28. Nicolette #2
“I’ll never say a word, Riot. I swear.” His eyes sparkled against the nighttime darkness while he studied my face as if making sure there were no hints of deception.
Satisfied with what he saw there, he pulled me closer.
The night sky twinkled out the window while the reassuring rhythm of his heart sang me to sleep.
When the sun came streaming in the next morning, it took everything in me to get out of bed and shut the blinds.
I yanked the old dusty curtains closed. When I turned around, Riot was watching me with a sleepy grin, a muscled arm resting behind his head.
My eyes raked down his bare chest and I sucked in my bottom lip to keep from drooling.
I blushed, realizing I was still completely naked.
Divingback under the covers a shivercrawledover my skin. Riotpulledme toward him and welaythere in quiet silence,feelingthe sun warm the tiny screen room. Closing my eyes, Ipressedmy ear to his chest andfoundthat strong, comforting rhythm.
Had I ever felt this at peace? Surely not with someone I was romantically interested in.
The tryst with my boss was laced with danger and illicit, stolen moments.
Complemented only by the defeating times I’d face him in public and he’d have to pretend I was nothing other than an employee.
After that, I spent many years keeping everyone at arm’s length, putting the entirety of my focus into my career, my stories, and the next big exposé.
Nestledagainst Riot’s body, itwasincredible to feel like I could rest. Like I could unload some of the weight Iwascarryingand feel as though another person might protect me as fiercely asI’vehadto protect myself.
The jaded cynic in me wanted to be critical.
She wanted to chastise me for finding comfort in another person.
She wanted to remind me that people were wired to let you down and to keep a guarded distance.
But after everything my life had thrown at me, everything this town had thrown at me, that cynical voice got surprisingly quieter .
I’d spent so long playing offense, listening to that voice, being the strong one, having the upper hand, being one step ahead, that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be vulnerable with someone who wasn’t there because they wanted something from you.
That voice was always going to have a place.
A cautious dose of skepticism was healthy, it’s what would keep me asking questions.
But for now, breathing in the scent of Riot’s skin, feeling his fingertips trace down my arm, listening to the unrelenting beating of his heart, an overwhelming sense of calm captured me and I was at peace.
I told him not to but Riot called in sick that morning and we spent the whole day in my bed, only getting up to make some quick snacks before getting back in bed.
It was a strange experience. My few relationships had been mostly business-like.
We went on dates. We met at functions. Sometimes we’d spend the night at each other’s apartments.
But I’d never shirked any responsibilities to stay home in a little love cocoon.
It felt nice. It felt normal and even though I was accustomed to looking down on the more basic human emotions, I think I understood what all the buzz was about.
Sex with someone you cared about, really cared about was in a different category of its own.
In the past, it had been almost transactional.
With Riot, it was soul-shaking and I couldn’t get enough of him. I was like a woman possessed.
“We can’t stay here forever,”Imumbledsomewhere around dinner time.
“Shh…”I could hear the smile on Riot’s lips. Hewrappeda hand over my mouth.“You shush now.”
Wewenton like that for several days, him onlygettingdressedto go to work and me to the grocery store. At nightwe’dtangle ourselves in a blanket,sometimes watchinga movie. Sometimes just watching the stars .
Wewentfor ice cream and I wish I could say Iignoredthe stares as wewaitedin line, hand-in-hand.
But where Riot would shrink away, Irelishedthe critical scowls.
Their disapproval onlyfannedmy affection for him.
Itmademe hold him tighter, laugh louder, and smile wider.
Letthe tongues wag. Riotbroughtme a sense of peaceI’dneverknownand not even Katie Plainbottom’s foul glare could poke a hole in my parachute.
Therewasa part of me thatwishedI could slap the truth in their face.
Afterhearingthe truth about Grace Asher’s death, Iwasshook.
It didn’t feel fair that Riotsacrificedten years of his life, but Ihadmadea promise I would never say a word.
I couldn’t be the one to waste his sacrifice.
Thiswasone story thatwasn’tmine to tell.
Melody’s assignmentdriftedin and out of my brain.
The truth would absolutely wreck the entire plan for the episode.
But a wrongful confession story? That could bedevelopedinto an entire series, if theywantedit to.
Remorsetwistedmy insides just at thethoughtof it.
Did Ihaveit in me to betray Riot? A month ago, I wouldhavesaidabsolutely.
Desperationmadepeople do crazy things.
But everythingwasdifferent now. No, my heart couldn’t handle the idea ofbreakingRiot’s trust byusinghis selflessness against him.
Still, something irked me about the story he told me. Something that nagged at the back of my subconscious I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
My brain thought so too because this morning I had woken in a cool sweat from a bizarre dream.
I was walking on top of a shallow lake, my surroundings black until I spotted a person standing in the distance.
It was Grace Asher, standing still. Her face pale.
Her eyes blank, drained of life. I asked what she was doing but there was no answer.
Her appearance began to skip like I was watching a film before she started spinning in place.
Slowly, at first, then quickened until she was spinning so rapidly she was a blur before the surrounding air sucked me in like a tornado.
I never took too much stock in dreams but it left me with a feeling like I was forgetting something.
Before I leftEaston for Godot, Ipouredover all the police records to familiarize myself with the facts.
The crime scene, the court case, all of it.
But the image of atwirlingGrace Asherateat me all day until I finallysatdown at the little round table in my lanai.
Maybe taking another look would jog something.
As I pulled my laptop open, I was ashamed to say I hadn’t so much as turned it on since the night of our date. We’d been so wrapped up in each other that I had let my entire Chimera investigation fall to the wayside.
My computer was dead, so I plugged it in as my thoughts drifted back to the night of our date.
I had been in the middle of sending my mom a video message when the sensation of being watched hit me from behind. Brennan had been sitting in the corner of my room like a goddamn creep.
“Jesus, Brennan! You scared the shit out of me,” I’d said but he just glared in response.
“Do you know how important cybersecurity is to me?” he asked, monotone.
“What?” I narrowed my eyes at him. Riot would be coming by any minute. I hadn’t been entirely forthcoming about the little drone operation Brennan had helped me with. It had been a bust, so it didn’t seem important.
“No devices connect to my network withoutgoingthrough a very thorough scan.”His eyesnarrowedat me accusingly and my neckprickled.“The mediawaspretty relentless when Riot firstcamehome so you can understand why I take precautions.”
Itwasincredible how even-keeledhewasand I don’t know why but itmademe nervous. Isearchedmy memory for anything incriminating that could’ve been on my computer and didn’t think of anything until—
“You read the profile I wrote.”
He didn’t dignify it with a response.
“I don’t like what yousaidabout my brother. ”
“Brennan, I didn’t mean it. I was angry. And hurt. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry. I thought I deleted that document, I swear. No one will ever see it.”
He eyed me with his dead stare and expressionless face and paused for a long beat.
“There were a few questionable emails I came across too. My brother’s name appeared quite a few times. All were sent or received before you arrived in our lives. Why are you here, Nicolette?”
It was the most normal and coherent I’d ever heard Brennan. Like the social awkwardness went to sleep when he was feeling defensive of his brother. His voice was deeper, his accusatory tone cut through me like a looming guillotine.
I opened my mouth but hesitated when I saw Riot pass by inside.
“Can we go outside and talk about this?” I moved to the door, but he stood there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. I stepped outside and held the door. Finally, he acquiesced. I glanced inside one more time before ensuring Riot wasn’t nearby.
“Look, yes, I initially came here because I was assigned to get Riot’s side of the story for this stupid documentary but I’m not writing it, Brennan.
I swear to you, I’m not. That’s why I’m looking into all this Chimera and coal mine stuff.
” I let the words rush out but Brennan started to shake his head.
His eye twitched, and it was as if the past few minutes had exhausted his “normalness” and his madness started to take over.
“I promise, Brennan. I care about Riot. A lot. Okay? Like, a lot .” I looked at the ground before gazing back up at him.
“Please don’t say anything to him. I’ll tell him, I promise.
It’ll be inconsequential soon enough, anyway.
” I waved my arms, accentuating the point.
“Please? I just need it to come from me.”
I waited for his response but he just kept shaking his head fervently, taking a few looming steps toward me. His breath came out in shallow, sharp exhales through gritted teeth.
“You’reaskingme to lie to my brother. I don’t like it.”His voice rose, and IprayedRiot couldn’t hear us.“No good, it’s no good! I don’t like it! Don’t like it!”Hehadstartedhittinghimself in the head and Ibackedup until my backfoundthe side of the lanai.
I was thankful that Brennan had stalked away when Riot came out.
I knew I had to tell Riot about the assignment before he found out from Brennan but I also knew it had to wait until I could make sure he believed that I wasn’t doing it.
And it’d be a hell of a lot more digestible if I had another story on deck.
Finally, my computer had enough juice to come to life.
Determined, I opened up the court case notes and began re-reading but nothing stuck out.
I moved to open the crime scene report and began reading from the top.
There had been signs of a struggle. End tables were knocked over.
Shattered glasses on the kitchen floor. I scanned down to the description of the body.
Victimwasfoundlying on her back between the dining area and kitchen—
“Hey!” My attention snapped to the sliding door where Riot stood in all his masculine glory. His biceps, round and pronounced, gripped the door frame above him.
I clapped my laptop shut and bounded to my feet, throwing my arms around his neck. His smell was intoxicating and the bubbly levity of youthful infatuation turned my limbs to jelly.
His lips pressed against my ear, sending a shiver down my skin. “There’s a drive-in movie at the ball field tonight,” he murmured. “Wanna be my date?”
Igrimacedthrough my school-girl grin.“Do they do those as, like, a nod to nostalgia or something?”
He pulled back and raised an eyebrow at me. “No?” He seemed genuinely confused by my question and my heart melted.