Chapter 28
When I see her surrounded by my doves, she blends in perfectly. Their beauty complements each other and creates a breathtaking masterpiece. To my surprise, the birds took a liking to her from the moment she walked into the aviary. Normally, they don”t like strangers; in fact, they are skittish when even Kyle or Mrs. Collins are around, and they frequently take care of them when I”m gone. I watch her hold one of my oldest and best-behaved birds. The little one coos happily at Evelyn, gently stroking the dove”s puffy chest with the back of her hand. ”They really like you,” I say with a small smile, and keep filling their shallow tub with clean water so they can keep themselves spotless.
Evelyn has a big smile on her face as she interacts with the bird. ”They do,” she says, ”I never thought I would feel so comfortable around pigeons someday.”
”They”re not pigeons.” I glare at her while she looks at me with a big, playful grin. She knows how much my birds mean to me. She sat through a long lesson about the Columbidae family of birds, learning how there are about three hundred different species and the differences between pigeons and doves. The lecture must have been boring for her, but she sat through it, listened carefully, and let me ramble on without ever interrupting. She gave me the feeling that she really cared about what was important to me. But ever since then, she has made it her mission to tease me about it.
”I”m just messing with you.” She chuckles and hands the dove back to me, which coos happily as I take it and return it to its nest. ”It”s fun to tease you about this because it”s one of the few things I see you get emotional about,” she says, and I can”t help but let out a small, disapproving rumble from my chest. Stepping closer, she wraps her arms around my middle and hugs me tight.
”Noah, can I ask you something else?” She looks up at me.
”About the birds? Sure,” I answer, checking on one of the nests where a pair of squabs are being fed by their parents.
”It”s not about the birds.” With my interest piqued, I turn to face her. ”I know it”s against etiquette to ask this question, but who hired you to kill me?”
I freeze in her embrace. The sudden realization hits me like a brick–I forgot something important. I was so caught up by the fact that I had finally caught her that I completely forgot about my employer. My mind races as I fidget with my fingers, rubbing the tips against the palm of my hand in a soothing gesture. I haven”t come up with a plan yet, but I have to. Fast.
”Noah?” Her voice breaks my train of thought, and my head jerks back to look at her, my eyes wide.
”Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts for a moment.” I reach between us and grab my phone from my pocket, unlocking the screen and pulling up Mr. Williams’s details before handing the device to her. ”He”s the one who hired me.”
She takes my phone and scrolls through the information. Her face hardens, deep lines of anger forming on her face.
”Do you know why he hired you?”
”No, I never ask for reasons because I don”t care why they want someone dead,” I say, watching the lines on her forehead deepen.
”I see.”
”Will you tell me why?” Raising my eyebrows, I take my phone back and look at a picture of the old man on my screen. It”s clear this is bothering her; she”s tense and can barely hide her anger.
”My last hit was his son.”
”Why did you kill his son?” I ask, tilting my head and breaking the so-called etiquette myself.
”The man who hired me has a daughter who met Mr. Williams” son at a party. She was drugged and forced, along with other women, into one of his many gang rape parties.” She explains, and as her words leave her mouth and sink into me, my mind begins to spin, overflowing with memories I have kept locked away for over a decade.
”Did I hear you right?” I say, trying to sound as normal as possible. But my heart is pounding in my chest, and the world around me is spinning as my stomach twists and nausea creeps from my stomach up my throat.
”Yes.”
”And you said gang rape, that means there was more than one perpetrator?”
”I don”t know the exact number and who, but yes.”
”And they”re still out there, alive?”
”As far as I know, only Mr. Williams, as the organizer, had a target on his back.”
I gag and shove her away, storming out of the aviary. I can”t hold it in anymore; the taste of bile fills my mouth, and as soon as I step out the door, my stomach cramps and the contents force their way out.
”Noah!” Her voice reaches me, but only as a faint whisper in the distance.
Hunched over, I hold on to the mesh wall, my breathing ragged, my chest tight as if my lungs were giving up on me. The soft touch of her hands on my cheeks startles me. She forces my head to look at her, her forehead leaning against mine.
”Breathe with me,” she says, taking a deep breath, and I copy her. It takes a few attempts before I”m able to form another coherent thought. Her arms wrap tightly around my stomach. Lifting my hand, I rub my eyes, trying to wipe the tension from my face.
Fuck.
”I”m honestly not surprised at all,” Kyle says, standing next to me, holding onto the back of my chair, and leaning forward, balancing himself on my desk with his other hand. Our eyes are on the screen of my laptop in front of us, which shows information about Mr. Williams and his shady business. After Evelyn told me all about her last job, I decided to do my own research on the man, and to no one”s surprise, he had been involved. He may not have participated in the actual deed, but he lavishly funded his sons” parties and made sure there were no legal repercussions.
I nervously drum my index finger on the space bar of my laptop, thinking about what to do. Skimming through the text messages on screen from people attending these parties and seeing the thumbnails of the videos they share makes my blood boil. After my initial panic attack in front of Evelyn–which I wasn”t ready to explain to her–my anxiety has been replaced by nothing but primal rage. My fingers itch to grab one of my machine guns and kill everyone involved.
”Are you listening?” I jump at the warm sensation of Kyle”s hand touching my shoulder. My other hand reaches for my chest, but I”m not wearing my holster tonight.
”Yeah, sorry, it”s just a lot for me to digest,” I say, rubbing my eyes through my lids.
”I figured.” He squeezes my shoulder before he lets go and leans forward, scrolling through the many pages of documents. He knows not to push the topic. He”s been through everything with me and doesn”t need any more explanations. ”Does she know you”re doing this?” His voice draws me back, and I open my eyes to a collection of pictures of Evelyn that Mr. Williams sent me on the screen.
”No, she doesn”t. I usually go to my office at night when she is asleep.”
”So she”s in your bed right now, probably wearing the bare minimum of clothing,” Kyle says with a devilish grin on his face. ”And you would rather spend your time with me in your office? I am flattered, really, but I think you got your priorities all messed up,” he teases.
”Shut up,” I warn, pushing him out of the way before getting up and walking around my desk to the small coffee table with a tray holding a bottle of whiskey and glasses.
”How are things going with her anyway?” he asks, dropping into my chair and rocking back and forth.
I pour myself a glass of whiskey and down it in one go. ”Good, she is getting more comfortable every day. She recently asked me to decorate the house a bit. She says it”s too dark and needs to be changed if she”s going to be here longer.”
”Hold on a second, she”s decorating your house?” Kyle bursts out laughing. ”She”s been here for what, three weeks, tops?” He shakes his head, the amusement at the situation written all over his face. ”You really are a wimp, man. You made her the boss of the house in no time.”
I hide my smile behind the rim of my second drink. ”I”ll do anything to keep her here. If she wants to redecorate, sure. I don”t care. As long as she”s here with me, my house is her house,” I say, and I see Kyle roll his eyes at my explanation.
”You really love this chick, don”t you?”
I fall silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. Do I love her?
”I don”t know. I never learned what love should feel like or what it really is. I can read about it and watch movies all I want, but I don”t think I”ll ever really understand it.”
”You”re not supposed to understand love; it”s supposed to be complicated,” Kyle says with a grin. ”What do you feel when you see her?”
”It is strongest in the morning when I wake up and see her sleeping next to me. It feels like my heart stops beating for a second, and my chest feels tight and warm. My stomach feels queasy, like I have a stomach bug, but a good kind of stomach bug.” I try to explain, not sure if any of my words make any sense.
”Sounds like you”re either on drugs, or you”re falling in love.”
”I don”t do drugs other than alcohol and cigarettes.”
”Which means that Noah Philip Holman, the infamous White Dove Killer, is in love,” Kyle says. ”That I get to experi–” The loud sound of shattering glass cuts him off. Kyle and I both jerk our heads towards the door. While I raise my eyebrows in confusion. Kyle grins from ear to ear. ”I guess your dove overheard our little conversation,” he says with a mocking tone.
Putting down my glass, I push open the door and leave the room, where I find her crouching, barefoot, next to the shattered lamp, trying to pick up the pieces. At the sound of my approaching footsteps on the wooden floor, her head snaps up in my direction, and she jumps back to her feet. I see the panic on her face with her eyes wide open. Like a deer caught in the headlights. Her hair is tangled from tossing in the sheets, and the satin rope of her matching nightgown is loose and slips off her shoulders, pulling down the thin straps of the short dress as well.
”Are you all right?” I ask, stepping into the broken glass with my shoes on, squatting down in front of her, and checking her feet for any injuries.
”Yes, I”m sorry for interrupting you two,” she says.
I stand back up after making sure she”s really not hurt, cup her cheeks in my hands, and plant a kiss on her lips. I steal a glance at her exposed collarbone. If Kyle wasn”t in my office, I”d drag her to bed and fuck her, but that”ll have to wait. Hooking my fingers into the thin straps, I pull them back up over her shoulders, adjusting the rope to cover more of her chest. ”Trouble sleeping?”
”Sort of.”
”All right, go back to bed, Dove. I’ll be there in a few minutes with some hot tea, okay?”
”That sounds wonderful,” she says with a nod and turns around, hurrying back to the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her.
I grunt at Kyle”s weight crushing down on me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders.
”Pretty little girl you got there. Do you share?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I shove him off me. ”Please, just leave. I”ll call you if I need anything.”