Chapter Eleven #2
Meanwhile, Dianne goes into detail about her darling homicidal son’s most admirable qualities.
How he played football in high school and volunteered for a local charity fundraiser.
The way he would mow an elderly neighbor’s yard when he was younger.
And hasn’t he been assisting with the prison literacy program for the last year?
My favorite stalker, Laura, stands beside her future mother-in-law with her hands clasped tight and a beatific smile on her face.
She’s just that sweet and sincere, apparently.
The white sweater dress and silent stoic pose is a great aesthetic.
This shit is probably going viral on social media.
Seems my cousin’s death is just adding fire to the #justiceforryan movement.
How low do you have to be to hijack a woman’s death for your own agenda? Assholes.
“Smart of them to let her do the talking,” I say. “Dianne has a background in local politics and knows how to spin.”
Hana gasps. “Did you see that? Someone’s wearing a Team Sidney t-shirt in the crowd!”
“Ha. They are so on my Christmas card list.” My smile isn’t big, but it’s there.
And its presence makes me feel like I am betraying Grace.
I kind of want to throw something at the screen.
But the only person that might hurt is me.
And the TV of course. The way my emotions are all over the fucking place.
I feel guilty and angry and a hundred other things.
None of which are doing anyone any good.
What we need to do is find out who killed my cousin.
“They went to the trouble of either taking her to the same park or luring her out there where Briana Petersen was found. Why use a different method to murder her?”
“Strangling someone with your bare hands takes strength,” answers Muriel. “The ability to subdue them and keep up the pressure. Brain death takes five or so minutes.”
“A bullet to the back of the head is easier,” says Hana. “They didn’t ask you to identify the body?”
I shake my head. Not that they can see me. “No. I’m guessing my aunt had already arrived in town.”
“Do you think you’ll hear from her?” asks Muriel.
“I highly doubt it. She hated me before all of this. Her only child just got murdered, most likely because of a link to me. Those feelings will only be compounded now.”
“Wonder if they tried to bury her out there,” says Hana. “How closely did they follow what happened to Briana?”
“We need more information. The statement the cops made didn’t tell us a damn thing.”
There’s a noise from the lock on the back door and in walks Noah.
My heart does its usual belly flop at the sight of him.
A tension inside me unwinds. I don’t remember it being like this last time…
so big and unwieldy and all consuming. It would make sense to slow down.
Me and romantic relationships have an awful history, and he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to get involved with me.
Though his alibi sure saved my ass and then some.
My mobile phone data would place me at home.
But someone having actual eyes on you is better.
“Noah’s back. Talk to you guys later.” I pick up my cell and disconnect the call. Then I turn off the TV.
And here we are. Just him and me.
The thing is, blurting out I like him or love him or I don’t know what is not a good idea.
Not this soon. Not in the middle of all of this.
However, there’s this tangle of words sitting on my tongue just waiting to be set free.
I’m not even sure what it is I want to say.
A safer option might be performing an interpretive dance or reciting some bad poetry.
Anything that doesn’t involve throwing my panties and poor beat-up heart at the man.
His dark hair is damp and slicked back. And he’s wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a black tee. There are bruises beneath his eyes. A reminder of last night’s lack of sleep. He’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I tidied up the place and took a shower,” he says matter-of-factly. “Tried to think of shit to do to give you some time to yourself. But then I got worried about you being on your own, so here I am.”
“Hi.”
“Hey.” He tosses the key I’d given him yesterday in the air and catches it in his hand. “I think I’m going to hang on to this.”
“Oh.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No.”
I’ve never given a significant other a key.
The timing never seemed right with Ryan.
Something which just might have saved my life.
But the thought of Noah being a part of my world, of him able to come and go as he likes, is strangely pleasing.
None of the everyday normal anxiety rears its ugly head at the idea.
“You’d tell me if he called again, right?” he asks.
“Ryan? Yes. Though I doubt he will. I’m really not that important to him. He just likes to mess with me now and then. Being in prison must get boring.”
Noah makes a noncommittal sound. “What are you up to?”
“Guess I should try to get some work done.” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t want to, but they sent over some files earlier for a rush job. The pressure is officially on.”
He nods. Then he yawns. “I’m going to crash. Come get me if you need me. If you hear a noise outside you want investigated or you want some company or anything, okay?”
I give him two thumbs up. Like an idiot. Check out my smooth moves.
The edge of his mouth kicks up in amusement and he heads for the stairs. Noah is staying the night and sleeping in my bed. Again. This has not been a good day, but life doesn’t entirely suck.
It’s about two in the morning when he wanders outside.
I’m lying on an old picnic blanket in the backyard.
The perfect position for staring at the stars and thinking deep thoughts.
Or nothing at all. With all of the trees standing guard along the fence line, you can almost believe you were out in the wild.
Untouched by trouble and nowhere near civilization. Some nights it’s a really calming idea.
He stretches out beside me with a sigh. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just had a bad dream.”
His voice is rough and low from sleep. “What was it?”
“The usual. Hands around my throat, and I can’t breathe.”
He frowns. A pair of jeans are all he wears. Lean muscle and messy hair are a delight in the moonlight. The cut of his jaw and the concern in his eyes. “Wake me next time.”
“One of us should get us some sleep.”
“Wake me next time,” he repeats.
“Okay.”
He grunts.
“The problem is the nightmare wakes me up, and then my brain gets busy thinking about things, and then I can’t get back to sleep.”
“What sort of things?”
“Anything really.”
“You’re an overthinker,” he says.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
He looks me over, taking in the sleep shorts and tank.
Then he rises on one elbow and checks out our surroundings.
Auggie is asleep inside on his dog bed like a good boy.
And the neighborhood is quiet as can be.
All of the sensible sorts are fast asleep in their beds.
Even the media are missing for now. Though knowing my luck they’ll return tomorrow for more fuckery.
This time of night is reserved for nocturnal creatures in this corner of the world.
Without a word, he hooks a couple of fingers in the side of my shorts and the panties beneath.
Down my legs and off they go. Which is when he crawls between my legs.
His face is positioned just so, and my legs are lifted over his thick shoulders.
The heat of his body against the touch of the cooler night air is stirring in all sorts of interesting ways.
Guess he enjoys al fresco dining, and who am I to complain?
He nuzzles my inner thigh. Rubs his mouth against my sensitive skin.
The light graze of his stubble is a breathtaking thing.
Just amazing. My nerve endings light up like fireworks.
And everything low in my stomach seems hot and heavy.
No part of me isn’t focused on him and what he’s doing.
The feel of his breath against my sex is making me so wet.
There isn’t room in my mind for anything else.
In this one moment, he’s my whole world and I don’t hate it.
He traces the crease where my torso meets my leg with the tip of his nose.
Just this ever so gentle touch is both too much and not enough.
I need him a couple of inches over like my life depends on it. But of course, he takes his time.
Something I learned last night is how much he likes kissing.
The man can make out for hours. And he kisses my labia now, sucking and licking with utmost skill.
My eyes roll back in my head and the stars up high disappear.
His thumbs hold my lips open as he lavishes me with attention.
My heartbeat has moved south, sitting between my thighs.
He fucks me with his tongue, eating me as if nothing else matters.
As if he has never tasted anything better in his life.
The way this man goes straight to my head.
Nothing could be more potent than having his mouth on me.
My heels move restlessly against his back.
My hands are tangled in his hair. No one has done this for me before.
Not like this. Noah doesn’t stop until I’m shaking from head to toe.
He grips my thighs tight, holding me in place, as he lashes me with his tongue.
Someone’s loudly panting and moaning and it’s me.
There’s every chance I’ve even forgotten my own name.
His talented tongue draws circles around my clit.
Around and around until I lose my fucking mind.
The teasing flicks of the tip of his tongue are killing me.
I have unfortunately forgotten the English language.
But someone needs to tell him to stop messing around and finish me off before I accidentally tear out his hair.
Which is when the whole universe explodes.
White light as far as the eye can see. Planets and stars and moons are reduced to ash and dust. It’s like my body is gone, scattered to the corners of the earth by a strong breeze.
The post-come float is heavenly. I never want to come down.
But someone is putting my panties and shorts back on me before picking me up in strong arms.
“You’ll sleep now,” he says.
And he has me so relaxed he’s probably right.