Sorry for the wait on the update.

Nicky's POV

"You know," I start as I turn away from the window to look at him. "you still haven't told me where we're going."

Ryder just nods. "I know."

"We've practically been driving nonstop for three days. Are you planning on telling me where we're going?"

"What's this we? I've been driving, and we've had several breaks."

"The only reason you've been the one driving is because you won't let me drive."

"I don't want to end up in a ditch."

I glare at him. "The only reason you'd end up in a ditch is because I'd pull over and toss you in it."

"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to get back to the threats and insults."

"You started it."

I notice his lips twitch as if he's trying to hide a smile. "All I said was that I didn't want to end up in a ditch. That's neither a threat or an insult. What was left unsaid was that we'd be in that ditch because your eyesight is so horrible you'd drive us into a ditch believing it to be the road."

And the urge to hit him was back ladies and gentlemen.

"Relax matchstick," He says, his eyes never straying from the road. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

He ignores me and cranks up the music on the radio. I try unsuccessfully to burn a hole through his head.

***

"Where exactly are we?" I question as we walk through the doors into the foyer of what appears to be an apartment building.

"Come on," Ryder says absentmindedly as he starts to rifle through the duffle bag hung over his shoulder. "We're going to the fifth floor."

To my utter dismay, he pushes open the door labeled stairs instead of pushing the button for the elevator.

I follow behind him but he takes the steps two at a time with ease because of his freakishly tall height and long legs, and I'm stuck practically running up the stairs to keep up with him.

Mental note; if I decide to run off again, I'm taking the elevator.

Ryder's waiting for me at the door to the fifth floor and he raises his eyebrows as if to ask me what took me so long. "What, did you stop to count each individual step?"

I glare at him.

"Is that a no?"

I continue to glare but feel my cheeks start to turn pink. Technically, I stopped counting after the first couple flights of stairs. After that, I could figure out how many more steps there were easily.

He smirks at me and walks into the hallway with me following close behind and cursing him out the entire way.

Ryder comes to a stop in front of a door and continues rifling through his bag. His vocabulary gets progressively more colorful as he doesn't find what he's looking for.

"Ryder?" I hear someone say.

He instantly tenses and then begins to search even more frantically through his bag. His muttered curses getting quieter but even more colorful than before.

I turn to look at the cause of his obvious panic and see a young woman poking her head out of the door across from his. She's a supermodel kind of beautiful and I find instantly that I don't like her. Not because of her beauty, or because of the fact that she's dressed essentially in just lingerie, or because her make-up's flawless. Nope. It's because of the murderous glare she's sending my way as she sees me with Ryder.

Feeling in the mood for confrontation and really wanting to piss her off, I press myself into Ryder's arm. He's still too busy digging through his bag and doesn't seem to notice or care.

Her glare narrows even further as she eyes me before plastering a smile on her face and making her way across the hall and putting a hand on Ryder's shoulder.

"Oh dear God," I hear Ryder mutter as he pauses in the search for what I'm now assuming were keys to the apartment.

"Need some help?" She asks him in a voice coated with sugary sweetness and making me want to vomit. She sends me a glare as she suddenly bumps me back and out of the way, putting herself in between me and Ryder.

Oh, it's on.

My gaze locks on to her apartment. Her door has been left wide open in her haste to throw herself at Ryder. I feel like telling her that she could do better, just to grate on Ryder's nerves, but in seeing the utter panic on his face as she had approached, I decide to let it slide this time.

I look into her apartment and notice the computer set up at the desk. I reach for my phone without even realizing, only to come up empty. I haven't had the chance to get a new one yet. My eyes then lock on Ryder's phone sticking out of his pocket.

Suddenly it wasn't in his pocket anymore. Somehow it had magically moved to the palm of my hand. Huh, don't know how that happened.

My fingers move rapidly across the phone screen. I feel like laughing like a maniac when I find that nearly everything in her apartment is connected to the internet and in turn, connected to her computer and phone. All it takes from me is a few taps and clicks and suddenly she's having apartment problems. The biggest problem being the overloaded and overworked computer.

I slide Ryder's phone into my back pocket and pull two bobby pins out of my hair before tapping her on the shoulder as she continues to assault Ryder.

"Excuse me, miss?" I say, getting her attention.

She turns to glare at me, her expression murderous. "What?" She hisses between her teeth.

"I just wanted to let you know that your computer seems to have caught fire."

She whirls around to look into her apartment and true to my word, her computer is sparking and catching fire. She lets out a scream and runs toward it, grabbing a rag from the counter and repeatedly hitting at the flames, shrieking as she does.

Ryder stares at the apartment, his face contorted as he tries to decide what he should do. Obviously, he feels obligated to help her, but at the same time, he's obviously enjoying the show. Amusement seems to win out because he smiles, sticks his hands in pockets, and rocks back on his heels as he watches.

I shove him out of the way, bend the bobby pins and pick the lock on the door, satisfied when I hear the click of the tumblers as the lock opens.

She gets the fire out on her computer after tossing it in the sink and stares at it in bewilderment. I pull Ryder's phone out of my pocket and I tap a couple things once again and suddenly all her lights start flickering rapidly.

She shrieks again and tries turning them off, but it doesn't work.

Ryder shoves me into the other apartment and closes the door. He eyes me and holds out his hand for me to give him back his phone.

I look down at the phone in my hands and then to him. And then my fingers are flying over the screen once again. More shrieks erupt from the apartment across the hall.

Ryder snatches the phone out of my hand and puts it back in his pocket. "You've done enough damage," He says, but he has trouble keeping a straight face, his eyes sparkling with amusement and his lips twitching as he tries to hold back his smile.

I however, don't try to hold my smile back and smile widely. I do manage to keep my laughter in check though.

"It's not funny," He says, trying to be stern but failing miserably. He can no longer keep the smile from appearing on his face.

"No," I agree. "It's hilarious."

He smiles, puts his head down, and bites his lip to keep from laughing. He shakes his head and walks past me, further into the apartment. "I didn't see anything."

More shrieks echo from the apartment.

Ryder's hand goes to his empty pocket. He whirls to face me, a stern look on his face. Well, I think it's supposed to be a stern look, but his lips are still twitching and his eyes are lit up.

My hand is holding his phone once again, keeping it behind my back and out of his sight.

"Give me my phone carrot top."

I give him a look of utter confusion. "I don't have your phone."

"Nicky, I mean it," He says and I can still hear her shrieking, likely thinking her apartment's haunted by now. "What you're doing is completely illegal."

"You can't prove anything." Ryder gives me a flat look. I let out an over exaggerated sigh and hold out his phone to him. "Here."

He takes it and holds it up for me to see. "Would putting a password on this do me any good?"

I stare at him. "Do you want an honest answer or would you like me to lie?"

He grimaces and walks away from me, tossing his duffle bag on a couch up against the wall. I take a moment to look around at the apartment.

It's nice, clean, and bigger than most apartments. The furniture doesn't look new but doesn't appear to have been used much either. My gaze goes to a table nearby where there are pictures in frames set out across it. Pictures of Ryder and his family.

"This is your apartment?" I question, even though it obviously is.

"Yes," Ryder replies absentmindedly as he shuffles through a stack of mail on the dining table.

I continue looking around the apartment as I walk further inside. "So, if Volkov knows the FBI are protecting me, he's likely to find out about you specifically," I say as I pick up an odd looking centerpiece. "What exactly were you thinking when you decided we'd come hide out in your known place of residence?"

I can feel Ryder's glare in the back of my head as I continue to explore.

"You say that as if I'm a complete idiot. My apartment address is not public knowledge. Yes, the FBI does know where it is, but I called my dad and he's been telling everyone I'm away on vacation. He's the only one who knows we're here and if Volkov bought someone off from the FBI, they won't be learning that we're camped out here. Besides, it's only until I find a better place."

"The lair of the beast," I mutter under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," I shake my head as I pick up another picture. I look back over my shoulder at the closed apartment door. "So . . . your neighbor."

Ryder lets out a loud groan and he looks like he's in physical pain. "She's nice to look at . . . from a distance . . . of at least fifty feet."

I laugh.

"Otherwise she's an absolute nightmare," He mutters. "I've been this close," He holds up his fingers so there's barely a gap between them. "to moving to a new building."

I smile and shake my head. My gaze continues to travel around the apartment. "It's not what I was expecting," I say.

Ryder raises his eyebrows. "And what were you expecting."

I shrug as I walk down the hallway. "I don't know."

I don't hear him reply and I turn to look at him, only to see he's watching me.

"What?" I question when he still says nothing.

He looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he mutters something under his breath and shakes his head. "I'd rather not turn my back on you. I don't want to get tazed again," He says finally.

I give him a flat look. "I had a good reason for that."

"Oh?" He questions. "I'd love to hear it."

I turn away from his gaze and go back to looking at the many pictures of him and his family on the walls and I can't help but think of mine.

"It's a story for another time," I finally mutter as I tear my gaze away from the pictures on the wall. I brush past Ryder and make my way to the small kitchen.

"Please, make yourself at home," Ryder says sarcastically.

I turn to look at him. "I will, thanks."

I open up his refrigerator and take a beer out. Ryder takes it out of my hands before I can even open it. He puts it back in the refrigerator.

I let out a long breath of air. "Why?" I ask him. "After all the time I've spent with you I need a drink."

"Right back at you," Ryder says as he closes the refrigerator.

Suddenly I realize he's all too close. I go to back up and back into the counter. He doesn't make any move to back up.

His eyes study my face and he starts to lean toward me as if thinking of kissing me. And I find myself wishing he would kiss me, and then chiding myself for doing so.

No way should I be kissing him again. Of course, he is a very good kisser . . . NO! Not again. Yes, yes again.

My thoughts are so full of the possibility of him kissing me-which I should loathe like the devil-that I almost miss the words he mutters under his breath.

"I'm in trouble."

I blink a couple times as I bring myself back into the present. "What?" I manage to ask, not sure if I heard him right. Not understanding what I heard.

"I need a drink," He says instead and reaches around me to open up the refrigerator and grab a beer.

I reach my hand in to take a beer for myself but his voice stops me.

"I said I needed a drink, you weren't invited to share. I need one of us sober and in their right mind."

I glare at him. "And why can't you be the sober one?"

"Because I still wouldn't be in my right mind." The look he gives me as he says this makes my eyes widen and my heart beat faster. Lair of the beast indeed.

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Trying to get back to a regular updating schedule, but my college has started back up so no promises.