09

Nico’s Point of View

I watched her run. And I knew, immediately, something was very wrong.

I’d never seen her like that. Not Missy. She was always soft and skittish, sure, but this? This was fear. The kind that came from deep inside.

I turned my head back.

Mark.

The so called king of the underground racing crew from East Ridge College.

The same smug guy we had a dozen stare-downs with before and after tournaments. I never liked him. Too slick. Too sure of himself.

But now, I realized something I hadn’t before.

He was terrified too.

“What the fuck did you do?” I growled, fists clenched at my side.

Mark didn’t step forward. Didn’t argue. His hands lifted slightly like he was surrendering to the air.

“I have to get her,” he said softly, eyes locked on Missy’s back as she disappeared through the crowd.

I didn’t care for his soft tone.

I didn’t care for him at all.

“Go to hell,” I muttered, flipping him off before breaking into a run.

My heart was pounding like crazy. I pushed through bodies, dodged between cars, trying to spot her.

“MISSY! IT’S NICO! PLEASE WAIT!”

She froze.

Then, like a glass shattering, she turned and crashed right into me.

She sobbed into my chest like the world had fallen apart. Her tiny fists clutched my shirt. She trembled like a leaf in the wind.

I didn’t say anything. Just held her tight.

“I wanna leave here,” she whispered.

My heart cracked in half.

I nodded, didn’t even question it.

I led her away from the madness, past the crowd and the smoke, down an old gravel path to a quiet field near the woods.

Me and my sister used to hang out there when we were kids back when things were simple.

Missy didn’t speak. Neither did I.

We just sat there, backs to the tree, eyes on the stars.

After a while, I felt her body lean into mine. Her head fell on my shoulder, and she finally relaxed.

She was asleep.

Finally.

I looked at her for a moment. Even now, even broken, she looked peaceful.

I picked her up, careful not to wake her, and started walking back.

My phone buzzed constantly Alex. Enzo. Her roommate.

I didn’t answer.

She needed peace.

She deserved it.

As I neared the lot again, I saw her roommate running toward us, her heels clicking against the pavement.

“My baby,” she whispered, her face melting into relief when she saw Missy safe, sleeping against my chest.

“What happened?” she asked, brushing the hair from Missy’s damp face.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

But I was gonna find out.

“We need to go to the big house. The guys are waiting.”

I nodded and adjusted Missy in my arms, holding her like something fragile and rare.

Because that’s exactly what she was.

The big house was quieter than usual when we arrived.

The others were all waiting Marco, Enzo, even the loudmouths were silent for once. The air was tense, buzzing with confusion and questions no one dared to ask yet.

Missy was still asleep in my arms, her head buried against my shoulder, face smudged with dried tears.

Her roommate walked ahead and opened the door. I stepped inside, gently, like one wrong move could shatter her all over again.

Then I saw him.

Alexander.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, jaw tight.

He didn’t speak, just walked toward us slowly, eyes locked on her. And then, just as I was stepping toward the couch, he reached out.

“Give her to me,” he said lowly, eyes never leaving Missy.

I shifted her slightly in my arms, holding her tighter, and stepped back.

“No.”

He blinked.

“I followed her. Not you,” I said, my voice cool but firm.

“You didn’t chase after her. You weren’t there when she broke down. So don’t act like the hero now.”

The silence was thick. I felt every stare in the room pinning us in place.

Alexander’s jaw ticked. For a second, I thought he might actually swing at me.

But he didn’t.

He just looked down at Missy in my arms at the way she clung to me even in sleep. Then he stepped back slowly and nodded once.

Respect, or surrender I didn’t care which.

I walked past him and laid her gently on the long couch. Her roommate grabbed a blanket and tucked it over her.

“She’s burning up,” she whispered, touching Missy’s cheek. “Might be from the shock.”

I sat down beside the couch, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor.

Marco finally broke the silence. “So… what happened?”

“I think she saw someone. Someone from her past,” I muttered.

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

I looked up. “Mark.”

Enzo cursed under his breath.

“Wait Mark? Mark Romano? From the Ridge?”

“Yeah.”

Her roommate looked confused. “But what does he have to do with her?”

I didn’t answer. Not yet.

Because whatever the answer was

it wasn’t mine to tell.