37. Riot
Riot
H urt, pain, disappointment, devastation, anger, heartbreak.
I couldn’t think of a single word that encompassed the utter hollowness I was feeling.
I liked the anger. It felt good. It felt hot.
I knew when I stopped being angry I would start to break so I held on to it for dear life.
Betrayal wracked my body, leaving me hollow and shaking.
As we got into the backseat, the questions flooded my brain. How could she? Had it all been a game? Had it all been for the story? Was I just another plot angle? I knew her professional career was in the toilet but did she have it in her to use me like that for a job?
Istaredout the backseat window, the distant but distinct memory of the last timeI’dbeen in the back seat of a law enforcement vehicleflashedinto my brain.
The lights, the sirens. The smoke coming from the house theyextinguished. And then therewasthe panic. Notknowingwhatwasgoingtohappen to me. Or to my brother.
It felt different this time. These weren’t Godot officers, and I wasn’t in handcuffs. There wasn’t even a partition between the back seat and the front.
When weparkedoutside the town courthouse, Isearchedfor the other car thathadtakenmy brother away but I didn’t see it. Dreadcreptthrough me with its skeletal hand.
I could feel Nicolette’s eyes on me,beggingme to look at her but I couldn’t. IknewI would see pleadingmixedwith wide-eyedfear and despite how viciously Itoldmyself Ihatedher, her tear-stainedface would melt me and Iwantedto hold on to my anger.
I never wrote the story, I decided very early on that I wasn’t going to.
Could that be true? Ihatedmyself for the hope thatbloomedin my chest.
Iavoidedher gaze as the two officersledus into a small study room in the courthouse.
“We’ll be right back, make yourselves at home.”Iwantedto punch the condescending tone right out of his voice box.
When the door shut behind them we were alone and I braced myself for Nicolette to launch into more defense, but when I stole a glance over she was quiet, gazing around the room before her eyes landed on the door.
“Who did you tell?” I seethed through gritted teeth.
She spoke without looking at me. “I didn’t tell anyone, Riot.” The solemnness on her face almost made me believe her. “When you opened the door, and they showed you their badges, what did it say?”
I didn’t like the tightness in her voice. “They said they were federal agents.”
Her eyes whipped to me. I saw her chest rise and fall and despite myself I let my focus fall to her mouth before meeting her gaze, our eyes tangled with unspoken questions. She turned back around in her chair and scrunched up her eyebrows.
“What would federal agents want with us?”shewhisperedto herself.
“Sorry to keep you.”The female agent re-enteredthe room with a folder, and two cell phones in her hand.
“What are we doing here?” I demanded.
The woman paused. She looked mid-forties, had a slight frame, and piercing green eyes that were innately trustworthy.
“I’m Agent Billings. But you can call me Sam.” She sat down and clasped her hands together across the table like we were ordering lunch.
“Where is my brother?” I demanded. Nicolette softened next to me like she was telling me to tread carefully .
“Brennan is being questioned by a colleague of mine,” she stated. “At our office in Charleston.”
Fear gripped my chest. Would he know to call a lawyer? My phone hadn’t rung, so he hadn’t called me yet, which meant maybe he wasn’t under arrest. What the fuck was going on? I opened my mouth, but Sam placed one of the phones in the middle of the table and pressed play on an audio file.
She sat back and studied us.
I think I stopped breathing when my own voice cut through the speaker.
“‘So, that’s what he did. He went home… By the time I got there, he had already stabbed her three times. Brennan was practically comatose. Clutching the knife and rocking back and forth on the front steps. He just kept repeating ‘I think she’s dead. I think she’s dead.’”
I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I didn’t breathe.
She’d recorded us.
Any trace of hope that Nicolettewasn’taconnivingliarevaporatedinto the stale air in the room. I didn’t look at her. I wouldn’t. But I could tell shewasfrozensolid in the chair next to me.
“Where did you get that?”sheseethed. The anger in her voicesurprisedme.“I didn’t record that. West Virginiaisa one-party consent state and neither of usconsentedto being rec—”
Agent Billings held up her hand and frowned dismissively.
“We intercepted this audio file as it was being sent to local law enforcement.” She studied us, her face impassive. “I need to know which of you sent it.”
We both stared at her. I was speechless. Neither of us spoke.
Samtooka deep breath.“Okay… how about you tell me where you bothwerearound twelve-thirty this afternoon?”
It took me a moment to search my memory earlier today. That binder. Nicolette’s betrayal. It had cut my life in half and everything that came before seemed like it was wrapped in a dream.
“Uhm… Iwaspickingup some scrap metal at Hank Taylor’s junkyard. ”
The female agent studied me, scribbling the name down. Seemingly satisfied, her eyes moved to Nicolette, who sat quietly.
Istolea glance over and through the curtain of blonde hair, I could see the guiltmappedall over her face and the knot in my gutgrewtighter.
“I was visiting Emery Plainbottom.”
Her words punched me in the chest. Agent Billings didn’t even blink. It appeared the name meant nothing to her.
It meant something to me, though. Emery Plainbottom had been my arresting officer.
Fucking hell, Nicolette, what did you do?
The agent studied us for another long minute before standing up. “Okay!” she exclaimed. “You are free to go. My partner will drive you back home.”
“That’s it?” Nicolette’s voice registered surprise and relief. I don’t know why that gave me a modicum of comfort.
“That’sit. We’ll be in touch if wehaveany more questions.”
She disappeared.
We bothletout a long breath simultaneously.
“Riot, I don’t think—”
“Stop,” I commanded. “I don’t want to hear anything more you have to say.”
The car ride backwassilent. The wheels turning in Nicolette’s mindwerealmost audible but Iwasglad shewasn'ttryingto speak anymore. If Iheardone more lie fall from her lips, I would snap.
The rage that bubbled within me was boiling. The depth of her betrayal, staggering.
God, Ihatedher. Ihatedher for lying to me.
Ihatedher forrecordingthat whole goddamn conversation.
Ihatedher forthrowingaway ten years of my life.
And as my thoughtsdriftedto my brother, Ihatedher for taking away the last member of my family.
But mostly, Ihatedher for making me fall in love with her while she did it.
Ihatedher because throughout everything, shewasstill the one person Iwantedto lean on right now.
When we got back to the house, my resolve began to crumble, my rage reaching a violent pressure point. As I darted for my room, she called out.
“Riot, I didn’t send that audio. I never recorded that conversation! I have no idea how they have it!”
And the rage bubbleburst.
“Why should I believe anything you say?” Her face was inches from me and I towered over her cowering frame. “You’ve been lying to me since the day you got here! And now my brother is facing criminal charges in Charleston because of you! ”
“Thosearefederal agents, Riot. They can’t possibly beinterestedin a small-town murder investigation. I understand howupsetyou must be—”
“Clearly, you don’t because if you did understand how upset I am, you’d be packing your bags before I cut the goddamn screen room off the goddamn house!” My voice echoed and the whole room might have been shaking.
“There is no reason for the FBI to look into a closed murder case.”
“Then what could they possibly want with my brother, Nicolette?” I fumed. Her expression registered a thought.
“He helped me with the drone… maybe it has something—”
“Then it’s still your fault! Somehow you are at the center of all of this either way! And now, thanks to you, they have audio evidence my brother killed someone!”
“Riot, I had no idea that existed.”
“Why does it exist, Nicolette? How the fuck could you let that happen? I would have thought of all people, you would be more cautious about fucking recording devices!”
The wounded hurt on her face stoked my anger. Her eyes narrowed.
“What’s that supposed to mean? ”
“It means disaster follows you, Nicolette. It follows you everywhere! At some point,you’regoingtohaveto take a hard look and recognize that you seem to be the source of it.”
I was wrongfully blaming her for that sex tape and even though I didn’t believe that, I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to wound her beyond repair so that she would walk out of my life and leave me to try to put the pieces back together, yet again.
Nicolettelookedas if shehadbeenpunchedin the chest and I couldn’t stand to see the despair on her face anymore.
“Get out. Now. Out of my house. Out of my town. Out of my life.”
Without another word, I spun around and slammed my bedroom door shut so hard something clattered to the floor.
It tugged at the memory of our first kiss when I’d pushed her against the wall and a frame fell over. The memory added a whole new level of pain to my soul. I leaned against my closed door and let the events of the day flood back to me. They were so overwhelming I started to feel dizzy.
Collapsing on the bed, I raked my hands over my face. A sob choked in my throat. Angry, devastated tears rolled from my cheeks onto the pillow, where they mixed with the haunting scent of lilacs.