16. Finleigh #2
“Who?” Viking looks at me, a frown on his face, causing the scar to stick out more.
“Shawn Reynolds…. How did he get a key?” I don’t know why I’m expecting an answer.
“Your dad is trying to get you to marry him. Maybe he gave him one?” Axl offers.
“Maybe.” But it doesn’t feel right.
“Vik, go ask scaredy pants downstairs.” A sick smile crosses his face as he moves to carry out Brute’s instructions.
“All clear.” Priest reappears with Izzy. They remain in the hallway as we enter, leaving the door open.
My steps go slow as I take everything in, trying to ignite the locked memories unwilling to reveal themselves.
Being here is a bit terrifying and relieving, all at once.
Wandering into the open concept kitchen, dining, living room space, tears well in my eyes when I find Flip soaking up the heat lamp on his little rock—tank clean, and looking happy as can be.
“Flip!” Rushing over to him, his eyes open for me, and I like to think his croak is one of greeting. “He looks good.”
“He’s a frog.” Brute bends over to get a better look at him. Flip shoots his tongue out, smacking against the glass. “Asshole.”
Hiding my smile as Brute backs off, Axl opens the lid and reaches inside, scooping his little body up.
If frogs could glare, he’d be doing so at Axl for interrupting his tanning session. Holding him at eye level, Axl inspects the little amphibian as he snuggles down into his palm. “Never took you as a slimy critter kind of girl.” Returning him to the tank, Axl goes to the kitchen to wash his hands.
“Me, either,” I say, adjusting the placement of a few plants in the tank. “I was lonely, and Flip was too, so it just kind of happened.” There’s no regret about it, either. “Is he going to be a problem?” My chest squeezes uncomfortably just thinking about leaving him behind.
“No.” Brute still glares at my leaping friend. Relief knocks the weight off my shoulders. “He can come.” His head tilts as his lips curl. “Prospects will have fun figuring out how to keep him happy.”
Shaking my head as I move around the room, I try to find anything else familiar. A spark of joy or anger. Everything feels…foreign. Though pictures on a corner shelf by a window grab my attention.
Picking up a gold frame, my fingers trace across my face.
I’m smiling into the camera, with a graduation cap on my head, and the gown undone, revealing me in a cute, floral-patterned corset dress, landing at my knees.
Next to me is Nora with a matching smile, in a white, striped maxi dress that brushes her ankles.
We’re happy and obviously celebrating at our college graduation two years ago.
Me with an art degree, and her with a master’s in history. She wants to become a history teacher.
“We’ve been inseparable almost our entire lives,” I murmur, placing the frame back on the shelf and grabbing another one. Same setting, but with two other women. “My sisters, Bridget and Nicole.”
“You have sisters.” Axl seems surprised as he comes near, gazing at the picture with me. “You could be triplets.” I agree; our resemblances are eerily similar. “How many years apart?”
The casual question sparks a flurry of information.
“Bridget is the oldest at 28. She’s married now and has a two-year-old son.
Her husband got offered a job in England last summer, so they live there.
He’s in finance. I was always too bored to learn more about it.
” Laughing, I recall the one time he tried explaining what he does; I had a headache afterwards. “Math and I are not friends.” I smile.
“And Nicole?” Brute asks.
I turn to find him sitting on the sofa that took me three months to pick out. He nearly occupies the entire space.
“Nicole is the middle child. 26, single, enjoys driving our parents insane by not settling down, and has spent the last four years traveling around the world. She’s a photographer and is building her portfolio.
She’s in Indonesia right now, I think.” Though, looking down at her mischievous eyes in the photo, I realize, “Or maybe she’s not. It’s been a while since we’ve spoken.”
“How come?” Axl grabs another picture, frowning at it, before handing it to Brute.
“Service is usually spotty where she travels, so she’d email when she could, but with everything going on, it’s been longer than normal.
” The muttered words make me wonder if Nicole has messaged, and then I question if the timing of my attack was done by design.
“Everyone who would have cared about me is traveling. Nora, Nicole, Bridget…they wouldn’t have a clue I was in trouble. ”
Noticing how my men are looking at each other, I recognize that they’re thinking the same thing. Sighing, Brute gets to his feet and asks, “Do you remember any interactions with Shawn Reynolds?” The man I’m supposedly engaged to.
Inhaling, my body continues to fight me, but not as ruthlessly.
“I was his…arm candy at a charity gala once. He was handsy and drank a lot. I tried to avoid being alone with him all night.” He had horrid breath, too.
Laughed too loudly at disgusting jokes, and his wandering eyes started the minute we walked into the ballroom.
“We think he’s the reason behind your attack.
Indirectly, at least. His cousin was assaulted by a state trooper who was extorting her for sex.
Shawn was a standup guy for about five minutes as he got the trooper fired and charged.
The man spent six months behind bars and hasn’t been quiet about wanting revenge.
” Brute’s explanation makes my stomach roll with dread.
Handing me the picture Axl had given him, it’s from the night of the gala. Only I hadn’t put it up there. I didn’t even want it taken. “He left this here.” I storm into the kitchen and smash it into the garbage can, the shattering glass startling in the otherwise silent room.
The violation is excruciating to process. Breathing erratically, my hands slap onto the counter. I slam my eyelids shut, and my brain churns with unwanted emotions.