Chapter 26 Juliet
JULIET
Amber Kombs. That’s the girl’s name. Realizing that the locals were restless after yet another dead body, the Silverwood Police Department releases a statement within a few days of the discovery of the body, including the girl’s name, age, and occupation, but not how she died.
Not that anyone really seems to care about the how of her death. They only care about what it means for the town. Because the only thing linking Amber Kombs to Morpheus Calloway is the fact that they’re both dead.
Morpheus was a successful businessman. Amber was a stripper at The Veil. He lived on the north side of Silverwood in a mansion with a full staff. She was couch surfing between places with the other strippers and sometimes renting a room from the motel next to the strip club.
By the end of the week, everyone knows every detail about her life. Abusive boyfriends, long nights at The Veil, even suspicions of prostitution. One thing that never goes away is the curious detail of the wig she’d died in. Bright blue. Noticeable. Just like…
“Juliet!” Mads waves at me from down the hall, one arm streaking wildly through the air as she anchors a stack of papers to her chest with the other.
I lift my hand in a casual response even as I shoot a few dagger-tipped glares at the people staring at me by their lockers.
The whispers and stares had just started to fade a bit after Morpheus’ death and now, they’re back full throttle.
Mads puts her arm down and barrels towards me, her legs eating up the distance between us like a woman on a mission.
She stops when she gets to me. “What are you doing this weekend?” she demands, briskly, far more intent than I usually see her.
“Um… hanging out with the guys?” Which is code for seeing Viks and Abel and finding out if the cops are any closer to Morpheus’ killer. Nolan swears he’s got a plan for Darrio, so I’ve put him on the back burner of my mind.
Mads’ shoulders droop. “Oh, so you have plans…”
“I mean…” I grimace and stretch my neck to the side uncomfortably. It’s really hard to tell her no when she looks so sad about shit. How the fuck did the people of this school ever outcast her? Or worse, how the hell can her parents not see what a kind, genuinely good person she is?
Her big blue eyes blink up at me, hopeful. I sigh. “What did you have in mind?” I ask.
“Oh, I-I didn’t want to ask if you already had—”
“Mads,” I cut her off. “Just spit it out.”
Her teeth sink into the plush skin of her lower lip for a brief second. “My parents are letting me go to the winter formal!” she bursts out.
“That’s… cool?” I stare back at her, unsure how else I’m supposed to respond.
Mads rolls her eyes before smacking my arm. “Lex said you’re going too. I thought we could go dress shopping this weekend. My cousin needs a babysitter, but she’s letting me borrow her car, so I can pick you up if you—”
She falters, her words tapering off when she catches the way my face twists—nose scrunched, brow pinched.
“You don’t want to?” she asks carefully.
“Shit, sorry, Mads.” I drag a hand down my face, exhaustion bleeding into my voice. “It’s not that, I just… I don’t shop. Not unless I have to. And Lex has this stupid winter formal burned into his head, but…” My throat tightens. “I can’t exactly blow money on some designer dress right now.”
“Not designer!” Mads says quickly with a giggle. “Lord, I can’t afford that either. I was going to drive to the next town over and see if they have anything in their secondhand stores.”
Even secondhand formal wear is above my budget, I suspect; ironic, considering where I’d been this time last year—dancing around a club in the city with a dress worth twice a normal person’s rent. My lips twist and I really don’t want to tell her no, but…
“I don’t know,” I murmur with a sigh. “I’m really trying to save—”
“I’m paying for it.” The words cut through mine like a blade, and then a heavy arm drops around my shoulders. Thick. Muscled. Tattooed. A spicy woodsy scent invades my lungs. My stomach dips. Nolan.
I tilt my chin up at him, startled. “You are not.”
“Totally am,” he says, giving me a squeeze that’s more like a claim than comfort. He shoots Mads a small, easy smile. “That is, if you don’t mind Gio tagging along.”
Suspicion prickles sharp in my chest. “Why would Gio come on a girls’ shopping trip?”
Nolan doesn’t even blink. “To drive you.”
Mads opens her mouth, probably to argue about using her cousin’s car again, but Nolan shuts her down with a raised hand and a look that makes it sound less like a suggestion and more like law. “Save it, Madison. Use the car for something else. Gio’s got you.”
And before either of us can say anything else, he spins me away and clamps both hands on my shoulders to keep me from ducking out of his hold or scampering away. “I’m borrowing my girl,” he announces over his shoulder, dismissing Mads with a casual wave. “She’ll catch you later. Bye, Madison.”
“Oh, uh, bye!” Mads’ confused farewell is nearly overwhelmed by the scorching heat burning up my face and the rapid pulse of my heartbeat in my ears.
I stumble to keep up as Nolan marches me down the hall. Glancing back, I see Mads blinking at us, wide-eyed and looking like a lost puppy.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss, digging my heels in.
“Don’t fight me, Jules.” His voice is low, dangerous. “Or I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you.”
The scowl that finds my lips is as natural as breathing. “You wouldn’t.”
Nolan leans forward, his face coming up right alongside mine. His grin is sharp, predatory, all teeth. “Try me, Princess.”
My pulse stutters. I don’t even realize I’ve picked up my pace until his smirk deepens.
The two of us head through the main hall and out into the student parking lot as the bell rings for the final class.
I guess we’re skipping today. At the back of the lot, as per usual, is G’s Firebird and Lex’s SUV.
Most of the snow from the other day has melted, but there’s still a chill in the air.
As we grow steadily closer to the vehicles, I draw my arms around myself, huddling into the hoodie I stole from Gio that morning.
“Where are we going?” I ask as Nolan pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and presses a button—unlocking the SUV. I glance around, expecting the others, but it’s just us. “Where are the guys?”
“We’re going to meet up with Viks and Abel,” he says. “The guys are staying behind to let people know that neither of us was feeling very good and went home early.”
“Went home early?” I repeat his words with a scoff even as he leads me around to the passenger side and pops the door for me, holding it wide. “No one is going to believe that.”
“Whether they believe it or not isn’t the point,” he says.
I hop inside. “Then what is?”
“Plausible deniability and alibis.” He shuts the door behind me, before rounding the front hood and getting into the driver’s side.
Nolan cranks the engine and flips the heat dial all the way over. "Are you planning on breaking the law?” I arch a brow in his direction as he buckles up and then reverses out of the spot.
“Just setting things up in case we need to make a pit stop later tonight,” he replies.
Nolan doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t push.
Not when I expect that he’ll explain soon enough.
The afternoon sun flickers across his face in sharp slices of gold and shadow as we leave the school parking lot behind.
The ride is quiet except for the low hum of the heater and the occasional rattle of gravel when he takes a turn too sharp.
We drive for longer than I expect, until the passing neighborhoods become more familiar to me and I remember where Viks and Abel are staying.
Several minutes later, Nolan turns into the driveway of the sprawling mansion with its pillars and empty windows.
My stomach is in knots. I never did get a chance to thank Viks for helping out with Darrio at the club.
“Ready?” Nolan doesn’t wait for an answer before shutting off the engine and getting out. With a huff of breath, I follow, meeting him on the walkway. He reaches for me, holding out his hand, and I take it. His palm is warm against mine.
The front door opens as we draw near and a haggard-looking Abel in a tight black t-shirt and running pants steps into view. He crosses his arms over his chest and tsks at us. “Skipping school? I should send you back right now.”
I snort, but before either Nolan or I can say anything, a tennis shoe comes flying around the side of the front door and smacks right into the side of his head. Abel stumbles and then whirls back to the inside of the house.
“Damn it, woman! That hurt!” He rubs the back of his head, face scrunched in annoyance before he gestures for us to hurry up.
Wide-eyed and more than a little amused, I hustle it up the front steps and into the warm interior of the house. The showroom vibe has warmed a bit on the inside since the last time we were here.
The place is still pristine—neutral walls, white trim, flawless glass windows. The difference now is the scent of sugar in the air and the variety of items strewn about the open spaces from the coats in the living room to the computer set up in the dining room.
“That’s what you get for being an ass.” A small woman with vibrant lavender-colored hair huffs as Abel stomps towards her. She narrows her eyes at him and lifts one of the throw pillows off the couch, holding it out threateningly.
“Don’t even think about it, Abel.”
“Don’t what, Riot Girl?” Abel taunts. “Don’t get my revenge.”
She steps back as he advances. “Abel…” Her voice is a warning, one he’s obviously used to hearing because he ignores it with such ease.
In the next moment, he’s got the pillow plucked from her grip and her body swung up in his arms as he squishes her against his chest with her feet dangling off the floor.
“Ugh!” The woman struggles against him. “Put me down!”
“Pay the toll,” he says. “And apologize for hurting my feelings.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes before she catches sight of us.
Absently, I reach out and swing the front door shut behind Nolan and me.
“Sorry about him,” she says, her hands betraying her words and supposed irritation with the man currently holding her as she wraps them around the back of his neck.
“He’s cranky when he doesn’t get enough sleep. ”
“Toll, woman!” Abel shakes her back and forth, her legs swinging from side to side. With another eye roll, she pecks him on the lips and then when she tries to get down, he huffs. “That’s not a kiss, Riot Girl. I taught you better than that.”
“Not in front of the kids, Abel!” she snaps. “Now. Put. Me. Down.”
Grumbling, Abel deposits her back on the floor. “Fine, but I plan to take out the rest on your ass later,” he tells her. “Including interest!”
Waving him away, the woman approaches us and I realize she’s not just short—she’s petite and fine-boned as well. “Again, I’m sorry you have to deal with him,” she tells us, stopping a few feet away and holding out her hand. “I’m Rylie. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Nolan says, reaching out and taking her hand, only for Abel to appear next to him in the next instant and smack him away.
“No touchy,” Abel barks.
Rylie ignores him and turns to me. I take her hand, but this time, Abel doesn’t do anything. “He’s a big man-child,” she says, though there’s a soft curve to her lips as she says it.
“Uh—yeah, I can see that,” I say, chuckling as Nolan rubs his arm and glares at Abel. “Usually, he’s a lot more professional. How do you know him?”
Rylie sighs. “He’s my—”
“Soulmate,” Abel says at the same time she finishes, “Husband.”
She rolls her eyes as Abel deftly moves up next to us and turns, edging Nolan farther away. Despite the circumstances and the fact that I still don’t know what the fuck we’re doing here, I can’t help but bite my lip to repress a laugh.
“About time you showed up.” All at once, we turn our heads in the direction of that deep voice. Viks steps into the open doorway leading to the rest of the house, his massive body taking up damn near the entire opening as he crosses his arms over his chest and eyes us.
Any amusement that had been building slowly disperses at the sight of him. I drop Rylie’s hand and move towards him. “I wasn’t able to say it last time, but thanks for stepping in at The Dionysus Lounge,” I tell him.
Vik’s cool gray eyes slide like razors over me, and he nods. “Not a problem,” he says. “But maybe next time, no drinking with the enemy.”
“Yeah,” I agree. Though in my defense, I didn’t think I’d had a choice. None of them had been there, and I’d certainly not expected to get drunk so fast.
“Come on.” Viks jerks his chin towards the living room. “We’ve got a lot to cover before tonight.”
“Tonight?” I frown and glance in Nolan’s direction.
In response, he merely moves up to my side and palms the back of my neck, fingers sliding beneath the strands of my hair so that they can curve over my nape.
I narrow my gaze on him when he doesn’t speak, but merely holds on to me as Rylie takes Abel’s hand and moves into the living room with Viks following behind them.
“What’s going on?” I ask as Nolan directs me after the group.
Without missing a beat, he turns towards me and swoops down, planting a heated kiss on my lips. It’s hard and raw and startling in how quickly it scrambles my brain. When it’s over, I’m left feeling like I’m standing on a cliff’s edge and confused how I got there.
“Let’s go, Princess,” Nolan murmurs, his hand falling to my waist as he pulls me into the living room. We find a place on one of the overstuffed luxurious chairs and he pulls me down into his lap.
I blink at Rylie’s knowing smirk as she sits in much the same position, half on the couch and half tucked into Abel’s side.
Shock and awe have loosened my muscles as I let Nolan arrange me in a way that’s most comfortable for him.
I don’t even bother to try and pull myself away or find my own seat.
I’m too busy with the one question blaring through my head.
What the fuck just happened?