In Too Deep

Thirty Nine

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Different things were going on in her mind when she stopped at his front door and knocked on it, holding a bottle of wine in hand and wearing a giddy smile on her face. But it was the knowledge that she hadn't fucked up that still kept her on her feet, the relief and longing that she felt seeing herself standing in front of his door and realizing that she had missed him. She had truly missed Vicious. She couldn't hide that feeling, not even from her face.

When she knocked, there was no answer. On her way up, she had seen his car, so there was no reason to think he wasn't home. Nova knocked again, and this time when she knocked hard, the door creaked and opened slightly.

The door was unlocked. She rolled her eyes at how thoughtless and careless Vicious was, not locking his door despite knowing the danger in that. Someone could sneak in and kill him or rob him blind. She couldn't wait to lecture him on how important it was to keep himself safe.

Walking into the house, she went ahead to search for him after locking the door behind her. He wasn't in the living room or the kitchen, so he had to be in his bedroom. She crossed to his room, found the door slightly ajar before she pushed herself through. The lights were off. The room was dark, but the curtains were drawn, so moonlight peeked through the bedroom, enveloping it with light. Nova could barely process what she saw. Vicious sat on the floor next to his bed, his knees pulled up to his chest and his white shirt smeared with spots of blood. Her heart leaped up into her throat.

"Vic?" she managed to whisper, setting the wine on the top of the drawer as she started to approach him cautiously.

He refused to move from where he sat, his eyes fixed on some distant point. He looked like he had been through some hell. His eyes were ringed with red. He had cuts on his fists, and blood dripped onto the ground. He didn't blink. Instantly, her heart lurched. Something must have happened. Mario didn't tell her anything had happened. He didn't mention any of this.

"Vicious," she called his name again with a silent whisper, breathlessly closing the distance before she sank to her knees in front of him. "Vicious, talk to me."

Once again, he wasn't moving or reacting. Nova's hands came to his face, cupping his cheeks. She forced him to look her in the eyes, and when he did, she could see how his hazel eyes were glowing intensely.

"Talk to me. Is something wrong?" She was pleading. She was aching so much in her heart.

Then, tears fell down his open eyes.

It shook her to the core, trying to push her off the edge. Vicious was crying, something he had never done before, and it was more than she could bear to see him in so much pain. A part of her had died seeing his tears. The strong Vicious, her Ghost, the ring leader of a gang who was ruthless to the core, was crying, and she had no idea why.

Nova threw her arms around his neck, shaking. This was new to her. Usually, he would have been the one to comfort her, but she didn't know what to say. She was out of words.

Vicious' weight collapsed on Nova, catching her off guard, and they fell backward. She lay flat on her back, and he pulled her close, breathing harshly on her neck. She could feel how fast his heart rate was going, and she feared that it might burst. Nova wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tight as he was holding her. His entire body trembled and shook with force, but he wasn't crying. She felt like a knife was buried in her chest, directly on her heart, and someone was turning the blade. The only thing she could do to keep from screaming her frustration and her pain was to hold him.

"Shh, I'm here. You've got me." She stroked his hair, not minding that his weight could literally crush her. Vicious was barely allowing her to breathe, gripping her so tightly. "Do you want to talk about it?"