His to Steal

Ch. 13: Reckless (Part One)

Nicolai

Well, Juri finally decided tonight was the night.

I'm "ready" to work at the flagship location of Wicked Sins. Luckily, it's the middle of the week, so Sutton isn't here. At least I don't have that to worry about. The last thing I want is for her to see me in her father's club. She really might lose her shit on me, blow my cover, and then I'm really fucked.

But being here at all isn't fucking fun. I'm constantly reminded of what it was like to be a part of her life. Really be a part of it, not in the fucking shadows like some ghost of the past who's come back to haunt her.

I drag my hand absently along the wall, and when my fingers cross an uneven place in the wood, I pause and take a step back.

Carved into the wood under my fingertips are seven letters that bring a lump to my throat, making it hard to breathe.

"Psst! Nicolai!"

I turn around to see Sutton standing in the doorway to the stairs leading to the basement of the club, beckoning me over.

I flash her a smile, look side to side, and when I'm sure no one is paying attention, I sidle over to the door. Leaning against the wall, I whisper out of the corner of my mouth, "Sutton, what are you doing? You can't be up here, y'know."

She elbows me in the ribs. "You're only seventeen, big boy. You aren't really supposed to be working here, so what's the difference if I come up there? I'm almost fifteen."

I turn to face Sutton and give her a quick onceover, my gaze snagging on her tight cutoffs and lowcut top she's wearing. "First of all, you aren't almost fifteen. You're fourteen and a half. Second of all, there's a lot of really gross men in this club, and they won't look at you like you're fourteen and a half. I don't want to have to murder someone today."

Her cheeks flush, and I can't help but notice how the pink underneath the freckles make them look like little flecks of chocolate on strawberry ice cream. I take a deep breath and shake my head, trying to clear the thought from my brain, but it's only replaced by another, even more inappropriate thought.

I wonder what it would taste like to kiss her.

"Nicolai?"

"What?" I say, too loudly, obviously, because she jumps. "Sorry, sorry, I was zoned out. What did you say?"

"I see that. I asked when you would be done for the day because I'm getting bored."

"Oh." I check my phone and tilt my head back and forth. "Half an hour, maybe?"

She nods. "Okay..." Her eyes roam over to the carving I etched with my pocketknife a few summers ago. "Hey, remember when we did that? Dad was so pissed."

I laugh and run my fingers over it. "NM + SB = BFF. I can't imagine why he didn't think that was appropriate for a strip club."

She giggles. "He's no fun." She clears her throat. "Um, can we watch a movie later?" She twists her fingers together like she's nervous about asking me. It's the cutest thing I've seen in a long time, and there's no way I could say no even if I wanted to.

Which I don't.

"Of course, mala tigrica. You pick this time."

She does a little fist pump and starts toward the basement, but then she turns and says, "Why do you call me that? Mala tigrica? What does it mean?"

I smirk. "I'll tell you when you're older."

Dođavola, I wish every single day I hadn't let fucking Jason intimidate me into leaving her behind. Why did I ever let on that I knew anything about anything? But after I confronted Jason, he played dirty, used the only person I had besides Sutton who gave two shits about me as a pawn to keep me quiet and get what he wanted.