Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
THIS IS THE WEIRDEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE.
Dash
Mmm. Slowly easing into the day. That’s my favorite way. I’m usually startled awake by the stupid siren tone on my cell phone. I chose siren because I already hate it, which means it makes the perfect alarm.
This morning, though, is one of those rare mornings where I groggily come to consciousness with half a hard-on and what feels like the coziest spot in my bed.
Stretching my feet, I can’t quite find the curved edge of the mattress. Hmm. Must be close to the headboard then. Slowly, I reach above, connecting not with the wood headboard to my bed but?—
“He’s waking up,” Sterling declares as he lowers my hand—from his lap—back to my stomach.
Sterling is in my bed? I bring my fists to my eyes, urgently rubbing away the traces of sleep, eager to see what I somehow forgot.
“You okay, Dashy?” Juniper’s melodic tone sweeps over me, intensifying what I thought was just a weak morning wood. Stacking myself on my elbows, I twist until I’m sitting upright on the—couch. I’m on the couch at Juniper’s.
Because I blacked out.
Because— “You really did?” I ask in spite of my hoarse voice and dry mouth.
Her face is heavy with sadness, dark crescents beneath her eyes, her drying hair frayed from running her hands through it. I’ve never seen Juniper this way. Concerned. Afraid.
I think about all the times she called the station, checking with dispatch to make sure I’m okay when I wasn’t quick to respond to her texts.
How she stocks us with our favorite jams, even if it’s not on her monthly menu.
The way she brings Sterling quarts of fresh milk from Hudson’s farm every other day. He loves milk. She makes a special trip.
This isn’t a woman who would kill… for no reason.
Surely, if she had a reason, it was a good one. Or, a bad one? Depending on which way you look at it, I guess. I take a deep breath and exhale it slowly between my barely cracked lips. I don’t want Sterling and Juniper to know that I just clawed my way through a panic attack.
Slowly, I pick my words and deliver them, chin up, shoulders back. “I need to know everything, Juniper. Right now. Every single detail.” I nod, finally finding Sterling’s gaze.
Strain bands the length of his jaw, and his throat bobs. The cataclysmic nature of the situation hits, but I’m not surprised to find that Sterling and I stand on the same side of things. “That’s right, sweetheart. We’re with you. But we have to know everything.”
She nods, but a tear slips past her lashes, streaking down her cheek. She swipes at it, smearing it away, casting her fear and hesitations aside. With a deep breath, she places her hands on her knees, sits up straight, and faces us, splitting her glances. “The strawberry flasher was number ten.”
A woozy feeling, like going upside down at the carnival with three corn dogs and a churro in your stomach, washes over me. And when I reach up and swipe my hand along my forehead, I find a lot of sweat there. Like, turn down the interrogation light and let me explain levels of perspiration.
“Dash, sip that water,” Sterling says, pointing to the open bottle of water that somehow appeared in front of me. I reach for it and take a sip, embarrassed for my inability to have control the same way he does. How he stays so calm, cool and collected, I don’t know. I admire it though. I admire him.
A few sips of the water slows the urgent dizziness, and after I finish it, I feel much better. Stroking my hair from my face, I face Juniper, finding comfort as I look into her eyes. “Number ten?”
She nods, glancing between us. “Ten.”
Facing Sterling, I stare at him. Study every single thing he does. The way his eyes stay devout on mine, no doubt trying to find a clue as to how to calm me down. I stare at his lips, wondering if it’s discipline keeping them straight and unmoving, or if I’m alone in my daydreams. “We’re going to be okay,” he says quietly, almost spoken the way a lover teases an intimate promise.
I’m going to make you come so hard tonight.
I can’t wait to wake up with you in my arms.
We’re not going to get arrested as accomplices to murder.
My mind is reeling, emotions spinning as I shake my head. “Why aren’t you at all freaking out about this?”
He shakes his head, pushing a callused, worn hand over his head, sifting his fingers through his silky strawberry hair. Watching him do innocuous things has become nearly painful at this point. “My folks are gone,” he says, studying his socked feet as he speaks. I take the opportunity to glance at the floor, where all the dirt we tracked in is gone. Something weighty twitches in my core looking at him tonight. His hazel eyes come to mine, wide and serious. “You and Juniper are my family. So if she’s going to go down, I may as well go down too.” The hefting ridge of his shoulders rise and fall, as if his choice to potentially go away for life is nothing. Easy. “I don’t have anything without the two of you.”
I can hardly think. I can’t speak. I don’t even know if I can breathe.
But he turns to face Juniper, hedging on as if he didn’t just say the most impactful thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Juniper’s eyes are misty as she lovingly gazes back at him. I’ll never be able to shake the image of them together, so perfect, her slight feminine frame curved into his larger, mountainous build. The wind picking up the ends of her hair, the crown woven with flowers. Her feet would be bare, and he’d have her pregnant in the first month. They’d be perfect together.
“Tell us about all ten, if you can. If it’s too much tonight, we can start with strawberry guy.” He glances my way, telling me things with the way he dances his eyebrows and glares, mouthing things I can’t read because my head is in the clouds.
“Yeah,” I say, taking the cue. “All ten. I want to know who they are, what they did and how you… did it ,” I continue, the ominous tone of the situation crashing back into me. “Tell us everything, Juniper,” I press, more out of my own anxiety than anything. I believe she will tell us everything.
And maybe I’m afraid of that just as much.
Juniper moves around the kitchen, putting on another kettle, pulling a pie from the fridge.
“Juniper, sweetheart—” Sterling says, my groin throbbing at the way he sounds calling her sweetheart.
“Trust me. You need something in your stomach, and it’s gonna be at least an hour.” She produces a notebook and pencil from the junk drawer beneath the archaic landline tethered to the wall. “Wanna take notes?”
“Fuck no,” I snap back, panic rattling my throat. “I mean, that’s incriminating. Unless you burn the entire notebook immediately after, it’s too risky. And if you burned it, there’d be no point.”
She puts the notebook back and smiles sweetly at me. “Noted—no notebook.” She lifts the foil back from the pie. “One slice or two?”
This is the weirdest night of my life.
But I’m also hard as a rock, and my blood has never pumped so fast. I’ve never felt so alive. I feel like I’m closer than ever to having something tangible with Sterling and Juniper. And that’s not something I ever believed I’d have access to. I never even thought I’d get to shoot my shot.
Now I’m not so sure.
But it comes at a cost. Or so it feels. “One for me,” I say, knowing Juni is right. When I worked in Riverside, I saw some shit while on duty. Having a little something in your stomach when approaching details of death is a good idea.
“You?” she asks Sterling, who is leaned back just slightly, arms folded over his pecs. He was watching Juniper, and that’s another thing I’ve come to love. Watching Sterling watch Juniper.
“Two, sweetheart.”
God, he has to stop saying that. We move from the couch to the barstools, sipping the hot cup of tea Juni poured. She settles in, sliding us each plates of pie.
“Please tell me you won’t hate me,” Juni whispers as she readies herself to come clean, pushing her hair off her face before dunking her tea bag forcefully.
“Impossible,” Sterl reassures.
“I love you too much to hate you,” I admit, because that’s the truth, no matter how aware of it she truly is or ever becomes.
“Okay,” she says, tears stinging her eyes. “Number one.”