Chapter 23
Nolan
She won’t leave the apartment.
To be fair – other than to piss – she won’t even leave my room.
Breakfast in bed?
Yeah, that shit has the wrong meaning now.
There’s nothing romantic about feeding the person you care about in bed because it’s the only way you can guarantee they do eat.
Not that she’s eating much.
Both my trucks guzzle more fuel in a day than she has been.
And sleep?
Pretty much nonexistent.
And when she does?
She wakes up screaming at the top of her lungs in horror.
I swear it’s like she’s auditioning for a role in a Scream sequel.
All of a sudden, Bunny shoots up straight to release a gut-wrenching cry. “No!” Her frame – that’s still bearing my old sweatshirt – wildly whips around fighting off someone despite the fact no one is physically there. “No! No! No!” Her balled fists violently flail around the air. “Kill me! Just kill me! I don’t want to do this anymore!”
Exactly.
Like.
This.
Catching one of her wrists before it sucker punches me – a mistake you only make one time – leads to her instinctively swinging the other in my direction out of sheer will to break free. The instant it’s caught too, I gently encourage, “Relax, Rabbit. It’s me.” Her ink covered body continues thrashing. “It’s Mutt.”
Like normal, hearing the nickname freezes her movements.
Opens her eyes.
Convinces her to assess the actual situation she’s in and realize she was only dreaming.
Fuck, if I knew how to infiltrate that shit Freddy Krueger style I would.
I’d kill that motherfucker that’s haunting her there to give her a prequel of what’s to come in the real world when I get my hands on him.
As soon as Bunny finishes processing that she’s awake and whatever it was that was happening wasn’t real, her entire body sags in relief against the gray sheets. Relinquishing my hold is followed by her rolling onto her side and tucking her hands together underneath her sullen face.
I pull the cover up to her shoulder at the same time I firmly declare, “You’re safe here.”
Unfortunately, she doesn’t bother agreeing.
Or disagreeing.
Probably because that would require her to speak.
Which she hasn’t done.
At least…not consciously to us.
Not since that creepy ex fuck of hers managed to get a message into our apartment.
How he did it?
That’s the question The Kid and I need an answer to.
Why he did it?
Well, that’s the reason our woman has completely shut the fuck down.
It’s what he wanted.
To prove he still has power over her.
Control.
And until she gets it through her thick, stubborn skull that she’s the one who has the power…that gives him that power…she’s gonna always find herself feeling this…defeated.
And I hate there’s nothing I can do to snap her out of it.
Hasn’t stopped me from trying though.
“I gotta go meet, Garcia.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear threatens to bring out a smirk from us both. “Get some updates on the cases.”
Her eyebrows briefly furrow in confusion.
“Yeah, Rabbit.” This time I let the corners of my lips successfully curl upward. “It’s already Thursday.” Seeing her eyes widen to the size of truck tires causes me to slightly chuckle. “Wild how time flies when you’re already stocked up on carrots, huh?”
The impish retort receives the narrowed gaze I was hoping it would yet not the verbal lashing.
God, I’d do anything to hear her say some snarky shit to me.
To The Kid.
Even just…a simple…hi would ease this gnawing ache that just stirs in my gut like fucking wet cement in a cement truck.
“You hungry?”
Rabbit shakes her head.
Snuggles deeper under the sheet.
“Thirsty?”
She repeats the action.
“Humpy?”
Once more I’m given a mirth-filled glare proving that regardless of how the shit looks, our woman is still somewhere in there.
Trying to survive.
Desperate to break free.
An overly dramatic sigh floods the room inspiring more humor to fill her gaze but not the rest of her expression. “Can’t blame a man for hopin’, right?”
I’m shot a quirked eyebrow full of so much attitude, I swear I can practically hear the thoughts accompanying it.
Seriously.
The fucking lengths I would go to in order to have her actually speak to us again are getting more extreme by the hour.
“Want me to send The Kid up?” Moving the TV remote closer to the pile of pens on the bedside dresser is casually executed. “Have him keep you company for a while? Maybe watch a movie or something to take your mind off of shit?” She hesitates to wordlessly reply prompting me to instantly remind, “It’s not a big deal, Rabbit. The garage is still closed for repairs, so you’re not keepin’ him from workin’. I swear.”
At that, she sheepishly nods.
“Is that a yes?”
She nods with a little more vigor the second time.
“Alright then, I’ll grab him.” I lean over and plant a soft kiss on the side of her forehead. “Try to get some more rest while I’m gone.”
Getting from my room to where Kipp is slamming around tools – clearly failing to hide his frustration – is done fairly quickly; however, I can’t ignore the feeling that getting from the garage to my nonwork truck is going to take a bit more time.
As soon as my best friend sees me, he carelessly chucks the wrench to the side and crosses over to cut off my path. “How is she?!” Anxiousness and hope furiously fuse together on his face. “Better?” It’s impossible not to acknowledge the longing in his blindingly bright, crystal stare. “She finally talking?”
There’s no time to even think about replying.
“She say your name?! My name?!” Eagerness has him closing the gap between us. “Our names?!”
Gently dropping my hands on his shoulder is accompanied by firmly commanding, “Breathe, Kid.”
Against his own volition, he does.
“Take an early lunch. Go spend some time with her.”
“I don’t know that that’s a good idea…” He shifts his weight back and forth uncomfortably. “I honestly don’t think she wants me around.” His gaze wanders away to get lost in the distance. “Cares if I’m around. I kinda think if I wasn’t bringing her different color pens throughout the day, she wouldn’t even remember I exist.”
“Kid,” I forcefully state, summoning his attention back to me, “you gotta be patient. She just needs a little more time.” My fingers flex, prompting his tense muscles to loosen. “She’s still here, which means she still wants us. To be with us. She didn’t fucking run after she found that note. Never forget that.”
“Yeah, but it’s your room she doesn’t leave-”
“Because she feels too exposed in the living room.”
“And it’s your bed she sleeps in-”
“Because the one we had together on the floor was ruined by where she found the fuckin’ note.”
“And your voice that stops her from screaming.” Flickers of tears struggle not to be seen in his eyes. “I…I…I don’t think it’s us she wants anymore, Nolan. I think it’s just you.” He shrugs my arms off his frame. “I think it’s always been just you. I think I’ve never been anything else other than a spare wheel. A free feature she would’ve never paid extra for. A-”
His words are cut off due to me abruptly yanking him forward by his work shirt. “Knock that shit off, Kid.”
Kipp’s eyebrows pull tightly together in silent objection.
“We’re in this together. The three of us belong together.” Tightening my grip occurs at the same time I soften my tone. “Don’t let that asshole get inside your head like he’s gotten inside of hers.” My other hand lands protectively on his hip. “I need you on armored truck duty for our woman, not limo service to a bachelorette party. Got it?”
There’s no hesitation to sniffle away his doubts and nod. “Got it.”
“Good.” I loosen my hold as my other hand slides down to cup his ass. “What do you think? I look okay?”
The kid lets his gaze sweep over my dark slacks and white button up shirt. “You look like you’re goin’ on a date…not meeting our attorney.”
“Who’s also an old friend.”
Displeased grumbles promptly echo around the space.
“Quit fuckin’ burnin’ rubber about me havin’ brunch-”
“Brunch is a date meal.”
“-with Garcia. Fuck, there are only two people who can even start my engine anymore and that’s you and our Lola upstairs. It’s fucking embarrassin’.”
“Lola?”
“Like Lola Rabbit.” A blank stare being the only response I’m given gets me huffing. “Could you maybe not remind me how much fuckin’ older I am than you?” Delivering a playful swat to his ass conjures a chuckle. “Just like…for a…day, maybe? Is that too much to fuckin’ ask?”
“It is when you ask for it every day.”
Another pop precedes our mouths meshing together. My lips spread his roughly on impact and the second my tongue has the chance to slide inside it does. It lazily rolls in one direction. The other. Laps his like it’s done the shit a thousand times and will be doing it a thousand more.
Desperate, needy groans, pour out of my boyfriend, calling for me to harshen my hold.
Grind my growing hard on against his, further reminding him that he has nothing to worry about.
That they have nothing to worry about.
Particularly in this department.
I can’t even fucking watch porn anymore because of them.
Abruptly pulling back results in me needing to wipe away spit from the corner of his mouth. “Hold that fuckin’ thought for me ‘til I get back.”
The Kid manages to steal a tiny lick of my thumb. “Yes, Sir.”
Hungry grumbles leave me before placing a much more chaste kiss on his lips and begrudgingly leaving.
And I have to leave right now, or I won’t.
I’ll irrationally bail on the meeting and give his ass a pounding on the stairs we could both appreciate.
Which would be irresponsible.
And immature.
And further make me feel like my ass is back in my twenties when I’m far from it.
After swinging by our local police station to ask our sheriff, Elijah Post, to check the note Bunny found for any sort of evidence to give us a clue to its origins – in an off the books execution – I head over to meet Garcia at Uova al Purgatorio, an upscale brunch place,in Spike Village.
Traffic is practically nonexistent during the drive, something that allows me to make great time and not dwell on the fact I hate having to be this far away from them.
But it’s necessary.
And I’ll always do whatever’s necessary for those I love.
I hope they know that.
I really need them to know that.
With valeting being the only option at the restaurant, I find myself grateful Garcia advised me to put on nicer clothing than I had originally planned.
I don’t own an actual suit anymore, so this was the closest I could get.
Forfuckssake, the only reason I even have this is because we stocked up a bit on nicer clothes for dates with Rabbit, a little fact Posie has been bragging to everyone who will listen about.
There’s really no fucking reason Fred Athie, the town doctor, should be second handedly recommending the best types of ties for the best situations to me.
Finding my oldest friend in the Italian themed upscale environment isn’t difficult because it never is.
Because all you gotta do is follow his fucking cologne.
He practically bathes in the shit.
Upon my arrival, the long-legged brunette he was flirting with, politely dismisses herself with a less than subtle wink and stroke to his neck, a combination of actions that gets me smirking. “You fuck her last night or is she the plan for tonight?”
“The latter.” Garcia arrogantly beams back while reaching for his glass of bourbon. “Although, I am always open to something better.”
“Good to know some shit never changes.”
“And good to know that some shit does.”
His reference to my relationship with The Kid and Rabbit extends the lifespan of the grin I’m sporting.
Despite Kipp not knowing about him, he knew about The Kid.
How I worked with his old man – who Garcia warned me about.
How I started looking at him differently when he made the transition from snot nose Hot Wheel lover to true gearhead in his twenties – which Garcia pointed out.
How Jolene was trying to make me choose between the two – something Garcia told me was gonna come when I first started hooking up with her.
Part of me thinks he knew before I knew that Kipp was mine.
And if he did?
Fuck him for not telling me sooner.
What kinda friend does that?!
Small chitchat is made in between him explaining the weird name of the establishment – Eggs in Purgatory when translated – and how they serve practically every type of egg imaginable. Post ordering – both me a drink and each of us a meal – I steer the conversation in a more important direction.
“Updates?”
Garcia casually nods and puts his glass back down. “Woods’s case is slow but fairly open and shut. The dude he put down had defensive wounds on him – as though he had been in a fight – as well as gunshot residue on hands from recently firing the weapon he was killed with. Add those facts to his criminal record, which included but was not limited to charges of assault, harassment, and intimidation, and the shit’s basically a done deal. Woods actually did the world a heroic act. They might even give him a medal.”
“They won’t.”
“But they should,” my poker pal laughs off.
“What about my case?”
“Official complaint filed with the court on Monday – thanks to the amount of incompetence in this city I basically have a fucking template for civil suits – and we will be witnessing said complaint served to The Chief today.” He casually points a finger over my shoulder, wordlessly telling me to turn around to see the man who doesn’t know it’s coming. “That’ll happen around the time our check arrives here rather than at the precinct courtesy of that beautiful woman you saw me flirting with earlier. He’s been eye fucking her since he walked in here like I expected.”
“Isn’t he married?”
His head tilts condescendingly. “Aren’t they all?”
Rather than pull at that loose lug nut, I push forward for more information. “What about Davis and Northwood?”
“Clean.”
It’s me who suddenly displays a sarcastic look.
“Okay, dirty, but clean for them.”
“Meaning?”
“Northwood’s been known to let people off for small shit like speeding tickets or public intoxication or possession of a substance for a handful of bills while Davis has a similar relationship with quite a few number of high-class sex workers hence the reason his wife left him.”
Even if he wasn’t fucking around on her the guy’s not exactly fun to be in the presence of.
“Neither have anything out of the ordinary going on in their emails or bank accounts or movements.”
“What about the other cops that were there?”
“All clean. Except,” he lifts a finger to indicate more information is coming, “one of the officers actually switched shifts to be on the raid. The officer on the scene? Clean. The one who initiated the swap? Not so much. There’s footage of him taking calls on a burner phone during his lunch breaks. Picking up a package at a random mailbox that wasn’t his. And a large deposit pre the raid followed by another post. We’re looking deeper into him.” Garcia shakes his head in irritation as he leans back in his seat. “You know if you’re gonna take a payoff, be smarter about the shit. Small increments. Random amounts. Do it on different days. Do it near major sporting events. It’s a lot easier to pass off as gambling winnings.”
Amusement can’t be kept out of my expression. “You givin’ me tips?”
“No, I’m regurgitating common knowledge.”
“Is that common?”
“Depending on the circles you choose to swim in, absolutely.”
Light laughter bounces back and forth between us before I ask, “What about Rabbit’s case?”
To my surprise, his entire demeanor not only noticeably shifts, it has him retrieving his booze. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
My hand gestures in his direction to continue.
To just rip the shit out like a bubbled-up tint job.
“Good news is Zero has managed to start collecting a shit ton of information against McAdams. Everything from ‘lost’ witness statements, to concerned citizens reports, to fired staff – both from work and home. Even the chick who cuts his hair says he’s a terrifying lunatic – off the record.”
“Of course.”
“Anything your woman has told you about him is far from an exaggeration as it can possibly be. Honestly? I’m feeling a little more like it was an undersell.”
New hunks of dread slowly begin churning, mixing with the ones that have been lingering since she first found the note. “And the bad news?”
“McAdams is actually here in Spike Village ‘on business’.” Garcia has one large gulp prior to quietly announcing, “He landed first thing this morning.”
***