Page 14 of The Red Room
SIX
Smile.Just smile, nod, and don’t open your fucking mouth and ruin this. Sound advice. Who knows what the hell might come out if I did say something. Not that I think I could. Nik continues to stare into my eyes, a bearded grin reaching for his ears.
“Are you ready?” he asks and guides me up the first couple steps.
No.No I am not fucking ready to be alone with this man. The same aroma of cedar lingers out of his partially open collar, and the scent alone is enough to make me float up the entire staircase to Völk. His hair is different tonight, not draping down each shoulder, but pulled in a bun while the top is combed and less wild than before. He doesn’t look like the rugged Viking I’ve met a couple times so far. No, tonight, Nik looks tame. A far cry from the animal I saw last night when he threatened to cook that man alive like a freaking hibachi chef.
He opens the door and gestures me inside. I’m immediately greeted by the energy of the club. Lights flash. The bass thrums through the floors. People. More people than I’veever seen fill every inch of this place. Him saying the club has done well must’ve been a humble admission. It’s no secret the party scene flocks to Völk, but it would appear as though word has gotten out to the tourists as well. I stare in awe, taking in the room with an amazed expression. Nik places his hand around me and over my hip, his touch swaying my attention.
“This way,” he says and nods at a staircase leading away from the club. “I have a surprise for you.”
I nod and follow his lead, carefully taking each step despite the shifting lights of Völk making the climb difficult. The door at the top looks like it was pulled from the hull of a submarine. Whatever is behind this vault, Nik doesn’t want people getting it.Or out, the irrational part of me intervenes.
“Where are we going?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He tilts his head. “You’ve seen the club. Maybe it’s time for something different.” He thumbs a combination of numbers into the keypad, and I can’t help but watch.
Eleven. Seventeen. Zero. Eight.Not sure what the numbers mean but he types them so fast, I almost miss the final two digits. What he said repeats in my head.Something different.Different how? We’re still in Völk, what could possibly be on the other side of this impenetrable door?
An audible chirp. Gears crank. Bolts slide and unlock. Each hollow noise cramps my stomach inch by miserable inch.Here we go.This is where the rug gets pulled out from under me, and everything I thought I knew about this man will be wrong. It’s happened before, but never to the extent of a guy turning out to be a serial killer and taking me into his secret murder room.Imports and exports?Does that include exporting my goddamn kidneys? Panic keeps me in place, and part of me refuses to take another step in.
“It’s okay, Natalia,” he says and extends his hand to me. Something flashes in his golden eyes. Something alluring, magnetic, and fucking irrefusable.
I shake off the war raging in my head and take his hand reluctantly.Breathe. You can do this. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s probably just …
My breath catches. “Holy shit …”
This isn’t some sick torture room, it’s a loft. An upscale loft suspended above the dance floor of Völk. Large glass windows extend across each wall overlooking the entrance, the bar, and even the DJ booth at the far corner. Small ceiling lights shine to the granite countertops in the kitchen.Mine are only a cheap laminate.His? The real fucking deal.
Glancing down, I practically see my own reflection in marble floors as I take another step inside. A plush black couch rests against one of the windows, and in the center of the room, a dining table.A dining table for us.Plates, napkins, and silverware are set neatly in front of each chair. Two candles flicker in dancing flames, highlighting the otherwise darkened areas of the room I scan cautiously.
“What do you think?” he asks while closing the door and sealing us in. The club music dampens but my heart continues the same fast beat of the song in my chest. Maybe it’s soundproofed? Who knows. But now I am locked in a glass box with Nik, a candlelit dinner, and enough nerves to make me want to puke at any moment.
“It’s—it’s perfect,” I sputter.
Nik leads me to the table and pulls out a chair for me. “Please,” he says softly. “Sit.”
I do as he asks, a newfound nervousness taking hold of each limb.Sit up straight, Natalie. Sit straight and smile.
“After last night,” he continues from the counter, his back to me. “I figured we could both use a night a bit less …”
“Chaotic?” I finish and bite my lip. If I can’t keep myself from talking, I’ll just have to bite back the words instead.
Nik chuckles, a low growl leaving his throat. “Exactly.” He turns toward me, a bottle of wine in his hand.
I glance at the table. Two glasses sit on the far end, both reflecting the candles at the center. There isn’t a bottle opener, nor is there a knife to pry out the cork.
His eyes glow even brighter somehow. Not from the candles, but as if his eyes are lighting the room themselves.
“Don’t you need a—”
Nik cocks his brow and silences. Without another word, he digs his thumb into the bottle neck and pops out the cork as easily as someone might uncap a beer.
My eyes widen, and my jaw hangs incredibly low. “How? How in the hell did you do that?”
One side of his face crooks up into a smile. “Old party trick my father taught me,” he says and tilts each glass while pouring the bloodred wine gently. Nik hands one to me and swirls his around, taking a moment to smell it. “Pauillac twenty-ten. I hope it’s to your liking.”
I can’t help but notice the way his rolled-up sleeves tighten under the stress of his flexed forearms. Small traces of black ink seemingly sway in the muscles just below his elbow. I’m stuck wondering what might hide beneath the rest of his shirt. How far do the tattoos travel up his large arms? It’s an honest thought, one that has me blushing and sitting a bit straighter.