The Heart's Match

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Nessa

Brian Carmichael is nowhere to be found. And I know in my bones that it's my fault. That whatever is coming, will be on me. I'm the reason Sean was needlessly stabbed. I'm the reason Liam's twin is now openly after us.

Granted, it's not like Brian Carmichael has a lot of power right now. Still, you can never trust unhinged people to act accordingly. He could do something dangerous. Something truly stupid. People backed in a corner often do.

I make it my mission to find Brian. I won't ask for help because I can't bring myself to do it. Right now, he's somewhere in hiding. He'll want revenge. He'll want it on my brothers and me. Mostly me, I think.

I'll do just about anything to get Sean and Ronan to stop looking at me like I kicked their puppies.

I feel like the world's biggest fuck-up.

Luckily, I'm able to sneak away Saturday night for some clearing of the head. I ride out to Promontory Point on my bike. The late spring air feels good. It almost makes me forget how badly I dropped the ball.

I park my bike at the same lookout spot Damien and I rode out to months ago.

I take my helmet off and revel in the silence of the night. I inhale the sharp air and close my eyes. I imagine what it might be like to have some control over my life. I need to be more strategic. I need to think more. Be more like Ronan. More like Mira, Sean, Viv...all of them. I'm missing something. I just don't know what.

My thoughts are broken when I hear the sound of another bike approaching.

I straighten in alert, ready to peel out if I need to.

When I see Damien Yenin's bike round the corner, I can't fight the way my heart starts racing faster. The way I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up – but in a good way. Which might be worse than if they would in a bad way.

He stops beside me and cuts his engine.

Slowly, Damien removes his helmet.

"Malenʹkaya lʹvitsa," he nods.

"Lucifer," I nod back.

He grins a bit.

"Are you really not going to tell me what that word means?" I ask annoyedly.

"I told you to Google it," Damien's grin widens.

"I am not a very good speller."

He barks out a laugh, which honestly surprises me. The rare occasion Damien is smiling or laughing, it's typically with pure malice and psychopathy.

"I feel like I should give you a Russian nickname. It's only fair."

"Alright," he nods. I watch with morbid fascination as he runs a hand through his unruly black hair. "What do you have in mind?"

"How can I trust you won't give me an improper translation?" I tease.

"I can't lie, remember?"

I scoff. "I still don't believe that."

"What's with you? You don't have a phone? Look it up."

I grin, "It's more fun this way. Alright," I clap my hands together and clear my throat. "What's the Russian word for...dickhead?"

"Pridurok," he says in Russian.