Chapter 57
FIFTY-SEVEN
NEVE
I’m deep into dreaming about cluster B personality disorders—thanks to my last final exam two days ago in Abnormal Psych—when a buzzing sound intrudes into my sleep.
A groan leaves my throat, and I hear it in reality, realizing I’m now, officially, awake.
And the buzz is my phone, right by my head, because Faust and Sylvan are an hour away for a Friday night game.
They won.
I stayed up until they went back to their hotel.
Sent half-naked photos to both of them, separately, different angles, but I’m quite certain they compared notes based on Sylvan’s complaint that he didn’t get a nipple shot but Faust did.
I told them they could fuck each other anytime they wanted, as long as they told me about it.
The vibration from my phone grows louder and I reach out with haphazard aim, my fingers curling around the sleek rectangle as I shift onto my side, drool dried on my face.
I smile to myself before I’ve even seen my screen because I imagine it’s one of the boys, and while I’ll likely sound like a toad when I answer the phone, I have to admit I love talking to them.
But when my face shockingly unlocks my phone in the darkness of my room, I realize it wasn’t a call. There are many of those, but there’s other notifications too.
A series of texts. From Faust, Sylvan, and an unknown number.
My mouth dries out, worse than it was, and it’s as if my tongue is stuck to my teeth.
My body grows tense.
I lift groggy eyes to my closed bedroom door.
There’s no light underneath the crack of it, and I know Cynthia is in her room.
Tye had an away game too. All three boys wanted to pay for a hotel for us, but the locks are changed, there’s an alarm at Blackwell’s, and no doubt the police are covertly watching this place, waiting for my brother to return.
He’s not that stupid, though, so I was able to talk Faust, Sylvan, and Tye down.
Now, unease contorts under my skin.
Slowly I sit up, not content to bury under the covers if I’m about to receive bad news. My phone vibrates again and I drop my gaze down to the most recent text from Faust, the words splashing at the top of my screen since my phone is unlocked.
33
Tell me you’re okay or I’m going to murder not just your brother but your entire family for failing to keep you safe.
My breath catches. It’s so unlike Faust to say something like that. I’d expect it from Sylvan, but not the stoic captain of the Dragons.
I don’t read any of the other messages. Holding my phone to my ear after I tap Faust’s number, I keep my gaze trained on my bedroom door.
The line doesn’t have time to ring. It just connects.
“Where are you?” Faust’s flat words, and he’s not keeping his voice down. It was nearly one in the morning from what I remember and I know the guys sleep two to a room, but I don’t pull my phone away to check the time.
“I’m at my apartment. In my bedroom.” I say it slowly and plainly. “Now tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“She’s okay,” Faust says, his voice muffled as if he slides the phone down a second to tell someone else. No doubt Sylvan. Are they sharing a room now? Despite whatever is going down, the thought makes me smile.
“I’m still waiting,” I say anyway, keeping my tone hard.
“Detective Lincoln and about a dozen local police showed up in Kawartha tonight. Swarmed our hotel.”
I swing my legs off the bed, my toes dangling over the side. Depending on what he says next, I’m going to wake Cynthia up.
“They saw Nolan on security footage in the parking lot.” He speaks softly, like he’s afraid to upset me. “He knows he’s a suspect and I don’t think he minds hurting us now.” We both know by “us” he means him and Sylvan.
I don’t move from my bed but I feel anger claw at my insides as I squeeze my phone. If my brother touches a hair on their fucking heads, there won’t be any need for law enforcement finding him, and Detective Lincoln can arrest me instead.
“Are you safe?” The words feel stuck in my throat but I force them out.
“North. For you? We’re the safest we’ve ever been. But if you hadn’t answered our calls, we would have skipped the game tomorrow.”
“When did they see him on camera? Who called it in?”
“Half an hour ago. Lincoln woke us up by pounding on our door. Your brother’s photo is handed out everywhere we are, to catch him. The security guard must have seen him.”
“That’s some hotel security.”
“It’s a five star hotel.”
“Wow. Insane.”
“I mean, yeah. Most teams don’t get it but we’re us, so…”
I roll my eyes but a smile crawls across my lips too. “I thought only Sylvan was the cocky one.”
“Oh, no. He’s just the loudest.”
I hear my blond baby curse in the background and my smile grows wider.
“Hotel is locked down. No one in or out until check out tomorrow. Coach might cancel the game, or Lincoln could try and force it, although he’d lose.”
“Because it’s you.”
“Because Peterborough U wants to knock us down a peg and this isn’t Lincoln’s jurisdiction.”
“I’m surprised he’s there at all.”
“He told the police here we were unlikely to cooperate with anyone else.”
“Probably true.”
Faust’s tone grows quiet. “Not if it meant keeping you safe. You’re having a quiet night? In bed?” he asks pointedly, and I want to torment him a little and lie but I don’t. It’s too serious.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Fuck,” he says under his breath. Then, “And Nolan hasn’t tried to contact you?”
I swallow. The unknown number. I didn’t read the messages.
“Baby. Have you heard from him?” It’s Sylvan now, and there’s urgency in his words. For some reason, Faust passed the phone to him and that must mean he’s getting anxious.
But as my eyes scan the text from the unknown number, I know he’ll have to wait a minute.
It’s Nolan. The number isn’t his, but it makes sense he’d get a burner phone. His is being tracked, I’d assume, or was probably ditched long ago.
Unknown
I need to see you soon or it will be very detrimental to everyone else.
But there’s another text, and it isn’t from him. A number I don’t have saved either, but the 919 area code tells me all I need to know, besides the fact I have it memorized.
Unknown
Be careful, Neve. I know you think I don’t care for you, but I love you. I’ve seen the news up there. Don’t go stay with your brother. If you need to, I’ll get you a flight here.
Don’t go stay with your brother.
I swallow hard just as Sylvan says my name in such a way, my heart twists.
Not like he’s angry.
Like he’s in pain.
“I’m here.” I force the words out. “I’m here.”
“He contacted you.”
Faust is silent in the background, but I can practically see them locking eyes with one another.
I slide off the bed, my feet clumsy on the floor as I try to gather my balance in the dark. Then I walk to the door, unlock it, and slowly, phone to my ear and breath held captive in my lungs, I pull it open.
Cool air glides over my bare thighs, then laces around my neck. It’s always chillier in the common areas when we have our doors closed at night, trapping the heat in.
Silence greets me. I blink a few times and from the soft light trailing in past the black blinds—Drayton never goes fully dark—I see Cynthia’s door is closed too, and further down the hall, our entrance door is secure.
The bookshelves watch me, the marble black bunnies seeming to hold their breath at my gaze.
“Tell me what he said.” Sylvan’s words are cold.
I stand in the doorway, my pulse pounding in my ears. But before I can answer him, my phone vibrates again.
Unknown
When you wake up, I’ll be there.
I swear I see a shadow pass by our entrance door as I lift my eyes from my phone, and a full body chill grazes over me.
For a moment, I can’t move, phone in hand, away from my ear. Sylvan is saying my name, but my heart is racing and fear tastes like iron on my tongue.
Then I exhale, and quick-fast head to the kitchen. The cold tiles creak under my feet as I pass the fridge. Then I pull the butcher’s knife from the block, the zing of it telling me it’s likely still sharp. Considering Cyn nor I cook, it must be.
I hold it in one hand, my eyes trained on the main door as I press my phone to my ear with my other.
“He’s coming here.” I interrupt Sylvan’s swearing at my non-responsiveness.
Then there’s quiet. The scent of old books, melted wax, and my own incense perfume fills my nose. This space. The silence.
I don’t say anything stupid like they shouldn’t come here and they should play tomorrow night.
And neither does Sylvan. “We’re on our way. Don’t you dare get off this phone.”
“Don’t I need to call Lincoln?”
“He’s here,” Faust growls after I hear the sounds of Sylvan passing it to his captain. “We’ll tell him. Text me the number, but don’t hang up.”
I nod, unseen by him, and glance down, copying the number with one hand and pasting it into a text thread with Sylvan since Faust wants to stay on the line with me.
“Sly has it,” I say softly, leaning back against the countertop but not taking my eye off the door.
What would Nolan do to me? He’s never actually hurt me. Not physically. He’s never been inappropriate in that way. Maybe he’s fucked with my head mentally but the past few weeks, I’ve not been able to reconcile his responsibility for all this murder.
Maybe it’s denial. Maybe it’s because I’m right. The only way I can find out is by talking to him.
“I’m going to kill her.” Sylvan’s words in the background, and the slice of anger in them makes me flinch.
I tighten my grip on the knife’s handle.
“What is it?” Faust demands.
Sylvan doesn’t speak and neither does Faust. Not for a solid two minutes.
I open my mouth to snarl at them to hurry the fuck up and fill me in when Faust breaks the tense silence.
“That number isn’t Nolan’s, North.”
I stand straighter, fingers stiff around my phone, the sensation of a spider crawling down my neck making me shiver in the dark.
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I trust myself to speak.
“It’s Tasia’s.”