“Whoever he is, we need to find him, and fast.” Because my gut told me it was only the beginning.
“Where’s Nic?” I shifted the subject to safer shores.
“Where do you think?” Matteo’s eyes rolled. “They’re still in the honeymoon phase.”
“Lucky for him.” My eyes flicked down the hall once more. “I met him,” I added.
“Met who?”
“Who do you think? Luca.” His name soured on my tongue.
“Oooh. And?”
“He’s not the right guy for her.”
“Is anyone?” His brow arched with amusement.
“Nora deserves…” I swallowed the words. What was I saying? She deserved a lot of things. Things I couldn’t give her. So who was I to stand in her way and ruin her shot at happiness?
“Jesus, cous.” Matteo got up. “You’re a real fucking idiot sometimes.” His hand landed on my shoulder as he passed me. “Enjoy the couch.”
Matteo disappeared down the hall leaving me with… Tristan.
“What?” I barked at him as he peered over.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He got up and took off down the hall too, leaving me all alone.
It was barely even nine-thirty, and everyone had fucked off to bed. I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and finished up the meal Nora had made for everyone. Trust her to play mother hen. I didn’t know why she had to do that, be so fucking good all of the time. My fist clenched around the fork.
By the time I was done, my mood had turned pitch black. I rinsed my plate and left it on the side, grabbed a bottle of whisky from the cabinet and the stack of blankets someone had left out, and made my way to the couch. It was a sectional big enough for two people to sleep on, but it wasn’t a bed.
Fifteen minutes in, I was beginning to think I should have taken Nora up on her offer. But no good would come from being in the same room as her. She was pissed. And it was only making me even more pissed.
Fucking women.
My old man might have been a traitorous piece of shit, but he wasn’t wrong about women. They were nothing but a distraction.
I didn’t bother pouring myself a glass of whisky, just drank straight from the bottle. I would have killed for a blunt, but Nicco didn’t like us doing that shit around the girls, and I wasn’t a total asshole.
The sounds from whatever action movie was playing on the TV became white noise as the burn from the liquor flooded my senses. He was out there, plotting his next move, biding his time. And I was here, hiding like a pussy. Between Nicco, Matteo, Tristan and the security team posted outside, the girls were safe. No one was going to get to them. I could go after him. It was a better use of my skill set being out there, hunting for him, than sitting here drinking my feelings because I couldn’t get a hold on all the anger and guilt gnawing at my fucking soul.
I drained the whisky, letting it douse the fire inside me, replacing it with a simmering heat instead. My body slouched further into the couch, my thoughts becoming a jumbled mess of blood and death and destruction.
Until eventually, the darkness consumed me.
I woke with a start, my body caked in sweat.
“Fuck,” I rasped, my throat as dry as the Sahara Desert. The open fire roared still, but someone must have turned up the thermostats because the place was like a furnace.
Slowly, I sat up, rubbing my head, trying to ease the pounding in my skull. My eyes landed on the empty bottle of whisky and I groaned. Not my best idea ever. But at least there had been no nightmares. And if there had, I couldn’t fucking remember them.
I went in search of water, stripping out of my sweater and jeans as I went. I was half-tempted to go outside and cool off, but I knew if I took one step outside, whoever got the night shift would alert the rest of the team and then everyone would be awake.
So I decided against it, slipping into the bathroom at the end of the hall and splashing some cold water on my face. It wasn’t so warm at this end of the cabin which made me think that maybe I had been having a nightmare after all. My skin was feverish, and my heart was racing like I’d just run a marathon.