His to Steal

Ch. 26: Snap (Part One)

Only I don't feel trapped at all.

The wind is whipping my hair in front of my face, and I wish I'd pulled it back into a ponytail, but Nicolai looks perfectly tousled, his hair blowing gently in the evening breeze.

"So, what did you want to talk about, Sutton?" he asks, studying me with those hazel eyes that cut me to the bone.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," I say, wringing my hands in my lap.

His eyebrows furrow. "Sorry? What for?"

"I overheard you and Jason arguing. Well, not all of it, but I heard the part where he brought up your mom."

Recognition crosses Nicolai's face and he nods once. "Ah. I thought you may have heard that. He was loud enough to let the tenants below know our business."

"I still think you might have misunderstood the photo thing." He opens his mouth to protest but I shake my head. "I don't want to talk about that. Not right now. I'm an adult at this point and nothing is happening with him anyway. What's important is that I believe you. About what he said. And I should've just believed you from the start. I'm sorry, Nicolai," I say, my throat constricting with the shame I feel.

He's quiet for a moment, and I wonder if he's going to accept my apology. My heart pounds and I am ready to accept my fate when he gets to his feet and sits right next to me on the lounger.

Pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he turns my face to his. "It's all right, mala tigrica. I'm not angry with you."

"You're not?"

"No," he says, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. "How could I be? All I've wished for since that day I left was for us to somehow reconnect again. And then when I actually saw you at the club, I thought I was dreaming. Then everything that happened afterward was a fucking miracle. No matter if it did start with sa—" He pauses and cuts his eyes away from me, and my heart seizes in my chest as he drops his hand and balls it into a fist against his knee.

"Wait. What were you going to say?" I ask, cocking my head to the side, my mind reeling. Was it actually...

"N-nothing," he stammers, and I know then that I'm right.

"Nicolai Branka Marković, tell me," I demand, turning all the way to face him, pulling my legs underneath me, my knee resting on his thigh.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath. "It was me. That night when you were ambushed. I was the one on the bike that shielded you from that fucker."

"Oh my god, I knew it," I murmur.

His eyes search mine. "You did? How?"

I gently grasp his wrist and turn it over, running my fingertips over his tattoo. "I saw your purple phoenix. I'll never forget when you got that tattoo and told me the story behind it. I thought it was too much of a coincidence to not be you...and I always did have a—"

"Sixth sense when it came to me," he finishes, looking back up at me with a softness in his eyes that I haven't seen there since that night in the park.

"Yeah," I whisper, tucking my lips between my teeth. "I just knew it was you. I hoped so much that it was you."

He swallows, and I watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "It was me."

I move my hand so my palm is resting against his and intertwine our fingers. "Something bad could've happened to you. Those guys weren't just fucking around; they were targeting me."

He shakes his head and grips the back of my neck, bringing our foreheads together. "I'd never let anything happen to you, Sutton. I'd die first."

My breath catches in my throat, and I whisper, "Nicolai—"