Page 17 of Secrets

I step backward, gesturing for him to come inside. “That’s kind of you.”

He huffs. “Well, she also started a show she only watches at night and it’s gotten pretty good.”

This coaxes a genuine laugh from me as I lead him to the counter. “Smart.”

Niko silently agrees before lifting a hand to place it on the counter as I grab his order. His posture is tense, his lips moving back and forth over a grimace. There’s something much more than the standard fatigue that comes with pulling an all-nighter bothering him, but I don’t pry. If someone doesn’t willingly want to give me information, it’s not for me to know.

Besides, I’d rather not get myself even more involved with the Babins than I already am. “Sunflowers as well?”

He blinks twice before nodding and accepting the small brown paper bag I slide across the counter. When I come around to pull flowers from the row of vases, he clears his throat.

“You haven’t heard from my brother, have you?”

I shake my head. If he doesn’t know of his brother’s latest request from me, I’d rather not be the one to tell him. As long as I’ve worked with Nikolai, I’ve found he doesn’t enjoy it when Alexi tasks me with anything that could impede my botanical services. “Should I anticipate hearing from him?”

Nikolai’s silent for a moment, waiting as I pull his usual order for his wife. He doesn’t speak until I’m back behind my counter, arranging the bouquet on top of the butcher paper.

“I just…” he trails off, running a large hand through his hair. It flops over his forehead, making him appear more boyish. More innocent. As if this city’s poison wasn’t made from the very breath he and I both exhale. “He’s getting himself in pretty deep with this capo we still don’t know a lot about, and then there’s this agent situation. I just don’t want to cause you more trouble than I already have.”

A small grin curls the corner of my lips. “Don’t waste the stress on me. You know I am more than capable of handling whatever is brave enough to show up on my doorstep.”

His responding nod is almost unperceivable. “I know you can. I’d just rather you didn’t have to.”

Niko’s ability to be kind, empathic, and a vicious murderer rolled all into one has always baffled and surprised me throughout the years. Minus the killing, he actually reminds me of the blonde agent. She, too, is quite a conundrum. It will be such a shame to see the light flicker from her eyes. So unlike the delivery boy, who’s still warm under my workbench.

I blow out a breath as I recall the tasks I’ve yet to get done because of said body. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know, but you’ll call me if he contacts you?” Nikolai looks as if he’s ready to start a war if I tell him anything other than yes. So I do.

“Of course.”

He lingers a bit longer before finally accepting my answer. His shoulders relax as his lungs seem to fully expand and part of me—a small part—feels the heavy weight of what I assume to be guilt.

Luckily, it fades as he turns, packages in hand. “Come by and have dinner with me and Dominique sometime, yeah?”

“Sure.” I nod, telling him another lie.

Even if I deliver the agent’s head on a silver platter, I somehow doubt I’ll be breathing much longer than her. Though from what or why, I still don’t know.

It’s merely a feeling that hasn’t left me since I laid eyes on her.

Okay, I’ll admit it. Fikes isn’t the worst guy in the world. In fact, to anyone else, he’d probably be the perfect trainee. He’s reserved, observant, knowledgeable, inquisitive, and even a little funny. But to me, he’s nothing but a road block. A deterrent. The unknowing babysitter that is allowing my uncle to sit back and relax, confident I’m not toeing the line and instead being perfectly compliant.

Unfortunately for him, though, I’m good at finding loopholes. In this instance, it’s that I don’thaveto spend my hour lunch break with Fikes, and because of that, I’ve managed to slip off to make the quick drive over to Georgia. Being close to the border, it’s only a twenty-minute trip, giving me plenty of time to get to the manufacturer, scope it out, and be back before anyone is the wiser.

Since the other possible place is deep in South Carolina, it only makes sense this is the one Alexi’s using. I’m sure with a little light surveillance and vibes alone, I’ll be able to confirm it, and can simply pull a couple of all nighters to stake things out, see if I can catch a live transaction. What I do after is still in the air. But hey, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

The robotic voice of my GPS prompts me to turn and ironically, it’s over a long bridge that connects the two states.

A weathered rectangular sign indicates when I cross over into Georgia, and right at the end of the bridge, another—this one much bigger and gaudier—welcomes me to Noxus City.

What I can only describe as post-hangover nausea bubbles erupt in my gut as I enter the town I once enjoyed visiting.

For a short while, it served as an escape to the ever-present cloud of grief that hung over me. Allowed me to breathe without being able to still smell my mother’s perfume. Hug someone without wishing it was her arms that were wrapped around me.

And I cherished that.

No, that doesn’t sound right. Maybe the right word that I continuously come back to is addicted. I was addicted to the temporary high, the faded memories, and dulled emotions. I was starving for something other than fucking depression, and the one thing Alexi Babin did was keep me fed.

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