The Inner Circle - Brad Meltzer [55]
As I pass the front of the building, I spot the blur of my own profile in the reflection of the glass doors. The tuxedo cats are milling around, looking bored as they ignore me. I even see Nico’s and Clementine’s footsteps where the snow isn’t melted yet. They can’t be far.
At the corner of the building, I make a sharp left and…
Nothing.
A long alley of browning snow, a rusted Dumpster, and just beyond the Dumpster, an empty golf cart that—
Mrrow.
Cat. That’s one of the cats.
I crane my neck.
There. In the back. The tabby one.
I’m already halfway there as its tail disappears around the back of the building. As I fly past the Dumpster—
Pfuump.
A thick forearm rams my neck, hitting like a baseball bat and clotheslining me so hard, my feet leave the ground.
Keeping his forearm at my throat, Nico shoves me backward by my neck until I crash—hard—onto the freezing concrete. The back of my head hits first, and a flash of bright stars blinds me on impact.
“What’re you doing!? Are you crazy!?” Clementine shouts at Nico.
Her father smiles, heading toward me.
Before I can register anything, Nico’s all over me.
* * *
30
Wasting no time, Nico climbs on my stomach, my chest, his baseball-bat forearm now pressing like a nightstick against my neck. His breath smells like cigarettes and old coins. I try to breathe, but he’s… huuuh… huuuh… he’s on my windpipe… I scream for the guards, but no one knows we’re here.
“I heard you,” he says, completely calm as his chocolate eyes rattle back and forth, picking apart my face. “In the entryway. I hear things better than you.”
“G-Get off him!” Clementine shouts, racing out from where he shoved her behind the Dumpster. She plows toward him, ready to push him away.
“Do. Not,” Nico says, whipping around and grabbing her wrist with one hand, while holding my throat with the other. I’ve never seen anything move so fast.
Clementine thrashes, fighting to get free. No. She’s not fighting. She just wants him off her. Stumbling backward, her face goes gray and ashen like she’s about to throw up. Back at the Archives, I remember what the pop, pop, pop of the gunshots did to her. She could barely deal with that. She certainly can’t deal with this.
As she finally breaks free, Clementine falls on her ass. It shifts Nico just enough that he lets go of my throat as my lungs lurch for air.
“Huuuh… hgggh…”
He watches my face… studies my eyes as I look to Clementine…
No. I shouldn’t look at her.
Too late.
Glancing to his left, he studies Clementine, then turns back to me.
“You know him,” he says to Clementine, who’s still on her rear, crabwalking and scrambling to get away. “You brought him here.”
“I-I didn’t,” she insists. “I swear to—”
“God’s name. Don’t take it in vain,” Nico warns, his voice just a whisper.
I wait for her to say something, but from the panic in her eyes… She can’t. She’s done. There’s no reconnecting with this man. All she wants is out of here.
Nico turns, like a dog spotting a squirrel. His chest rises and falls so quickly. He hears something.
“Nico…? ” a sharp voice calls from the distance. We can’t see who it is, but the way Nico turns… Whoever’s coming… It’s a guard.
Clementine crabwalks back even farther. With a leap, Nico climbs to his feet and I get my first clear breath.
“Nico, get yer ass outta there!” a man shouts in a deep southern accent.
I stumble to my feet just as a black guard with small shoulders turns the corner.
“What the hell you doing?” the guard asks.
Nico’s eyes roll toward him, unafraid. “We were feeding the cats.”
The guard shoots Nico a look that says, Do I look stupid to you? Then he shoots us a look that says, Why’d you let him take you back there?
“Public spaces only. You know that,” the guard growls.
“We’ll just be a minute,” Nico says, gripping Clementine’s shoulder as she rises to her feet.
“Nico, hands off her. You okay there, miss?” the guard asks.
“We’re coming up front. To feed the cats,” Nico replies. “The tabby still hasn’t eaten.”
“Nico, I am not in the mood for your freakiness