Vendetta (Blood for Blood #1)(24)

“In my family, when we turn sixteen, my uncle gives us a switchblade inscribed with our name and our birth date,” he went on, sounding surer of himself. “It’s something his father, my grandfather, used to do, and so he does it for us. It’s just a family tradition.”

“It strikes me as a little unsafe.” I didn’t try to keep the judgment out of my voice.

Nic shrugged, and in a quiet voice he conceded, “Yes, you could say that about Felice.”

“Feh-leech-ay,” I repeated, dwelling on the leech part. It suited a knife giver. “I got earrings for my sixteenth birthday. No weapons, though.”

Nic dragged his thumb along his bottom lip, and I found myself fixating on the way he nipped at it with his teeth.

I shook the thought from my head, and stepped away from him again.

Focus.

“I saw you pull this out during your fight with Alex,” I said. “Were you going to — ” My voice wavered. “What were you going to do with it?”

“Nothing,” he said with so much conviction I almost felt compelled to believe him. “I would never use it on anyone, especially not your friend’s brother. But I thought if he saw it he would back off and leave my brother alone. He had already knocked Gino out, but he kept coming back for more. He was so competitive, so angry that we had won, and so convinced that we had cheated. I just wanted to get rid of him before the rest of my brothers got involved.”

“So you were going to threaten him with a knife?” I asked, disbelief dripping from my voice.

“No,” Nic faltered, shaking his head. “Not like that. I just, I don’t know. I was trying to defuse it …” He trailed off.

I had to fight the urge to take his chin between my forefinger and thumb to hold his gaze still enough that he’d level with me. Was this the truth or a well-versed lie?

“Why do you even carry it around?”

“It’s hard to explain,” he replied, his expression suddenly sheepish. “I guess I carry it so I can feel protected, and so I can look out for my brothers if I have to. Ever since my father died, it’s been hard for all of us. It changed us. It changed me. I don’t know this place or the people in it, and I’m so used to having the blade with me for a sense of security that it’s like second nature to keep it in my pocket. I don’t really feel safe without it.” He swallowed hard, burying the emotion that was causing his voice to falter. “I know it’s a strange way to cope with something like that, but it helps me.”

The knife suddenly heavy in my hand. “I didn’t know that.”

Nic shrugged. Another flash of lightning lit up his face, and I could see it was bleak with the memory. He slumped backward against the door, his stance defeated. Whatever game of truth we had been playing, I had won, and I felt queasy because of it. “It is what it is,” he mumbled.

I had to look away from him. I had felt those feelings of grief and sadness, wallowed in them, even, and for what? A father who deserved to be where he was, and who would come back to me eventually. I knew there were things about Nic that might make him bad for me, but there were things about his life that he couldn’t change, and that didn’t make him a bad person, either. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“No, I’m sorry.” He straightened up abruptly, as though someone above him was pulling him by strings, and the vulnerability drained from his posture. “I was an idiot to pull that knife out, but I wouldn’t have hurt Alex with it, I promise. I would never do that. Please let Millie know that, too.”

“I didn’t mention the knife to Millie,” I said, my stomach twisting with guilt. It was a telling revelation.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

“Alex didn’t see it, and I didn’t want to make the whole thing worse. Besides, he texted me afterward saying he was sorry things got so heated, so I thought we could all just chalk it up to an isolated incident that got out of hand and maybe you could both just move past it.” I spoke quickly, mashing the words together. Suddenly my cheeks felt like they were on fire. I didn’t tell Millie everything. Did that make me a bad friend? Or just an idiot? Because despite knowing I shouldn’t care about Nic, I did, and even though I was trying to avoid him, I had been hoping to see him — to give him the chance to explain.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I’m sorry if I scared you and I’m sorry I lied to you about it. I thought it would be easier, but I knew afterward it was the wrong thing to do. I wanted to come and talk to you about it.”

“So that’s why you’re here?” I asked, wondering about the timing of his late-night visit.

Nic smiled, revealing a wedge of white teeth in the dark. “You got me.”

I stashed the knife back in my bag and moved to peer through the diner door as he had done, not because I thought there was anyone inside, but because I was suddenly feeling shy and I didn’t know what else to do.

“Can you get in?” he asked.

My wet hair swung around me like strings as I shook my head. “Everyone else has gone home.”

“Maybe I could do something.”

“Could you teleport me into my house?”

He took an uneven breath, and coyly he asked, “Do you want me to try?”

“To teleport me?”