my way out to the parking lot with him a little too close for liking. It’s a risk. There’s no eyes or ears out here and Nic could grab me at any time and overpower me. He could take me back to Breakers Flats and force me to hear him out, but he’s smarter than that. He knows if he wants even the smallest chance of making things right between us, he needs to do things my way, and that’s not something he’s ever been able to do. Hell, that’s clear by the way he showed up here today.
I’ve been ignoring his texts and calls for a reason. I don’t like people forcing their timelines on me and deciding for me when I should be ready to talk things through and Nic is the worst for that. I like to sit and stew for a few days, figure out exactly what I want to say and how to say it, figure out how to make it hurt the most. This … this just feels like a trap.
I stop in the middle of the parking lot and spin around. He only just catches himself before slamming into me and the second his eyes seek out mine, his expression changes, and I see the real Nic, the one who has been plagued by guilt over what he has done.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand.
“You weren’t answering my texts and you’ve silenced every fucking call that I made. You left me no fucking choice.”
“There are plenty of fucking choices,” I shriek, “but coming into my school, in front of my friends who know nothing about you or what you stand for is not the way. Hell, the fucking guidance counselor is a Wolf for fuck’s sake. You need to leave. I don’t want to see you and I don’t want you coming around.”
“We need to talk about this, O. Don’t fucking dismiss me. There’s too much bullshit between us. Too much history to just let it go like that. I won’t let you do it.”
“I don’t give a shit what you want, Nic. You sent five fucking lunatics to attack us. Maryne was killed because of you.”
“I didn’t send them to fucking kill anyone. That wasn’t part of the deal. We need to talk about this. You have all your wires crossed and you’re just thinking whatever the fuck you want to think without giving me a chance to explain my side.”
I glance down at my phone before looking back up at his pleading face. “So, talk,” I demand. “You have three minutes before the bell sounds and I won't be wasting a single second more.”
He swallows hard. “Come on, O. Just give me a proper chance to get this out. Let’s go back to your place and we can talk properly.”
I prop a hand on my hip and raise an unimpressed brow. “Like hell I’m going anywhere with you. You’re fucking insane if you think I’m about to invite you back into Colton’s home after the bullshit you did. Your time is ticking, so I suggest you start talking, otherwise you can fuck off,” I tell him, not in the mood to be standing around in the lonely parking lot while he grovels for forgiveness.
Nic lets out a sigh and realizing that he has no other choice, he tells me what he came all this way to say. “Three years ago, Kian and I cut a deal with Vincent DeCarlo. All their bullshit ran through the Widows. Their drug runs, their dirty fucking money, the gun smuggling, everything. It kept DeCarlo looking clean on paper while my father didn’t give a shit how we appeared. He was un-fucking-touchable and he knew it. When shit started going south with the cops, dad pulled back and put all that weight on me to deal with and when I wasn’t prepared to take the same deal, I cut them off. Told them to find some other gang to run their bullshit through, but they needed us so we re-negotiated the terms and I tripled the premium. It’s fucking risky, but I couldn’t make big changes while I wasn’t in power yet. If I flaked on it, the Widows would have seen me as weak so I took the deal and the DeCarlo’s owed me a fucking favor.”
“And an attack on Colton was what you decided to use that favor for?”
“Not exactly,” he says with a cringe. “You have to understand that I