5. Interrogating Me, Chief?
Interrogating Me, Chief?
Bree
‘O h, this place is nice,’ Doug says as we walk into the new gym that’s opened just thirty minutes out of town. It’s been a week since Lottie was born, and Cara asked me to get him out of the house. He won’t let her lift a finger, and as sweet as that is, he’s driving her crazy.
‘Yeah, nothing like brand new equipment and only a couple weeks’ worth of sweat stinking up the place,’ I quip, and he shoves my shoulder.
I love working out with my brother. Cara makes us girls do yoga with her, and I run with Nick sometimes, but Doug and Leo are my favorite gym buddies, aside from Jenna, but we’re usually on opposing schedules at work, so finding time to go to the gym together can be challenging, and I really fucking needed to work out today.
One message—that’s all it was. I didn’t reply, and no more came, but I haven’t slept in the three days since, getting up multiple times to check my phone and recheck that my doors and windows are locked. I’m on edge.
‘Hey guys.’ Leo arrives looking a little flustered, and I eye him curiously. He shakes his head. ‘Sleep regression, apparently. Lucas was awake all night.’
‘Should you have left them then?’ Doug asks: Papa and protective brother mode kicking in.
‘They were both asleep when I left. I thought the quiet house would do them good.’
We both nod as Leo looks around, taking in the new place with a slow nod.
‘Okay, let’s whip those saggy dad bods into shape,’ I joke as I walk away, knowing they’ll do their own thing, so I head straight for the treadmills to warm up. I need this. I need them.
‘Come on, shrimp, you’ve got more than that,’ Leo teases as I drop from the pull-up bar and shake out my arms.
I playfully shove him, and he laughs, pulling me into a sweaty hug. I push him away, and he winks. I love that my relationship with my brother-in-law is as it always was. He’s still my friend despite the fact that he now sleeps naked next to my sister every night.
To anyone looking at us, I bet it looks like we’re a couple, or at the very least like we’re flirting, but this is just us. We tease and play and laugh, and I love him. I love my brother, and Nick, and my girls. I feel so lucky to have the people that I do.
Leo reaches up to the bar and effortlessly pulls his massive body up. I roll my eyes and move to the leg press as he laughs. Laughs—while doing pull-ups—jackass.
I’m strong. I work out regularly. I’m fit and defined and comfortable in my skin, but no amount of workouts can make me grow a few extra inches, and no matter how many hours on the shoulder press, no matter how many bicep curls or dips or pull-ups I do, my upper body strength sucks. I’m good, to a point, but my limit comes hard and fast. My legs, though, are strong as fuck.
‘I like it here,’ Doug says as he sits at the machine next to mine.
‘Yeah, me too. It’s just a shame we have to drive so far out of town for this.’ I glance around again as I adjust the weight and bring the plate way, way in, to account for my short legs. Doug chuckles. ‘Shut the fuck up,’ I whine. ‘I had to share Mama’s belly. You got it all to yourself.’
He laughs harder, and I reach over to slap his bicep before settling back and continuing my workout.
It’s good here. The equipment is top-of-the-line, and there’s plenty of it. It’s busy but not so crowded that I’ve had to wait to use anything. I’m using the squat rack while the guys are in the free weights area, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s weird how we know when someone is watching us. My focus is set firmly in front of me, but I feel the eyes on my back. Pushing to stand, I replace the bar and step out, turning, taking in the area with the eyes of a cop.
Nobody is looking at me, but I know somebody was. There are two women who look to be racing on the rowing machines and a few people on the bikes. I glance over to see Doug, Leo, and a few other men in the free weights area, and my eyes meet my brother’s just as someone passes me, bumping against my side enough to cause me to stumble, but he just keeps walking.
‘Hey,’ I call out before I notice the headphones he has on over the top of his pulled-up hood.
‘You good?’ my brother says, now standing next to me, and I nod, yes.
‘Just some assh…’ I pause and inhale, then turn in my spot. That scent. That scent. Nolan . I shake my head. It can’t be him—he would say hi. Plenty of people must wear that cologne. Right?
‘Bree?’
I turn to Doug who is eyeing me curiously, so I smile.
‘Sorry, I’m good. Some jerk bumped into me and kept walking, but I’m fine. I’m going to hit the showers.’
‘Okay, I’ll meet you out front.’
‘I need to stop at the store,’ Doug says as he pulls out of the gym parking lot, but my thoughts are tied up. Nolan. I can’t get the scent of his cologne out of my head or my throat.
I don’t know what the cologne he wears is called, and it stands to reason he’s not the only man in the world, or even the state, who wears it, but something feels off.
I’ve never smelled it on anyone but him, and we were at the gym. Why would some random guy be wearing cologne to work out? If it were him, he would have said hello. He certainly wouldn’t have walked into me and left, but my mind keeps coming back to the texts. The person sending me the messages knows me and knows exactly where I live. Nolan knows where I live.
‘You okay?’ Doug’s voice stops my downward spiral, and I turn to offer him a small smile.
‘Yeah, good. Sorry.’
He nods as though he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push as he pulls into the grocery store parking lot.
‘You staying here or coming in?’
‘I’ll come.’
We head inside the store, and I decide to pick up a bottle of wine while Doug grabs the list Cara texted him. As I meet him in the snack aisle, I laugh at the confusion on his face and wrap my arm around his waist as he drapes his across my shoulders.
‘She wants chocolate, but she didn’t say which type.’ He sounds so worried, and I laugh again.
‘Why are you overthinking chocolate? Just get her favorite.’
‘She doesn’t have a favorite, Bree, and she just pushed my child out of her body.’
‘So, get her a selection and chips too.’
‘She didn’t ask for chips.’
He steps forward to grab the chocolate, and I walk away toward the potato chips.
‘Trust me, baby brother. Cara’s savory tooth is as strong as her sweet one. Get her the chips.’
As we make our way toward the cashiers to pay, the hairs on the back of my neck stand when that sickly sweet scent I’ve been trying to forget gets stuck in my throat once more, and I turn to meet Nolan’s gaze.
‘Bree,’ he says, colder than he ever has before, and I find myself stepping closer to Doug.
‘Nolan, hi.’ My voice trembles as I feel Doug’s arm press against mine, and I know he senses my uncomfortableness when he closes any gaps between us. ‘What are you doing out here?’
Nolan’s home is in the city, almost an hour from this back road store.
‘Um, grocery shopping.’ His tone is off as he looks my brother up and down, and Doug clears his throat as he steps forward, holding out his hand.
‘Nolan, was it?’ I see the reluctance as his hand raises up to my brother’s. ‘Doug, Bree’s brother. How do you two know each other?’
‘We used to date,’ Nolan says, holding my brother’s gaze.
‘This store is a way from your house, Nolan. Why are you grocery shopping so far from home?’
I try so hard to keep my tone light, but he reads me and my questioning like a book.
‘Interrogating me, chief?’
I hold his stare and notice the uplift at the corners of his mouth. It’s him . I know it’s him. The look in his eyes confirms it, but I have no proof.
‘Just wondering, that’s all. It’s quite a drive for us, too, but we’ve been to work out at a new gym that just opened up nearby.’
‘I just fancied a change of scenery.’ He smirks. ‘Enjoy your wine, Bree.’ His attention drops to the bottle in my hand before he walks away pushing his cart, and suddenly, the idea of the wine turns my stomach, so I put the bottle down on the nearest hard surface and wait for Doug to pay.
I was quiet the whole ride home, telling my way too observant brother that I was just tired. Back at my house, I sit on my sofa and stare at the cell phone in my hand. I put it together—the timing of the texts—they started not long after we stopped dating. The random coincidences, bumping into each other at the restaurant and the mall, then today, the guy at the gym, that scent, and then the store so close by, and the way he glared at Doug as though he was too close to me. It’s him . All this time, I was terrified because I didn’t know who was sending me the messages. I didn’t know who was watching, but now that I did, I was even more scared than I already was. He’s a cop, a detective, he’s smart, and has God only knows how many resources at his fingertips. Before, I thought it was a small-town douchebag prank. Now, I have no idea what his next move will be.
Before I can overthink it, I open up the now-neglected message thread between Nolan and me, the last message, a thank you for saving him after we were both stood up, and I start to type.
Me: I know, Nolan. I know it’s you. Please stop.
I see the dancing dots of a reply being composed, and then, nothing. No reply comes. My heart sinks, and tears prick my eyes, and when the vibration in my hand alerts me to a reply, my stomach churns.
Unknown: Don’t test me, princess.