“No.” Rage bursts through my veins the way water explodes from an open dam. “Police took too long to get to the scene. The crowd was too thick, toohelpful. Too distracting. And though I saw the guy’s face for a second, he was gone before I could think to stop him. I guess it was drunk driving or something.” Frustrated, I lower my shoulders and glower. “He ran away and hasn’t come forward to confess. So…”
“And the police haven’t been able to trace the vehicle registration or anything?”
I study the clip on Lincoln’s tie, the shiny gold glittering in the sunlight. “They told me to be patient. That’s it.” Bringing my eyes up again, I flatten my lips and take a step back. “Anyway. Thanks for coming out today.” I’m done discussing it, and I sure as hell have no desire to move on to the annoying small talk no one enjoys. “Safe travels when you leave again.”
“Wait.” He charges forward with surprising speed, searching my eyes with a slow, sweeping stare. “D-do you wanna get coffee or something? I spent years with your brother, and now he’s just…” He exhales. “He’s gone. And he told me so many stories about you, I feel like we’re already old friends. Which is insane.” He sighs. “Since we met three minutes ago. I just thought… Coffee? I’m here all alone, so I could do with a friendly face.”
Coffee?
With my brother’s friend?
“Nova?” Alicia stops on my left, gently wrapping her hand around my biceps and pulling me into her side. “Sweetie. We’re heading to Duke’s now. If you’re too tired, I can make your excuses and get you out of here. But if you want to join us, I can be your guard.”
Lincoln’s brows furrow until a deep line digs between them. “Who’s Duke? And why do you need a guard?”
“To protect me from all the hugs and well wishes.” I extricate myself from Alicia’s hold. “I’m going home. But thanks for asking.” Then, I offer Lincoln a kind smile. “I don’t want to get coffee.” Turning on my heels and bringing my hand up to shield my peripherals, I pass Ryan’s plot and swallow the grief balling in the depths of my throat before it chokes me.
I’m going home.
Alone.
Where I can be with Ryan’s things and sit in his room for as long as the scent of his cologne lingers. And if I’m lucky, I might sleep.
It’s been scarce for a week, and in the small snatches I’ve mustered, I’m plagued with the memories of our last moments together. I can’tnotsee his stare, his beautiful hazel eyes holding mine, even after the life had left his body.
He protected me to the end, and I can’t help but wonder if he’d protected himself instead, that maybe he’d still be here today.
Worse, I’m not sure the trade-off was worth it.
6
LINCOLN
NO FUCKING CHANCE
Iwander the streets of Mount Gaines, a small town with a touristy feel during the busy season, located in the asshole of Utah, with desert ranges on one side and mountains on the other. Main Street is where most business takes place, while amongst the trees and valleys and foothills, residential homes nestle in what they consider far enough from the neighbors that no one bothers anyone else, but close enough to town that if you need company, it’s easy to come by.
This is where Terrance and Jennifer Nichols raised a family and hid away from the world. And it’s where three of four Nicholses are already in the ground.
I have no clue what karma god they pissed off to end up on Richard Aster’s radar, but here we are, and though my gut rolls with dread each time I consider the sweet, pretty, tearful Nova Nichols all alone in the world, I have a job to do and adifferentwoman to keep safe.
And really, the factI’mhere—instead of Tank—is a blessing she has no clue she received.
Slipping car keys into my pocket and my hands right after, I stand on the sidewalk of the town I studied into the late hours of last night, while my home, the one Aster secured for me, creaked and groaned as day turned to night. I now know where Dukes is, as well as the grocery store. The library, bookstores, cafés, and thrift shops, too. I know where Nova buys her food, and on which day of the week she does it. I know where she parks her truck.
Or, well…usedto park her truck.
For now, she’s stuck with a rental until she finds something else.
I know where she works, and that the park is just a few blocks away. She likes to go there on her lunch break five days a week, to settle in and eat a sandwich, while tossing a little extra to the squirrels who drop by.
Nova Nichols is a loner by nature. Not unapproachable, but certainly happy in her own company.
I turn on the sidewalk and spy the bank across the street, the dark-brown brick and massive square building that anchors the entire main street. To my left, and towering over the town, are tall mountains. And on my right, millions of trees stretch into forever and create the perfect backdrop to what, no doubt, made it onto the town postcard.
I’m on the clock, brutally aware that day one was a bust and day two is upon us. She didn’t want coffee yesterday. But maybe today will go better.
If it doesn’t, we’re both fucked.
