She’d never been closer to asking Nic if she meant something to him. Her breath hitched on the exhale, waiting for his answer.
He waited so long that heat burned a path from her neck to her cheeks. Stupid. Of course not. We don’t care about anything, right? She turned away, pretending to be engrossed in what the man on the river did, and that Nic’s silence meant nothing to her.
“When Bones brought you to us, I thought you looked like a drowned kitten.”
She could feel him smiling, and she let herself relax enough to exhale. He was still talking to her as he always had.
“You were a spitting, angry, scared kitten who scratched anyone who came near. You were so small—five, I think. I know you still think about the first night every time we go back through that door.”
“Yes.” Her pulse thumped dully in her ears. She didn’t know that he knew that.
Nic reached out and slowly twined his fingers through hers. “I remember the panic when I realized you had not brought anything back that first day. I tried to keep an eye on you in the square. I half expected to find you trampled at the end of the day.”
Arista hated the memories that slammed into her head. She’d been so helpless and scared.
“I remember you gave me what you’d taken and then got hit for it.” Emotion swelled inside her throat. “I thought you were just a mean boy, but you weren’t. You saved me that night. I would have died if I’d been put inside that room for one more day.”
“I know.” He grew quiet again, but he kept his fingers wound through hers. “I thought you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.”
Arista glanced over at Nic, but he looked out across the water now, as if back in that moment. A small smile played over his lips. He wasn’t just toying with her, feeding her a line like he did with the brothel girls. Heat pooled in her stomach. She had never dared to ask him.
“I hated the idea of him putting his hands on you.” His grip tightened painfully around her fingers, but then slowly relaxed. “I begged him to let me teach you how to steal. I was the best at it, you know. I’ve always looked out for you, gypsy—not because I had to, but because I wanted to.” His voice lowered and grew thick with the rough accent of the streets. The warmth of it sank deep into her bones. He was familiar; with him, she felt safe. Her fingers tingled where he touched them. His thumb stroked the back of her hand in lazy circles, and a shock of heat raced up her arm.
They’d never had a conversation like this before. He’d never touched her so deliberately before. Her pulse leapt. “Do you think we’ll ever get away from this?” Neither of the orphans had ever spoken of escape.
Instead of answering, Nic scooted back until he leaned against a mooring pole, then pulled her back to rest against his side. One arm curled lazily around her shoulders. “Where would you go, gypsy?” His finger danced up her arm, leaving a wake of goose bumps. She liked this side of Nic. A lot.
Though she spent almost all her free time at the docks, watching the ships come in and out of the harbor, she knew very little of the world outside London. Only the bits and pieces of talk bantered about by the sailors that constantly filled the docks. India. China. The Caribbean. America, even. They sounded so exotic and wild.
But going anywhere, even getting to the outskirts of London, took money. It was nice to dream about running away, but without the means, she would not get far. Plus, she was a commodity that Bones would kill to keep. Becky and Nic, not so much. She could not risk their lives for frivolous thoughts of escape.
This was her life.
She shook her head. “There is nowhere.”
Nic leaned down until his lips brushed across her ear. “What would you say if I told you that Bones has grown so afraid of the Thief Taker General’s ever-expanding reach that he has cut ties with most of the men in his employ for fear of betrayal? What if I told you I am one of Bones’s last confidants, and I know where he now hides his money? That I can get to it? Where would you want to go then?”
Icy fear sliced along her spine. Was he really thinking about stealing from Bones? If he got caught, he’d be killed without a second thought. Bones was swift and cruel with retribution; Arista had seen it firsthand many times. It was how he ensured complete loyalty among his men.
“There’s a board in his office, under the chair by the stove. If you pry it up…”
Arista spun around and covered his mouth with her hand. “Stop.” Her plea came out as a whisper, like Bones himself might hear them talking. Men had been gutted and left to bleed for far less.