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Tethered Bond
  • Текст добавлен: 3 октября 2016, 19:23

Текст книги "Tethered Bond"


Автор книги: Emma Hart



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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“Are you all right?” Drake bends in front of me, his T-shirt stretching across his shoulders. It’s an old one—this much I know.

I swallow harshly. “I’m okay,” I say softly, my eyes going to the back door. “Are the shoe prints all done?”

“They’re dusting for fingerprints now. Unless they were wearing gloves—and we’re assuming they were—then we should get something.”

“They… They wanted to kill us. Didn’t they?” Bek’s voice travels hesitantly from my kitchen door.

Brody has his arm around her back, and it looks like he’s holding her up. My own fear minimizes in the face of my best friend’s.

“Possibly,” I reply, my voice quiet. “Are you okay?” I go to stand up, but my legs shake, and Drake pushes me straight back down.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Are you?”

I nod, lying just as she did.

“Sheriff?” Brody turns to the graying man holding on to his cup of coffee as though it’s another body part. “Can I take her home? She needs to sleep this off.” He glances at me.

“Don’t worry about work,” I reassure Bek, meeting her green eyes. “Take today off, tomorrow if you need, yeah? I’ll make sure you get paid.”

“You don’t—”

“Extenuating circumstances,” I cite. “Don’t argue with me. I’m the boss, and I’m telling you to take two days paid. This’ll be around town by lunchtime. Hide out, and if you need anything, text me. I don’t wanna argue with you, Bek.”

She takes a deep breath, forming a small smile. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Take her home, Bond,” Sheriff Bates orders. “You, Bond,” he clarifies unnecessarily, pointing at Brody. “Not you, Bond,” he adds, pointing at me. “You… Well, do what you want. You’re gonna do it anyway.”

“Please don’t encourage her,” Drake mutters, rubbing his face and standing up. “She’s bad enough as it is.”

“Hey,” I snap. “Still mad at you.”

Sheriff Bates does a strange imitation of a duck face and focuses on me. “We’re gonna be here for a while. I can call your father to come and take you home if you’d like.”

I smack my lips and grimace. Go there? Now? When I’m still in a space between scared and not scared, undecided on how I actually feel? No.

My mom and my nonna’s fussing over me is the very last thing I need right this second.

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll just wait until y’all are done.” I smile in what I hope is a reassuring way.

“I’ll take you to my place,” Drake offers, leaning against the counter opposite me. “You want me to get you some things?”

Uh, what part of I’m mad at him isn’t he understanding?

“No, no. I’m good. I’ll wait.”

“Noelle,” he bites out.

“Drake,” I mimic.

“Good Lord,” Sheriff Bates grumbles. “Noelle, let the man take you home. I’d feel better if you were there opposed to somewhere your cr—grandmother could get to you.”

I take a deep breath and stare at Drake. “Fine.”

The spark in his eyes is anything but triumphant. “Thank you.”

Oh my fucking God.

I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. The pounding of my heart is only just quieter than the squeaking opening of the door.

This bed doesn’t smell like me. It’s coffee and chocolate and gunpowder peppered with cinnamon and cookies. It’s Drake.

That revelation calms the beat of my heart if only by a little.

The bed creaks, and the clink of a mug on the nightstand by my head has me forcing my eyes open. I find Drake’s strong silhouette almost immediately. His eyes are full of worry and concern, his lips drawn into a thin line, and he’s no longer wearing the white shirt he was in the early hours. He’s now wearing sweatpants and his favorite, faded Cowboys T-shirt.

“You feel any better?” he asks, resting his elbows on his knees and keeping his eyes focused on me.

I shift so I’m sitting up and cast a glance down. Oh goodie. I’m still in my old penguin pajamas. My level of hotness must be off the charts right now. Planet Mercury’s got nothin’ on me.

I nod. “What time is it?”

“Almost lunchtime. You passed out in the truck. I think the shock got to you.”

Shock?

Oh.

That shock.

“It’s okay,” he says hurriedly, putting one hand on my leg, the covers between us. “They found a selection of prints. I heard half an hour ago that your family, Bek, Alison, Amelia, and I have been ruled out. They think they got a palm print from the door that doesn’t match any of us.”

“I guess that’s something,” I mutter, picking at a loose thread on the duvet cover. “And the boots?”

“Nothing yet. If one of them matches the print picked up at Tracey’s, then we’ll get in contact with the companies we have on file to see if we can get a brand match on the sole.”

Standard procedure.

I nod again and look at my hands. “It was the killers, wasn’t it?”

Drake takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Everything adds up, so it looks like it.”

I swing my legs out of bed and walk toward his bathroom. Then I close the door behind me, lock it, and lean back against it.

That settles it. Someone really did try to kill me—and they tried to get me at my weakest. When I was sleeping.

What if Bek wasn’t there? What if she didn’t wake me up? What if neither of us had heard a thing—where would we be now? Lying somewhere in a field? Cut open, raped, runes carved into our skin?

Bile rises in my throat, and I clap my hand over my mouth as though that’ll hold it down.

Did they even know what happened to them? Toni? Melissa? Annabelle? Tracey? Did they have any idea what was happening, or were they blindsided?

What if they didn’t? What if they all just did their thing—went to school, got on a plane, went to the fair, went to work, then never ended up where they were meant to? What if a simple part of their day turned out to be the last thing they ever did?

What if going to bed with Bek after a bottle of wine, a pizza, and half a season of Empire was the last thing we ever did?

What if we’d had our dignity and then, ultimately, our lives ripped away from us so brutally and violently that we never took another breath and had a chance to consider what could have been?

Then what?

Would I ever have told Amelia that she made the right choice? Would I ever have told Alison that I was always glad Trent chose her, that I never judged her for getting pregnant so young? Would I ever have told Nonna that her crazy obsession with love was cute?

Would I ever have told Grecia that I don’t really mind if she dates Mike? Would I have told Silvio that he can steal every cookie off the cooling rack because, as long as the chocolate chips melt around his mouth, I’ll always pretend to believe him when he denies it?

No.

No, I wouldn’t have.

Oh my God.

I could have died, and so many people… So many people never would have known how I really feel.

Would I have died mad at Drake?

Yes. Yes, I would have. Undoubtedly. I would have died with so much anger in my heart that my soul would have carried it off to wherever souls go when the body goes bye-byes.

But I’m not dead. I’m alive. I’m alive and I’m scared and I’m angry.

I force myself up onto shaky legs and tug at the door handle. The lock jams it, so I hiss a curse and unlock it before I pull it open again. The door slams against the frame and almost hits me as it doubles back. Drake’s eyes find mine with a sharp twist of his head, and he frowns, his dark eyebrows pulling together.

“Why didn’t you tell me? About Alex? Or Jason. Whatever his name is? Why did you hide that from me? Why did you never tell me this isn’t the first string of murders like this? Why? Why would you keep that from me?” I rush my hands through my hair, tugging roughly. I welcome the sting snaking across my scalp.

“I don’t know,” he answer softly. “I guess… I guess I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want you to panic.”

“Didn’t want me to panic?” My voice goes up a notch. “I’m panicking, Drake. I’m panicking like hell because I could have died tonight. I was mad at you and deliberately ignored your orders to keep me safe because I didn’t know how much danger I was potentially in.”

He stands up. “What do you want me to say, Noelle? That I’m sorry? That I was wrong for trying to protect you?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what I want you to do!”

“Then I’m sorry!” he yells, his voice rough. “I’m sorry I did what I thought was best. I’m sorry for trying to fucking protect you. But you know what else I’m sorry for? You.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He comes closer to me until he’s right in front of me, towering over me. His eyes sear into mine, holding my gaze so compellingly that I can’t look away despite my best efforts. “It means that my telling you wouldn’t have changed a thing. You still would have insisted you could protect yourself.”

“I can. My window didn’t shoot itself out to scare off murderers.”

He presses two fingers to my lips. “You still would have insisted you could protect yourself, and you still would have ignored me yesterday. You still would have done your own thing in your special little brand of fucking independent defiance just to piss me off. It wouldn’t have mattered a damn bit.”

I push his hand away, but he’s stronger and replaces his fingers over my mouth.

“You want me to tell you everything? The case files are all in my office. Go ahead. You’ll be here enough to find plenty of time to read them.”

“I’ll be here enough?”

This time, he lets me shove his hand away.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says slowly, quietly, almost threateningly, like I’d be stupid to argue with him, “that you’re staying here until this case is solved. You’re safe here with me.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Am I really hearing this right? “You’re forcing me to live with you?”

“Forcing, convincing—same thing.”

I push past him and take a deep breath before turning back. “You’re insane. You’re totally fucking insane.”

“I couldn’t keep you safe!” His voice cracks, and he covers his eyes with his hand. “I tried, Noelle. I tried so fucking hard, but you made it impossible because you’re so damn independent.”

“You have no idea why!” I point at him, my stomach tightening.

“So tell me!” He drops his hand. “It’s Dallas, isn’t it? It’s what happened that made you come back home.”

I lick my lips, the ball of anxiety in my stomach as heavy as lead.

“The one thing you won’t tell me. The one thing you and your whole family have kept secret.” He holds one finger up. “So think about that before you stand there and criticize me for hiding something from you. I did it to protect you. You’re doing it because you’re so afraid of being weak.”

He walks past me, his steps thundering across the wooden floor of his landing. I take a deep breath and it burns. It burns as it fills my lungs, and it burns as the oxygen filters its way through my bloodstream.

“You’re right,” I admit, my voice shaking. “I am afraid of being weak. But I have a lot to make up for. I don’t want anyone to be responsible for me, and I don’t want to be responsible for anyone.”

“Newsflash, Noelle,” Drake growls, turning back to face me. “When you’re in a relationship with someone, you’re responsible for each other. You’re responsible for each other’s safety and happiness and even weakness. You’re responsible for mine, but you won’t let me be for yours because you continue to keep this from me. And now? When it matters? You still won’t tell me, will you?”

“It has nothing to do with this case.”

“But it has everything to do with you!” He stops in front of me and frames my face, tilting it back.

I drop my eyes and look at the slightly frayed collar of his T-shirt instead.

“I forget how fierce you are. I forget how goddamn stubborn and frustrating you are. But I love that. I love your independence until you take it to the point of stupidity. I should have told you about Jason and the cases. I’ll admit that. But you…” He laughs hopelessly and drops his hands, taking a few steps back.

My heart is pounding. It’s been years since I’ve said the words out loud, and I’m scared. I’m scared of reliving every footstep and every gunshot and every scream, every tire squeak. It terrifies me to go back there.

It terrifies me to put into words how the guilt I carry drives me every day—drives my independence.

I don’t want anyone to depend on me. That’s when I fuck it all up.

As proven by this whole situation right now. People depend on me to find this killer, and what do I do? Almost get my best friend killed. And myself, yeah. But Bek…

Adrenaline sizzles through me. It’s not a hyped adrenaline. It’s a slow, gentle buzz of strength and apprehension. The same one I felt on that day… The day I was always supposed to make a difference but blew it all.

“It was huge,” I say softly, wrapping my arms around my midsection.

Drake stops in the doorway at my words.

“We’d been working on the case for months. Almost a year, gathering evidence, surveillance, informants. We even had a two guys undercover. We were working with the Texas Rangers to get it done, and that night was it. That was the night we’d get the bust.”

I’m shaking.

“I can still see it. We all got in our unmarked cars, and at points through the day, we got to the warehouse where all the exchanges would be taking place. We took our places and we waited. It was in silence. None of us could speak.” I hug myself tighter. “I begged…begged…my boss to change his mind, to put one of the more qualified officers in my place. I’d never made the calls before and I was scared. All of these officers…potentially hundreds of lives… They were all under my control. But if I got it right…” I squeeze my eyes shut to fight back the harsh sting. “If I got it right and there was no other option, then I’d save so many people and I’d have gotten the promotion to Detective in a heartbeat. I wanted that move so badly that I stopped fighting and accepted that this was my responsibility.”

Drake doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He just…stares at me. Watches as I feel the cracks begin to form in my façade. In my heart.

“One hundred and forty-three kids,” I whisper. “My job was to save all of these missing children and make the call that’d save them from a life of unimaginable horror. The trafficking ring had been growing in Dallas and Fort Worth for years, and this was the closest we’d ever come. We knew that, if we got the little guys and gave the right plea bargains, they’d squeak on the big guys. And, even if we didn’t catch them, we’d get the kids.”

The rumble of the truck pulling up to the warehouse thunders in my mind.

“The signal from our guy on the inside was wrong. I made the wrong call. We moved too early. Barely any of the kids had been removed from the truck. Shots were being fired everywhere. One of the kids got injured. One of my colleagues died. Loads of others were injured—some seriously, some barely grazed. We saved fifteen children. Out of one hundred and forty three. Because I acted before I thought. I should have seen that the signal was too early and waited. That’s what the others would have done. They never said it, but I knew.”

Silence dances between us for a moment. Then I wipe away a tear that’s slipping down my cheek and look up at Drake.

“There you go. Now, you know. The single biggest fuck-up of my life and the one that changed everything. I live with the guilt every day, even if I don’t focus on it anymore. That’s why I’m so independent. I learned that day that I can’t lead a team that needs to be by my side. I need to be alone and do the things I do when I want to. I’m independent because I’m scared to be anything else.”

Drake rubs his hand down his face, pinching his lips at the end. He shudders out one long breath that echoes in the silence of the room. “Fuck. Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I perch on the edge of the bed. “I have enough apologies of my own. It happened. The guys were caught a couple months later, but all the kids weren’t. I left the day after. I was back in Holly Woods within a week. I’ve accepted it and spent every day since trying to make it better in my own mind. But that’s why.” I look up and meet his gaze. “I need to be independent. I need to protect myself because I’m the only person I can count on. It’s why it’s so damn hard for me to hand it over to you.”

“You’re just waiting for someone to let you down, aren’t you?” he asks quietly, his eyes narrowing. “You’re just waiting for someone to do to you what you did to the kids.”

I run my tongue over my top lip but don’t answer.

He doesn’t need me to answer.

“You’re waiting for me to do it, aren’t you?”

I take a deep breath and get up, turning away from him. “I want you to protect me, but I wish you wouldn’t. I want you to not treat me like I’m a paper bag in the middle of a thunderstorm, but I want you to be there when I need you because I’m selfish. I want you to tell me everything but keep the things that’ll hurt to yourself. I want you to keep me safe, but at the same time, I want you to let me keep myself safe. I’m a walking fucking contradiction, Drake. I have no idea what I really want. I just know that I’m so mad at you right now because you didn’t tell me something so huge.”

“And knowing what I know now…if you knew, you wouldn’t have agreed to work with the police, would you?”

“Hell no!” It comes out as a shout, and I cover my mouth. “No,” I say, letting my hand fall. “Not in a million damn years.”

“Then I’m glad I kept it. You know we need you. You know you’re the best detective we don’t have.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” I turn to look at him. “Not for me. All of these people… They’re dying. There’s probably someone right now in this town getting kidnapped because they missed out on me. I don’t want to have anything to do with this case. I don’t want you to tell me a single thing about it.”

He shrugs. “All right. I won’t.”

“You won’t? But I want you to. I want you to ignore me, dammit!”

“What the—you just said not to!”

“I know!” I run my fingers through my hair again. “See? Contradiction. Walking. Talking. Contradictions shouldn’t be able to walk or talk! So tell me everything, but at the same time, don’t.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, the words muffled by the sound of him pulling his shirt over his head. He throws it into the hamper. “I have no idea if I love you or severely dislike you right now.”

What did he just say?

Oh no. He didn’t.

He did.

He just L-worded me.

Holy fucking shit.

“Did you just… Did you…” I trail off, my heart thumping. Oh God, it’s not even two-stepping. It’s like a waltz, a rumba, and a salsa all mixed together. My pulse is thundering in my ears.

“Did I just tell you I love you?” Drake lifts an eyebrow.

“Y-yes. That.”

“Would it scare you if I told you I do?”

“Yes. It’d terrify me.”

“Good. It should.” He walks toward me. His toned body isn’t even enough of a distraction for me right now.

Drake runs his thumb along my jaw then brushes it across my lower lip. My skin is on fire under his touch.

“I figured that, while we’re apologizing and making admissions, I should make my own,” he says softly. “You just told me your biggest secret. Your biggest fear. Well, mine is losing you. You get that, bella? My biggest fear is you not being here anymore. I don’t always protect you right. Maybe I should talk to you more, but it’s instinct. It just happens. I can’t control it where you’re concerned. So, yes, I do want you to stay here until this case is done. I’m selfish. I need you where I know you’re safe. And that’s all for one reason.”

“Please don’t,” I whisper. “If you say it, then it’s real.”

“You think the words are what makes it real? No. You do. Every time you sass me or laugh or get territorial.” His lips quirk up. “That’s what makes it real.”

I look up.

Wrong move.

Oh, God.

He cups my face and touches his forehead to mine for a second. When he pulls back, it’s only to drop his lips to mine and kiss me so softly that it could be a whisper. “I love you, Noelle.”

“You need your head tested,” I croak.

“I already have an appointment for next week.” He smiles, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

My lips twitch, but they’re weak. “I’m scared to love you,” I whisper.

“Good,” he whispers right back. “Because I’m petrified of the fact that I love you.”

He kisses me again, and this time, I swear I taste the truth behind his words.

“Drake?”

“What?”

I run my teeth over my bottom lip. “I’m pretty sure I love you too.”

“Pretty sure?” He quirks an eyebrow, his lips tugging up too.

“Do you have cupcakes?”

He drops his hands to my waist. “What kind of amateur do you think I am?”

“Okay.” I pause. “What kinds?”

“Chocolate, lemon, raspberry, and champagne.”

I gasp. “Who did you send to Gigi’s?”

He grins. “You’ve been passed out for five hours. I had your dad come over in case you woke up and drove over there.”

Damn. Now, I’m all full of warm fuzzies.

“All right,” I say through my smile. “I’m sure.” I move onto my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. Then I kiss him hard.

His arms wrap around my waist and hold me against him.

“I love you,” I say.

“Only ’cause I bought you Gigi’s.”

“That may or may not be an influencing factor.”

He laughs and guides me downstairs, making sure to touch me the whole way down. Any other day, it’d annoy me. Between the break-in, telling him about Dallas, and the L-wording, I feel like I might snap, so the warmth of his hand is welcome.

The pink Gigi’s box is in the middle of his kitchen table, and I pounce on it like a cat and a wool ball. Or a pregnant lady and ice cream. I tear the sticker off and open it, and I’m pretty sure I feel my heart jump into my eyes at the colorful array of sugary, cupcakey goodness in front of me. I snatch up the champagne one and scoop a huge fingerful of frosting into my mouth.

I moan. Don’t judge me.

Drake chuckles and flattens his hands on the table. “God, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to replace a window.”

“It was a window or you.” He kisses the side of my head then reaches for the bag of coffee beans. “The window is cheaper.”

“Of course it is. I’m priceless.”

He glances at me over his shoulder. “You’re at least worth a hundred bucks.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’d sleep with one eye open if you’re going to sass me like that, Detective.”

“Are you saying you’re going to stay here?”

“Are you going to let me do anything else?”

“No.”

“Well, then. Here’s the plan. I want to know when I can get into my house to get some things. Then you’re going to call… Uh…”

“Jason,” Drake laughs. “He’s Jason to me.”

“Jason… And I want to know everything about these old cases and how they link to ours.”

He sets a cup of coffee in front of me just as I lick frosting off my finger. His eyes drop to my mouth and flicker with lust before he meets my gaze.

“I thought you weren’t interested.”

I lick some frosting from the corner of my mouth and grin. “I’m a dirty liar.”


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