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Did he think I’d be holed up in some ritzy hotel while I was hiding away from the mob and the law? By the looks of him, he could probably afford it, what with the Rolex gripping his left wrist and the leather jacket that is in no way faux.

“Please. Just let me leave.” I try to reach for the doorknob behind him, but he arches a dark brow at me.

A chill runs down my back like ice being dragged along my spine at his look. I drop my hand back to my side.

“I told you not to do anything stupid, didn’t I?” he questions, moving into the kitchen area and opening the fridge.

It’s empty aside from a can of Diet Coke and a package of American cheese.

“I didn’t do anything stupid.” I thrust my chin forward, as though it’s some great shield. If I look like I’m brave, maybe the feeling will follow.

“You ran away.” He shuts the fridge. “Again.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“It is.”

“No. It’s not.” I fold my arms over my chest.

“Alexander made it my business when he tasked me with finding you and bringing you home.” He opens the one cabinet in the kitchen.

Whatever he’s looking for, he won’t find it. Other than a can of green beans I was going to have for dinner tomorrow, there’s nothing in there.

“I don’t know any Alexander.”

“He’s helping your friend, Megan.” He shuts the cabinet with another frown.

“Why is he helping her? Is she okay? What happened?” If Megan’s been hurt because of the mess I’m in, I’ll never forgive myself. Her only crime was having me as a roommate.

She’d warned me about Nico. Told me countless timesthat I was falling too fast—again. But I’d pressed on, sure Nico was on the up and up. I’ve never been more wrong.

I can’t let her pay the price for it.

Rurik moves into the living room area, also known as my bedroom. The pull-out couch is still open from the nap I was able to sneak in between shifts today.

“She’s safe.” He opens the door to the bathroom and peeks inside.

“If she’s safe, why are you here?”

“To bring you home.” After finishing his inspection, he turns his full attention to me.

I close my eyes a moment, wishing him away. If he would just go, I could figure out what to do. I’ll need to get in touch with Megan and find out what’s happening.

But when I open them, he still standing there. Taking up all the space in the apartment, glaring at me.

“I don’t want—” I stop. Swallow. “I mean, I can’t go home. Not yet.”

“Yes. Alexander told me about your trouble with the DeAngelos. But you need to come home. Megan hasn’t heard from you in months, and she’s worried.”

“Hasn’t heard from me?” I drop my bag at my feet and pull out the burner cell I’ve been using from my side pocket.

The last text I sent her was two weeks ago. It shows as delivered. Megan keeps her read receipts off so I can’t tell if she actually read it, though.

I flip the phone around so he can see. “I messaged her weeks ago, like I’ve been doing.”

He leans forward enough to see the screen. “The money she was expecting from you hasn’t arrived either.”

“No. No. That’s not possible.” I swipe the messaging app away and open the email I’ve been using. “No, I wired the money. See. I wired it.” I find the email confirmation from the Western Union I use in town.