Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
I t had been nothing short of a miracle that Scarlett had finally drifted off to sleep and, now that she had, Kyle was trying to formulate a plan. He understood her feeling of helplessness, but he also knew that she had other options to consider, even if she hadn’t been able to see them earlier.
But he’d filled her belly with good food and then they’d made love. He brought her to climax and afterward held her close, running his hand over her hair and back until she’d melted into him, her breath soft and quiet against his pec. When, much later, he’d been able to get her to roll over and he’d held her back against his chest, he’d begun running over ideas in his head.
If she absolutely had to leave in the morning, she would take his car—and he didn’t want to hear another word about it. She would be borrowing it. Later on, they could trade again or she could just leave it somewhere. He didn’t give a shit. He just wanted her safe—and to feel safe. Being in a different car would do that.
The first thing he wanted to do was see a picture of her ex—the guy named Tommy. He had no idea what the guy’s last name was. All Kyle knew was he was from Pueblo. And Scarlett’s real name was Melody, and Melody’s last-known address was also in Pueblo…so he’d start there. Plus she’d said her ex had had some run-ins with the law, including jail time and possibly drug charges. And, of course, there was the murdered woman whose ring he’d pilfered.
Kyle had a lot to work with—but searching for information like this wasn’t like anything he’d ever done before.
Worried she might wake up if he got out of bed, Kyle simply rolled onto his back and pulled his phone off the nightstand. He decided to start searching with what he thought might glean the most obvious information, so he searched for “robbery murder in Pueblo.” The first result was a short video by a local television station on YouTube about a homicide under investigation. Then there were several news articles, one about suspects arrested for attempted homicide, another about four people arrested in a robbery and attempted homicide, and one for a “man identified as suspect” in several armed robberies…nothing he was looking for.
Kyle realized immediately that this particular search was a rabbit hole that could lead nowhere. After all, the guy was probably not a suspect, considering he was running around threatening people.
But he had been in jail—and the way Scarlett had talked, he was a criminal, so Kyle assumed the guy was pretty familiar with the inside of a jail cell.
Now he was inspired.
This time his search was simple: Tommy arrested Pueblo . And he was shocked at the amount of results he got. The first simply mentioned that two men were charged after a fentanyl overdose incident inside the Pueblo County jail earlier in the year. Scarlett had said Tommy sold drugs and had even been put in jail for a drug charge, so Kyle clicked through. But the guy whose name was Thomas had to be in his forties—and, although Kyle didn’t know everything there was to know about the woman sleeping next to him, he couldn’t imagine her with the guy on the screen. She’d called him a “bad boy ” lots of girls found attractive—she’d never hinted that he was a silver fox. Although he would keep this article in the back of his mind, he was going to keep digging.
The next was about a suspected murderer, but the victim’s name was Thomas.
There were so many promising articles but, when he clicked through, time after time, he knew one after the other was a dead end, and he was ready to give up again. The last link he almost ignored…but he clicked through anyway. It was to a post on the Pueblo Police Department’s Facebook page, and the link—six years old—said Tommy Nogales arrested after forcing his way into home . Kyle clicked through and read the old article that was accompanied with a picture. The man was twenty-three at the time and had been arrested for breaking into his ex-girlfriend’s house. Kyle sat up straight, trying to find out who the woman was, but it didn’t say. It only mentioned that the house was on Denver Boulevard in Pueblo. He took a screenshot of the guy’s face just in case.
Hoping he was on to something, Kyle did a lot more searching for this particular guy’s info and found his name attached to a few petty crimes—not just six years earlier, but even more recently. Kyle discovered that Nogales’s ex-girlfriend, the one in the Facebook post, later claimed that he had not broken in the house. Instead, she said, they’d had an argument and she’d called the cops, trying to get him into trouble. So she had charges against her but Nogales came out smelling like a rose.
Kyle had a feeling this was the guy. After everything Scarlett had said, he felt right.
So Kyle returned to Facebook. Tommy Nogales—the guy in the picture—had a profile and he had some friends, but he didn’t appear to do much on the site. His wall had a bunch of posts telling him Happy Birthday but not much else.
Except there was one thing…one huge thing that caught Kyle’s attention.
On the left, it said he was in a relationship . Although there was no link to the person the guy was in a relationship with, Kyle hoped he could figure it out. He clicked on the Photos tab—and he hit paydirt. One of the first pictures was this guy in a picture with a familiar-looking young woman with vibrant red hair. She was cuddled up next to him, holding a phone to take a selfie. When Kyle clicked on it, the picture was taken by a woman named Melody Morton …and she looked just like Scarlett, except her hair was much longer and she wore more makeup in the picture. The caption said, “Celebrating one year with my baby!” That had been two years ago. In the picture, she seemed happy…but Nogales did not. In fact, he was almost scowling—but Scarlett had tagged him in the photo. Smart.
This was the guy for sure. Tommy Nogales.
Curious, Kyle clicked through to Melody’s profile. That name still seemed so unfamiliar and strange to him, but he would have to get used to it, considering it was her real name. Sure enough, she hadn’t posted a thing since last spring, although some people posted birthday greetings and also a couple of posts asking where she was and what she was up to. He started scrolling through her photos and saw a few with her ex and shouldn’t have been shocked to see that the guy never smiled. What an idiot.
Kyle beamed when he was next to her. He just couldn’t fucking help it. This guy didn’t deserve her.
Almost an hour later, he found himself growing drowsy, but he got up, checking the door and peeking out the windows before curling up next to her. He had an idea he wanted to run past Scarlett— Melody —in the morning…but, first, sleep called.
It was still dark out when Kyle awoke. The woman he now knew as Melody had turned on the bathroom light and left the door open a crack, just so a little light spilled into the room.
And she was packing again.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Um…” After a second, she said, “Almost six.”
As he sat up, he stretched his back and let his eyes focus in the almost-dark room. He realized she had a towel wrapped around her head like a turban, meaning he’d slept through her showering as well. Some protector he was turning out to be. “I thought we were gonna talk before you decided for sure.”
“Kyle, I really appreciate everything you have done for me and want to do for me—but I’m not safe here.”
Sitting on the side of the bed, he grabbed his jeans off the floor and started pulling them on. “Have you even had coffee yet?”
“No.”
He pulled the curtain back on the window and could feel cold seeping through the pane. “Isn’t there a coffee shop around here?”
“Um, yeah. Quick Drip is catty-corner from Tequilaville.”
“Okay,” he said, pulling his t-shirt on. “Let me just grab us some coffee. Then if we talk for five minutes and you still wanna go, you’ll at least have some caffeine for the road.”
He could hear hesitation in her voice. “How fast can you be?”
“Uh…what time do they open? If they’re closed, I can run to Starbucks.” Surely they would be open by now.
“I’m pretty sure they open at six.”
Kyle picked up his phone to check the time, relieved to know that they’d be open by the time he got there— if they opened this early. “Do you have a favorite latte or do you just want regular coffee?” Thanks to dating Hayley all those years and her job as a barista, he at least knew there was a large variety of different concoctions coffee shops liked to create.
Again, there was hesitation in her tone. “I guess a mocha would be nice.”
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.” He threw on his jacket and started to leave the room. “Do you want to prop the chair back under the doorknob?”
“Yeah, I better.”
The main living area was darker than her bedroom because less light shone out there from the bathroom—but Melody already had her phone flashlight at the ready. Kyle said, “Is there a certain way I should knock or anything to let you know it’s me when I get back?”
Now he could hear amusement in her voice. He took it as a good sign. “Just say your name. I’ll know.”
“Oh, yeah. Makes sense.”
He pulled the chair out from against the doorknob but then, as an afterthought, he drew her close and held her tightly to his chest. Even through the towel, he could smell the scent of the shampoo she’d used, a light, fresh, floral scent that stirred something inside him. He wanted to keep her safe, to do whatever he needed to make her feel protected. He knew he was on the clock and that if he didn’t hurry, she’d leave regardless, but he hoped he could go for a few minutes without her bailing. Then he kissed her on the forehead. “Be right back.” As he pulled the door open, he asked, “I’ll wait until you tell me the door’s good.”
“No, go ahead. Just hurry, okay?”
Never had he bounded down a flight of stairs so quickly. Once out on the sidewalk, he pulled his jacket tighter around his frame and looked around, trying not to make it obvious with the motion of his head what he was doing: looking for suspicious characters. The only car he saw running was across the street in front of the coffee shop—and the lights on in the business told him they were definitely open.
It was a relief.
Although he had to wait in line behind one other person, the barista made the coffee quick: a mocha latte for Melody and a regular coffee for himself. When he spotted some delicious-looking scones under the glass, his stomach rumbled—and he bought a couple of almond and two blueberry ones, hoping Melody would like one of them.
It was still fucking hard thinking of her by that name.
If he hadn’t been carrying two hot coffees, he might have run back to her place, but he had to balance the tray while also carrying a bag—only a challenge when he had to pull the door open to the apartment building. But he had assured himself that there was no one watching the place—the few cars parked along Main had plenty of frost on the windshields and the temperature was well below freezing. If someone were spying on her, their windshields would be clear.
Once at her door, he held the bag in the same hand as he held the coffee tray so he could knock. “It’s Kyle.”
But there was no answer. Jesus. Had she left already?
He realized, though, that there was no sense panicking. He waited a few more seconds and then knocked again, this time using the side of his fist so it would be louder and firmer. He knocked longer this time and then, at the end, he repeated his name.
Still no answer.
Setting the bag and coffee tray on the floor, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. She hadn’t sent a text message, so he called her number without a second thought. But instead of answering, she pulled the door open. Already she was dressed, her damp hair combed out. He picked up the bag and tray and came through the door, setting the items on the table. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. I was just blow drying my hair.”
“Want me to put the chair back?”
“No, I got it.”
“I don’t think anyone is out there watching your apartment. At least, not right now. There weren’t many cars parked along this part of Main and the ones that are have a thick layer of frost on ‘em.”
She nodded. “Then I guess I could turn this on,” she said, pushing a tiny button on the hood of the stove, suddenly illuminating the kitchen area.
As he handed her the mocha latte, he said, “I also got us breakfast. Not the healthiest, but they looked damned good. Scones—would you rather have blueberry or almond?”
“Oh. I want both.”
Kyle grinned—but it was immediately followed by a pang of sadness. That had been his exact thought at the coffee shop, which was why he’d bought two of each—and when she’d said what he’d thought, his brain had noted yet another way they were compatible, even if it was something small.
And she was ready to flee from it all.
But he kept his exterior calm. “Good, ‘cause I got two of each.”
“I guess I could sit down a minute.”
Kyle liked that idea. They could talk for a bit before she ran away.
After taking a sip of the latte, she said, “This is so good. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. Just…enjoy.”
“Okay. After I dry my hair, I’ll pack the last of my stuff in the bathroom, and then I just need to take the luggage to my car.”
Kyle found he wasn’t really hungry anymore. “Have you thought about taking my car?”
“I hate to do that to you.”
“If you have to leave, what good will it do you to be in a car he can find again?”
“Yeah, I know.” She pinched off a corner of the scone and chewed on it quietly.
And Kyle was hit with inspiration. “How much have I told you about my brother Liam?”
“He was in your band—kind of the leader, I think—and he died last year of a drug overdose. It really messed you up.”
“Yeah. Well…I haven’t even told you the half of it. His death really fucked me up…because I felt responsible.”
She placed a hand on his, and he relished the tenderness. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
“No, if there’s anyone I want to tell this to, it’s you.” The truth was that the more he could open up, the more he would be able to forgive himself, to let it go. Although he still had a long road ahead of him to do it, he’d already felt better talking about it with his therapist. There was probably only one person he didn’t think he’d ever be able to talk to about it, and that was his mother. Since Liam’s death, the chasm between them had grown too wide, too deep, and he could feel her accusations and all the blame every time he was around her. If he were to heal, he’d have to do it without his blood family’s involvement.
Melody, though…he’d never felt judged by her—and if anyone needed to hear his story, it was her right now.
“I’d always looked up to Liam, but I guess I never really fully understood him. That was something else I had to grapple with—knowing that we can never completely know someone. Or, I guess, we can only know them as much as they’re willing to let us in. It wasn’t until after he died that I realized he’d been in a lot more pain than I’d known. It wasn’t something he talked about.
“When he started using heroin, I just thought it was like everything else we’d tried. You know, playing around with different drugs to see how they made us feel. Only Liam never moved on after that. Heroin became his drug of choice, and he started using it more and more. And the more he used, the less connected I felt with him. And, for some stupid reason, I thought getting stoned with him would bring us closer.”
Kyle was quiet for a little bit, trying to think what he wanted to tell her. After all, the only other person who’d heard this story was his therapist, and she was bound by confidentiality. Telling someone outside her office seemed scary—and yet, with Melody, it felt right.
Melody.
As if she could sense his thoughts, she said, “I think that’s human nature. You know…our commonalities bind us.”
“Goddamn. That’s profound—and you’re right. I mean, everything I did as a kid was a tribute to Liam. When we were younger, he’d get pissed at me for copying him but he didn’t care so much when he got older. I even started smoking because of him.”
“You smoked?”
“Yeah—up until, like, right before our first date. I’m trying to get rid of all the negative shit in my life. Anyway…Liam was an addict, and I was right there behind him. He’d started by smoking it, but then we started injecting it, because the high came faster—and, at first, it was more intense. But it got to where that’s all we wanted to do. We’d get through the day just so we could get high at night.
“And we never talked about it.” Kyle let out a long breath, because this was turning out to be harder than he’d expected. “Anyway, we got high one night and I crashed in his room. When I woke up the next morning, he was dead.”
Melody squeezed his hand but didn’t say anything. Somehow, it gave him the strength he needed to keep going.
“My mom put me in rehab…and I’m pretty sure she couldn’t actually afford it, but she did it anyway. I was so fucking pissed. It was the day after Liam’s funeral. The place was pretty structured. I don’t remember much about the first week, except that they were getting me through withdrawal. We had all these what I called ‘talking meetings,’ and I’d just clam up. I didn’t want to be there and I didn’t want to talk.”
This was the part he needed her to hear, so he paused and looked in her eyes to make sure his next words had the effect he hoped they would. “I might have been inside a building, but I was running. I was running from the truth, from my fears, and from reality. For the longest time, I just wanted to get high again—and maybe even follow Liam’s path to the grave. But one morning, I woke up after a dream I can hardly even remember now. Liam had been talking to me…and he was telling me to live. So I let it all sink in…and I stopped running away.”
But even as he saw Melody processing his words, he realized that he was still running from one other thing: his mother. He had yet to face her in a meaningful way—and all this time, he’d put the blame completely on her…but maybe it was on him as well.
He couldn’t deal with that right now. He had the more pressing matter of his girlfriend.
“I can’t tell you what to do, but what kind of life will it be for you if you’re constantly on the run?”
Her response was immediate. “Eventually, they’ll lock Tommy behind bars for something. It’s just a matter of time.”
“So you’re okay running until then?” Kyle examined her eyes, even while noticing the way she’d set her jaw as if in defiance.
“That’s not what I said.”
“But that’s what you’re doing. I know in your mind you think that’s your only choice, but my therapist has shown me that we always have a choice.”
Melody frowned. “And I’m choosing to live by getting as far away from Tommy as I possibly can.”
“You’re right. Running is a choice and I get it. But if you’d rather stay here, I can help you figure it out. Have you ever thought about going to the police and telling them what you know? Wouldn’t that help them build a case against him so they could get him in jail sooner?”
The war inside her was evident on her face. He could tell that part of her liked the idea. What she’d been doing since coming to Silver City couldn’t have been easy or stress-free—and doing what he was proposing wouldn’t either, but it might allow her more freedom in the long run.
“Maybe—but that could totally backfire.”
“I’ll go with you. I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.” Her brows furrowed as she shifted her gaze to the table. Then he said, “I love you, Melody…and I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone.” Not even Hayley. He’d loved her, yes, but it had been different. “I don’t want you to go. And if you find it inside yourself to face this, I’ll be there by your side.”
When she looked up at him, Kyle was certain she was going to tell him she was leaving.