down on either side of my head as he starts to move, slow at first, like he’s trying to hold back, but I don’t want that, so I twist my nipples, moaning loudly and he shivers, his thrusts stuttering before they turn wild.

  Groaning, I grip on to his shoulders, my release building.

  “I’m so close,” he moans.

  Fuck, I reach between us and rub at my clit furiously, forcing my climax as he grunts and stills. My eyes close in bliss as I float away for a moment, everything gone but the pleasure coursing through my body.

  He collapses on top of me, his head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around him, panting myself. All that pleasure...that oblivion fading, and in its place is cold, deep cold, and the feeling of being dirty.

  The sensation is only added to when he pulls out, tosses the condom in his bin, and does up his trousers. “Look, sweetie, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy tonight,” he says, scratching his head.

  “Please, I only came for a quickie,” I tease, hopping up and grimacing at the gush down my legs, ugh. I kiss his cheek, put away my breasts, and grab my bag, hightailing it out of there. It felt so good as it happened, so good to be held, finding love and comfort in someone’s arms, but the only thing with that kind of quick love is it fades, and when it does you feel more desolate than before.

  I clean up in the toilets downstairs and grab a few more drinks, but after our quickie mixed with the alcohol, I’m finally starting to get tired, so I stumble from the club, shivering in the cold, and grab the closest taxi which takes me home. Once I’m at the house, I collapse on my bed and fall deeply asleep, my dreams filled with corpses and my Gammie.

  Chapter Ten

  Keanu

  Spending the whole day and night searching into any leads I can find on the computer, monitoring banks, and phones, has given me a massive headache. Leaning back in my chair, I pinch the bridge of my nose before massaging my temples. I need sleep, it’s been over twenty-four hours, but I have so much I need to do.

  Plus...my mind keeps turning elsewhere, places it shouldn’t. Like wondering if Nadia is okay. What the hell is it with this girl that has me forgetting myself? Unable to help it, I lean forward, my chair coming with me, and scoot back under my desk. It stretches to the left and right, filled with screens, cameras, and four computers with a control system and air conditioning at the back of the room in the hub. I load up the cameras I installed at her house and check them, but when I can’t find Nadia, I sit back with a frown. I load her phone next, checking her messages before I use her GPS to track her position.

  When I find out where she is, fury washes through me, then I still in my seat. What if she goes home with someone? She’s at a club, probably getting drunk again—what if she hooks up? What if she gets so drunk she can’t get home?

  Oh fuck, what if she becomes their next target?

  More than one girl has gone missing from that club or near it, so it wouldn’t be so out of the blue. Shit. Standing up, I rush down the stairs, slipping on my shoes and grabbing my keys. I load up her position in my phone as I get into the car, watching it as I squeal down my drive and race through the city.

  This fucking woman.

  When I get to the club, I pull up on the corner, ready to get out of the car when I see her stumble out of the front door. As pissed as I am at her, I can admit how fucking utterly stunning she looks in that dress. I slide the door shut, observing her as she flags down a cab and gets inside. Once they start to pull away, I fire up my car and follow them, stalking her through the city, only letting out a relieved breath when it drops her off at home and she goes inside.

  Her bedroom light comes on for a moment then flicks off again, the house going quiet.

  She’s home, she’s safe.

  I repeat it, but it doesn’t settle the churning in my gut. Fine, fuck, I’ll sit here for a while and make sure she stays in and she’s safe. I push back my chair, load up my phone, and keep one eye on the house and the other on the cameras at the docks.

  No one has been by yet, but they will need to stop in soon, otherwise I’m going to go to each kidnapping location, rotating each night until I can find some of the members. They are surprisingly good at covering their tracks.

  I sit here for hours, my attention divided between my job and the woman inside until the sun rises and I see her moving around the house. I’m exhausted, so I fire up the car and head home for a few hours of sleep before I get back to work. The human body is just like a computer, you have to restart it sometimes and let it sleep so it can work at full speed.

  After three hours of sleep, I’m awake, showered, dressed, and sitting at my computers. I’ve decided to hack the security footage of the club Nadia was at to check for potential witnesses or suspects...for no other reason.

  I spend the next hour combing through footage from as far back as seven days until last night plays. I pay particular attention then, scanning the crowds, assuring myself it’s simply to ensure I don’t miss anything, but my heart races when I spot her.

  She’s in that fucking black dress and struts through the club like she owns it, stopping at the bar for a drink before heading over to the stairs at the back, which leads to the office. She lingers there for a minute, talking to the guard, before heading upstairs with him. He lets her in and shuts the door behind her.

  My hand clenches my mouse as I speed it up, and not five minutes later a man in a suit, who I know owns the club, heads to that same office, lets himself in, and shuts the
door behind him.

  The longer they stay in there, the angrier and calmer I become. A cold fury takes over me. I’m not an idiot. I know what they’re doing. When she finally emerges and heads straight to the bathroom downstairs, I push away from my desk, my fists clenched. I don’t admit why it pisses me off…or hurts me to see her moving on with someone else. Instead, I leave my office and head to my gym. I’ll work out my frustrations there, pretending it’s his stupid, smug face.

  It should be me, me holding her, touching her.

  No, where the fuck did that come from? No, it shouldn’t. No one deserves to have to deal with me, least of all her. I rip my shirt off over my head, flicking on the music and drowning out my thoughts as I walk straight to the bag without taping up and start hitting, letting out all my anger and frustrations. Sweat pours down me until I’m forced to stop, my muscles screaming at me. Leaning my head on the bag, I suck in air while flashes of her in that dress being fucked by that asshole stream across my vision until I scream, stumbling back from the bag.

  I need to fight or fuck or do something until I’m not thinking about my girl with someone else. So I head upstairs, have a quick wash, and strap on my weapons before shucking on a suit and driving downtown. I head for Serenity, pulling into my spot in the underground car park and going up in the elevator. When it opens, I march straight to the other elevator doors, ignoring the blonde receptionist who calls after me. I manually open them with my phone, after all, I installed the security system here.

  When I get to his penthouse, I saunter in like I own the joint. He’s working on the sofa, his legs up on the coffee table as he watches his screens. When he spots me, he presses something quickly, but I catch a glimpse of red hair on the screens before it changes to views of the city. “There is a thing called appointments,” Donald drawls, leaning back and crossing his slack-covered leg at the knee as he watches me.