31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
The Hound
In the time that I shower with Cher, Henry calls twice. The third time, I pick it up, bracing for what’s to come.
“Lydia’s here,” Henry says, his light tone a relief. It’s strange how we work out our tiffs—which consists of not working them out at all. He just wakes up one day and decides that we’re fine. It’s toxic, but whatever. I don’t give a shit. Besides, I’m fully aware that it’s going to get much, much worse when I relay the news that I’m keeping his sister forever.
“Are the dogs getting along?” I ask, motioning to Cher to hurry up. She needs to get back home, and I need to get to work. She’s finally asked for my help, and you better fucking believe I’m going to come through for her. I would’ve done it whether she wanted it or not, though.
“Yeah, they’re fine. I’m just hoping my sister will decide to show up soon.” He sounds slightly irritated, but Lydia’s laughter in the background causes him to stop mid-frustration, and he tells her something I can’t make out.
“I’m sure she was just out with her friends or whatever.” I shoot Cher a look as she pulls on her shorts and buttons them.
“I’m aware. I think she’s starting to get tired of me,” Henry mutters. “But anyway, are you too busy to come over?”
“Um,” I hesitate, breathing out a sigh. “I can drop by for a few minutes, but then I have shit I need to do. Took a side job.”
There’s a pause. “This has to do with those dead guys, huh?”
I don’t lie. “Yeah, it does, but I don’t think it’ll take me long.”
“Whatever floats your boat.”
“Yeah, see you in a bit.” We hang up, and I turn to Cher, who winces as she takes a step forward. Guilt and satisfaction collide in my chest as I slide my phone into my shorts. I don’t like the fact she’s sore, but I do like how it happened.
“I have to get a new phone,” Cher says to me, blowing out a sharp breath. “I don’t really want to go anywhere without one.”
I nod, agreeing with her. “I carry burners. You can have one. It should prevent anyone from tracking you—other than me, of course.” I wink at her and lead the way back to the spare room. At the desk, she pauses.
“What were you doing with my phone?”
“Pulling everything off it to try and find...” My voice trails off as she picks up the other device. The one she shouldn’t know I have. Something on my face must’ve given me away.
“What’s on this?” she asks, popping out a hip.
“Nothing that you need to worry about,” I tell her carefully as I hold my hand out. “I don’t want you to look at it.”
“Why?” She holds the power button.
“Cher, I mean it,” I grab for it just as her picture pops up on the welcome screen. The color drains from her face, but she does let me take it, stumbling backward.
“Where did you get that, Jude?” Her voice is shaky, and as much as I hate that she’s found it, it might be helpful.
“Some random guy walked up and acted like I had dropped it,” I explain slowly, waving the mouse on my computer. “Obviously, I hadn’t, and the guy who handed it to me was too young to be the right one. I’ll show you.” I navigate to the CCTV footage from the street, pulling up the image of the guy bringing me the phone—and then scrolling back to the alley he appeared from. He shoves bills in his pocket, and then chases me down.
Cher stares at the screen. “Did you...Did you look at what was on it?”
I reach out to her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Kind of. Once I saw the nature of it, I pulled the transcript so that I could search for the person responsible.”
“So you knew what happened to me?” She turns, her face riddled with confusion. “And you just what? Pretended like you didn’t so I wouldn’t feel bad?”
“What happened to you doesn’t change how I feel about you,” I urge. “I was trying to find him before you asked me to help you...But I haven’t been able to find his name.”
“Dr. Christopher Nile,” she says quietly. “But I don’t know where he’s been or where he’s at. He taught at the school for years after I graduated—and I thought that was the end of it all for me.”
I nod, immediately doing a search for him. “It’s going to take me time. Hopefully, not a lot of it though.” The screen fills with articles of accolades and pictures, but I exit out of the screen before Cher can see too much. I don’t want to trigger her. I can wade through it all, find him, and then deliver him to her. She won’t have to lift a fucking finger.
“I need to get back,” she sighs.
Cocking a brow at her, I have to press. “And tell Henry about us?”
She hesitates. “No.”
My jaw tenses. “Okay, then I’ll come with you to tell him. I don’t want to put it off. You quit your job, we’re working to find this guy, and you’re going to be with me until we find him so I can keep you safe.”
She bristles. “I don’t need you to keep me safe, and for the record, I’m not ready to tell my brother. I want to take care of him first.”
I run my hands over my face. “Why? Why does it matter?”
“Because he’s going to freak the fuck out over us,” she snaps at me. “I can’t fucking deal with him and this, okay?”
“I can handle him,” I shoot back at her.
“Never said that you couldn’t.” She shakes her head as I grab one of the burner phones and hand it to her.
“My number is already in there.”
“Of course it is.”
“That’s the only number you’ll need,” I level with her. “Now let me take you back to your brother—and do my best to refrain from telling him how fucking good your ass felt this morning.”
“I’ll murder you,” she growls, glaring at me.
“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” I snort, chuckling as I put the computer to sleep and slip past her. Her face flashes with a brief moment of panic, and I love the way she thinks there’s any fucking way I haven’t figured it out by now. “By the way, your purse is right there,” I gesture to the black crossbody bag in the corner.
She goes for it, picking it up and slinging it across her. “Thanks.” If she’s worried about me having found what’s in there, she doesn’t show it.
But then again, she is one of the most talented liars I’ve ever met.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, scheduling an Uber. I’m over not having a fucking vehicle here, but it is what it is. As soon as Cher is safe with Henry, I’ll change that. Once this whole shitstorm comes to a close, I’m taking Cher far, far away from this place—and Henry can keep his Vegas house for himself.
***
“You’re here!” Lydia bolts upright from the chair as I step through the door, having timed my entrance thirty-five minutes after Cher. If she doesn’t want her brother to know yet, then I’ll go along with it. For now.
“Hey,” I greet Lydia as she wraps me in a hug, and I stiffen in her grip. Cher is sitting with Cash on the couch, patting his head and paying me no mind at all. It grates my nerves, but she looks so fucking cute in her bike shorts and tank top that I can’t stay angry with her. Besides, seeing her with her brother after everything feels surreal.
And the reality that he has no idea what happened to her is almost unbearable.
“How’re you liking Vegas?” Lydia asks as I linger in the living room, my arms folded across my chest.
“It’s fine,” I tell the green eyed, blonde headed woman. “It’s hot.”
She giggles. “Yeah, sounds about right.”
I nod, and she falls silent, returning to sit next to Cher on the couch. I really need to go. I don’t have time to sit around and chat right now. “Well, you all have a grand afternoon.” I give them all a slight smile, and then spin around and head for the door.
“Wait, you’re just showing up for a few seconds and not staying?” Lydia calls after me. “We could all go out tonight. It would be fun.”
I spin around to face her, my eyes jumping to Cher’s, who’s finally looking at me. “I have a lot of shit to do. I took on a side job. You know how those go for me.”
Lydia sighs. “We’ll see you when you emerge from your cave then.”
I tip my head. “Yep.” With that, I head out of the apartment, not turning to look back at any of them. My converse squeak as I come to a halt at the door, ripping it open.
“You sure you can’t stay?” Henry’s voice behind me is startling, and I jump, my shoulders bouncing.
“Sometimes I forget how creepy you can be,” I mutter, shaking my head as the door hangs open in my hand. “But yeah, I’m sure I can’t stay.”
“Is it about earlier?”
“I don’t know, Henry,” I snap, irritation burning in my chest. “You are the biggest asshole I know—maybe a close second to Luca. You punched me in the face, made me move out, and now you want me to come back and hang out? You’re like a toxic girlfriend.”
Henry corrals me into the hallway of the apartment, letting the door close behind him. “I’m sorry.”
“Wow, big apology,” I snort. “It’s fine. I just have shit to get done. Time is of the essence.” And that’s true. I want to find the fucking monster that hurt my girl, and maybe a knife in his throat will silence those voices in her head forever.
“Why are you being so fucking hardheaded?” Henry shoots back at me. “I shouldn’t have overreacted, but I think...” His voice trails off as his jaw sets. “I don’t think Cher is being honest with me.”
No way? You just fucking noticed?
“Oh?” I say instead, opting for the lesser. “And what do you want me to do about it?”
He looks... wounded. “I don’t know. I always thought she told me everything going on in her life—and I know that she’s a grown woman, but it feels monumental.”
Because it is.
I take a deep breath. “Maybe you should ask her about it.”
He nods. “Yeah, maybe so. I have a meeting with the realtor this afternoon, but maybe I can stop by your place afterward?”
“Uh, sure. Just give me a heads up so I can make sure I’m decent.”
Henry chuckles. “You’re so fucking weird.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I know.”
But your sister likes it.