Trusting Nicole (The Last Hangman MC #4)(31)
“How about you let me be the judge of that?”
“I’m not willing to risk losing you.”
“So you’d rather lie to me about everything than be upfront and honest with me?” I ask him in total disbelief.
“I suppose.”
“Great.” I sigh and go inside. I knew I should have dropped it and kept my f*cking mouth shut.
“I want to tell you, but I can’t bring myself to.”
I’m going to hate myself for what I’m about to say to him, but the words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
“I’ve had men lie to me before, some of them were even pretty decent guys, but in the end they were still dishonest about the things that mattered most. I’m giving you the opportunity to be a better man and be honest with me, or you can be a coward like the rest of them. What will it be?”
CHAPTER 10
Jason
I look at her, stunned. Talk about an ultimatum.
Jenny gave me a few but I never caved or really cared. This time, I have so much more to lose. I walk around her in the kitchen, take a bottle of whiskey, two glasses and two beers. I lock the door, turn off the lights downstairs and head upstairs with Nicole following close behind. All that without saying a word. I don’t trust myself not to snap at her for no reason, she deserves to know, I just hate being put on the spot.
She looks at me in confusion when we reach her bedroom, no doubt thinking I just want to f*ck her. Sex is the last thing on my mind at the moment. I pull the covers back and help her onto the bed, open up the beers and hand one to her. I join her in bed and look up at her.
“You want the short version or the long one?” I say before I change my mind.
“The long one.”
“Why did I even ask?” I chuckle without humor. She holds my hand in hers. Her perfect porcelain hand against my tanned battered one.
“It all started when I was four and I saw my parents being murdered.”
“Wait. What?” She looks at me eyes wide open, obviously not expecting this kind of opener. Always start with a bang right?
I nod. “I don’t remember much about that day. We were having dinner at the dining room table as usual. We didn’t have many traditions but one thing we always did was have dinner together. No matter what happened, we’d make time to have at least half an hour together every day. That night was like any other, nothing out of the ordinary. We were almost done eating when the doorbell rang. It wasn’t unusual for our neighbor to come ask for something around dinnertime. She was a single mother trying to raise her four kids and she more often than not would forget to get pasta, rice, sugar or something else and Mom would always give it to her. This time wasn’t like the others though.
“Mom came back in the kitchen but she wasn’t alone and she wasn’t with our lovely neighbor. Two armed men were with her, to this day I still don’t know what they wanted from my parents. I can’t remember what was said, it was so long ago and I was so young, but the next thing I know Dad is arguing with the men and one of them is holding a gun against Mom’s temple. I remember being a crying mess and Dad yelling at me to go upstairs, but I was frozen to the spot. One of the two men yelled at Dad that he had messed with the wrong person or something like that and then he shot Dad and then Mom. They both fell to the ground, Mom fell on top of the table, pulling the table cloth down with her. The food went everywhere, mixing with her blood.
“I stood there, crying silently, begging for Mom to wake up but it didn’t happen. The two men left me there, in the middle of the kitchen with my dead parents. I remember sitting on the floor and waiting, all the while clutching my teddy in my arms and crying. I was just four. I had no idea what to do and no one to go to. I was lost and soon realized that it wasn’t a nightmare, that it was my reality, that I just witnessed my parents get killed and never got to say goodbye to them. I don’t know what happened to their bodies. I don’t know where they are buried and it still kills me to this day that I wasn’t able to do anything to save them.
“I sat on the kitchen floor for hours until I heard noise from the front door. Someone came in and kneeled down in front of me. They picked me up and took me with them. That man is the one you talked to on the phone today. He took me back to his place and basically raised me. To this day, I still don’t know why, I don’t know how he knew I was there on my own and I don’t know why he took me under his wing and raised me like I was his son, but he did. I’m both forever grateful to him and hate him at the same time.
“My parents were very loving and caring, with Sergei, it was the opposite, there was no love. I had no idea what his job was but he was always home, always shouting at one person or another, giving his orders. I guess it was better than being in foster care or living on the streets. When I turned fourteen, I was home alone one day or so I thought. I wanted to explore the place. I mean the house was huge, a real mansion with more rooms than he could ever need. The upstairs was pretty normal, a bunch of bedrooms and bathrooms, offices and closets, things like that, nothing out of the ordinary except for two rooms that were locked up. One was Sergei’s office and the other one I never found out about. I never was able to pick the lock, which still drives me insane to this day. It requires a code and I don’t know it.
“Downstairs was pretty much the same. I did find a door that was locked. I had started to pick locks with the help of Nikolai, one of Sergei’s men. I picked that one and walked down stone stairs. They led to the basement but it wasn’t your usual basement. There were a couple of rooms and like upstairs, most of them were unlocked except one. I took my chance and picked the lock. I wish I hadn’t. When I walked in the room, all I saw was blood tainting the walls and the floor. There was a single chair in the middle of the room and metal binds attached to it. The back wall was covered with an assortment of weapons. Guns, knives, machetes, pliers, shears, anything that could be used to torture a man. That’s when I found out what and who he really was.