Page 63 of The Devil's Playground

So was her key card to my place, but that didn’t stop me from dashing home anyway to check once I also got confirmation that Nic walked out of the club alone. Not only that, but everyone on staff knows better than to let Kieran Alfieri in. I’ll have Tanner check security footage just in case—but, first, I needed to find my girl.

She wasn’t at my home. Hoping like hell that meant she returned to the only other place in Springfield she felt secure behind her camera, I headed right for her mother’s house.

My heart skips a beat when I see the living room light on.

I park my car in the middle of the street. I’m usually a lot more careful than this. When I was watching over Nic… I did everything I could to keep from catching her neighbor’s attention.

Not tonight. Not when I’ve spent the worst fucking forty minutes of my life, worrying about her. Even if what Chloe said was true, even if Nicolette got food poisoning from lunch or something, it doesn’t matter. She could’ve contacted me.

She didn’t.

I thought I made it clear. From the moment I called her mine, I meant it. It doesn’t matter how fucking busy I am or what I’m doing. My phone is on. Even if I missed a call, the second I was free, I’d get back to her. But I didn’t have a single missed call from Nicolette, and she vanished on me.

Maybe if I wasn’t waiting for Alfieri to test my hand. To leave the safety of the East End and try me. I specifically didn’t mention the little problem I’m having with one of his enforcers to Damien over dinner today. I figured, if the head of the Libellula Family knew what kind of game his enforcer was playing, he might slip up. If not, I don’t want to fill him in in case I have to take care of him.

I should’ve known better. Damien didn’t give anything away, and my hands are still tied when it comes to that bastard.

And now, while I was busy playing nice with our rivals and the mayor, something set off Nicolette?

I’m a fixer. Goddamn it, I’ll fix this.

I leave my car at the curb, right in front of her house. It’s in direct view of her surveillance cameras so, if she’s watching them, she’ll know I’m here before I get to the door. The air bites as I slide out of the car. It’s only as I stalk toward the front door that I realize I left my suit jacket behind somewhere.

Oh, well.

I grab the doorknob. I’m not super surprised that it’s locked, though I had hoped Nic saw me coming and let it open. It’s not. I rattle it to get her attention, then wait a few seconds. When she doesn’t call out that she’s coming, I raise my voice and shout, “Nicolette? I know you’re in there. Open up. It’s me.”

No answer.

Fuck no. I slap the door with the flat of my hand. “Nic, baby? I’m not playing. Open this door or I’m going to open it for you. Okay? Don’t lock me out. Not me.”

Still nothing.

Well. She can’t say I didn’t warn her.

“On the count of three, I’m gonna kick the door down. I’ll replace it, but if you’re in trouble, I’m not staying out of it. Yeah? Yeah. Okay. One. Two?—”

The doorknob rattles from her side. “Holy shit, Royce. Don’t kick it. I’m trying to get it unlocked.”

I clench my teeth and step away from the door, waiting for it to open.

When it does, I walk right inside before she can stop me before whirling around on her. My mouth opens—and not a single damn word comes out.

Up until the moment I arrived at her house, I knew there had to be a different reason. Whatever happened, it wasn’t what she told Chloe. I was sure of that. But when I see her red, puffy eyes—signs that she’s been crying—and her damp hair, fresh from a shower, my gut twists.

She’s trembling, hugging her middle, and while I could maybe try to pretend she really did come down with a stomach flu or something, it’s in the way her bottom lip quivers. It’s not because of the way I came storming in here like a bat out of hell, either. Something happened. Something bad.

And I must’ve made it so much worse by acting like a fucking maniac.

“They told me you were sick. I was worried. I’m sorry?—”

“Miles Haines assaulted me,” she blurts out. Four words that stop me dead in my tracks as she lifts her hand, covering her mouth.

“He what?”

She gulps, and her trembles turn to undeniable shakes. At first, she doesn’t say anything else, just gestures at her throat. Before, I only paid attention to her puffy eyes. Now? I see marks on the sides of her neck that are obvious scratches. Beneath them, a few bruises are already beginning to form. Assault… he obviously hurt her.

But when I reach for her and she flinches, I know the truth.

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