32. Nicolette
Nicolette
“ I need to speak with Dr. Moore right away,” I barked into the phone as Riot pulled up to the house. I was out the door before he even put it in park.
“I’msorryhe’snot here tonight. I can take a message?”
“I need to know how far along one of the Echidna Pharmaceuticals drug trialsis.”
Irritatingly enough, the womanlaughed.“Oh, honey,I’mjust the night nurse, I don’t know that information. I can leave a message with the doc—”
“Yes, please, tell him to call Nicolette Parker back. It’s urgent.”
“Is that Nicolette with one L or two—” I hung up. He’d never get the message, anyway.
I flipped my laptop open, my knee bouncing in anticipation. Riot entered the house behind me.
Remorse pricked at me for derailingour date but let’s face it, Katiehadalready done that and our conversationwasheadednowhere positive. Glassclinkedaround in the other room before Riotappearedin my doorway, two glasses of red wine in his hands. My computerstirredto life.
Ismiledandpulledout the chair next to me.
Iopened a browser andsearchedfor companies running drug trials for cancer treatments.
Ittooka few clicks to find a list, but Iclappedmy hands together,spottingEchidna Pharmaceuticals on the list. But sowereabout sixty other companies.
Iknewbetter than to jump to conclusions but holy shit, I might be on to something here.
My fingers tappedfuriously,searchingfor Echidna Pharmaceuticals’ latest SECfiling.
Iputa request in for the full report. Within twenty-four hours I shouldhavethe basic details of their top shareholders in my email.
Ishutmy laptop andsatback in my chair,satisfied, taking the glass of wine from Riot.
Ilookedover to find himwatchingme with a strange gleam in his eyes.
“Sorry, I disrupted our date.” I grimaced, hoping he wasn’t disappointed.
He smiled at me and wrapped a warm hand around the back of my neck. He leaned in close.
“Do you know how fucking sexy youarewhenyou’reexcited?”Hepulledhis bottom lip in between his teeth and my faceflushedwith a crazy mix of embarrassment and desire.
Ileanedin to meet his lips, the warm, dark taste of red wine still fresh. His tonguebathedmy mouth in ownership. Ipressedcloser to him,settingmy glass on the table beforeclimbinginto his lap, my knees on either side of his hips.
A long sighescapedhis throat, and Idrankit in.
His strong handswrappedaround my back and hepressedmy body tighter against his.
All the heat in my bloodrushedto my center.
I couldn’t help but clench my thighs together to relieve the pressure but his bodywasbetween them and a soft, needy whimperslippedthrough my lips.
Hepushedhis hips up into mine and Iletmy head fall backward.
Riotmovedhis mouth expertly down my neck and Ishiveredat the scratchy way his close-cutshavescrapedagainst the most sensitive parts of my skin. Ipushedmy chest up closer to his chin anddrankup the breathy exhale heletout when Iranmy fingers through his hair.
I was about to start moving my hands down his chest when he pulled back. I groaned, giving him my best pout. He smiled, and it was a grin that touched his eyes.
“Stay with me tonight. In my room,” he whispered. I bit my lip to keep from grinning like a fool, realizing I had never been in Riot’s room. We’d been holing up in mine all week. I had often wondered what it looked like, what his bed felt like, but something told me his space was private to him.
Still, itwashard to ignore the echoes of our conversation from earlier. Hesawthe hesitation on my face, and hejumpedinto it before I could.
“Look, I know we don’thaveany resolution about what tomorrow looks like.
I’mhere for another four years and change and believe me, thethoughtof beingstuckhere without youispractically crippling because the truthis, these last few weekshavebeen the best of my goddamn life.
I don’t know what the tomorrows after youwilllook like but believe me when I tell youI’dfollow you anywhere, Nicolette.
And I know I can’t. But I want you anyway.
And ifthat’sgoingtomake all the tomorrows after youhurteven more when you leave then so be it.
Because I can’t live another second without your hands on me so, please, at least for tonight, right nowisall that matters. Please, stay with me. Tonight.”
My chestwarmed. Iknewthat hewasn’tjustaskingme for tonight. I didn’t know how to answer about tomorrow or the endless tomorrows after that one but I alsoknewI couldn’t live another minute without his hands on me .
Idrankin his scent and his masculine shape andrelishedthe hot heat that rose between us. Ipressedmy lips, thick andwanting,against his to give him my answer.
Iexpectedto find Riot’s bedroom messy, like a typical boy’s room.
But Iwassaddenedto walk in and find it almost bare.
Ithadlight-gray walls with almost no personal effects.
The only thing Ispottedwasa series of photoswedgedall around the border of the mirror thatsaton top of his dresser.
They were all of his parents. Family photos, couple photos, individual photos. It was the first time I realized there had been none around the house.
“I didn’t know how Brennan would react if Ihungher photos up around the house. So, Ikeptthem to myself in here,”Riot said, readingmy mind. My heartachedfor him. His fingersranover the photographs.
“She’s beautiful,” I said.
It was wild how different she looked in the younger photos with her husband and the boys. Beyond looking young, she looked happy. Carefree. Her brown hair was loose, blowing in the wind. She smiled carelessly, holding Riot’s hands.
There was a noticeable shift in her appearance when the boys were older. There was little color to her cheeks. Her hair was flat and her clothes were buttoned tightly to her neck. Her smile never touched her eyes.
“Shewasn’ta bad person. Shewasn’ta bad mother. Not to me at least.”Riot’s chestheavedslowly.“From thebeginning, she just didn’t know how to be a parent to someone like Brennan. When Daddied, itwaslike all of a sudden shewokeup in someone else’s life.”
Ithoughtabout what it musthavebeen like, to kiss your husband goodbye for work in the morning and never see him again. To come home to two young boys andhaveto manage the entire family by yourself. My heartachedfor the young couple in a Polaroid,takenon their wedding day.
When I looked over at him, Riot’s eyes were filled with sadness.
“It’s okay to miss her, you know.”Itooka step closer. Heexhaleda breath through a doubtful smile.
“I know. It just feels likeI’mbetrayingmy brother somehow bywishingshewerestill here.
”My handroamedthe massive expanse of his back.
“I’vebeen angry for so long andhavehadnowhere toputit.
Angry at him for taking her away. Angry at her forsendinghim to that camp.
Angry at myself for not being around to take better care of them.
”Heputdown the photoandturnedto face me.
“Whenyou’rearound, I forget about that anger.
You make it feel like it’s not such a hurdle after all.
Like I can finallyputdown the anger and move on. ”
His words fell over me, making the bridge of my nose sting.
“Whatever happens, Nicolette. Thank you for giving me that.”
It was the middle of the night when I woke up.
My body was still thoroughly spent and my limbs were limp from the peaceful blanket of bliss Riot and I had created.
But I’d had another dream about Grace. She was in the backyard this time, standing still, unmoving until I approached closer.
Once again she started spinning as if she were a ballerina standing on one of those music box platforms. She sped up until the surrounding air created a vortex and I was sucked in.
My eyes popped open, and I needed water. I gazed over to ensure Riot was still asleep. I padded out of his room into the kitchen where I downed two glasses, trying to wash away the minor wine headache.
On my way back, I slipped into my room and opened my computer, pulling the crime scene report back up that I had been looking at before Riot invited me to the drive-in movie.
Victimwasfoundlying on her back between the dining area and kitchen. Victim’s bodywasface up with three distinct puncture wounds in the abdomen.
There was an outline of a body with three Xs, which indicated where the stab wounds were found.
Mobile device was found shattered in the corner of the dining room.
I paused, recalling Riot’s words.
She was face down in the kitchen…
Her phone…was on the kitchen counter.
Could it be possible that Riotmisremembered? It didn’t seem right.I’dinterviewedenough trauma victims to know that they oftenrecalledthe tiniest details correctly.
The police reportwasshort,writtenby Godot’s best and brightest, whichwasn’tsaying much.
But itcontradictedwhat Riotsaid. Even for acut-rate, backwoods West Virginia police force, itwasunlikely that anyone with two eyes and a semi-functional brain could get simple details like that wrong.
I found the name of the reporting officer .
Officer Emery Plainbottom.
Plainbottom.
Fuck, this town was small.
I did a quick White Pages search and found he was Arthur’s brother, which made him Katie’s uncle.
I also uncovered his last known address, which, of course, was still in Godot.
He was in the Valley, though, which I found interesting.
I had assumed that the Plainbottoms were a well-off family given how involved with the church they were.
I needed to talk to Emery, and I needed to get my hands on the crime scene photos.
I snuck back into Riot’s room where he slept, shirtless, draped in the soft white sheet. He looked young. Innocent. Vulnerable. A wave of guilt ran through me.
If I’m going to be asking questions, I should tell him why I came back to Godot.
I should tell him that Ihadbeenassignedto root out the very story hetrustedwith me earlier that week. And that Ihadalsokilledit (in my head, at least) weeks ago.
As Iclimbedinto bed, Iscannedhis face, the mooncastinga soft glow on his features, a peaceful warmthrelaxinghis brow. Ihatedthe idea of himdistrustingme, but the longer thiswenton the worse it would be if I didn’t explain myself.
“One more day, Riot,” I whispered inaudibly, snuggling next to him. “Just give me one more day.”