43. Ridley

43

RIDLEY

Colt was being weird. It wasn’t like he was normally a chatterbox, but he was quieter than normal, lost in his head as the late morning sun streamed in through the vehicle’s window.

I reached over his SUV’s console and pinched his side.

“Ow, shit.” He twisted out of my grasp and sent me a scowl. “What? It’s not enough that your cat almost took my hand off this morning?”

“It was just a?—”

“If you say tooth hug , I’m going to put that cat up for adoption.”

“Colter Brooks, you did not just say that.”

His lips twitched. “Full-naming me? Must mean business.”

“Damn straight, I do. Do not threaten Princess Tater.”

He chuckled, and the action sent warmth spreading through me, the kind of heat that was only his.

“Love that sound,” I said softly.

Colt glanced over at me in question. “My laugh?”

I nodded. “Something about it. It’s gritty and imperfect but more real somehow.”

He turned onto Emerson’s road, his fingers tightening on the wheel. “Feel the same way about your smile. It twists more to one side than the other, but it just makes me want to memorize the shape.”

Pain speared through me. Somewhere along the line, I’d messed up. Because this thing between Colt and me wasn’t just fun and games. It was that, but it was so much more. He saw things in me that no one had ever taken the time to recognize. He understood the colors I painted my world with because he spoke the language of my pain.

And now I couldn’t imagine walking away from him.

But I’d have to. Whether that was in three days or three months, it wouldn’t matter. It would kill a piece of me—the piece I was beginning to love most.

Colt pulled to a stop in front of the sunny-yellow house. His hands didn’t leave the wheel for a moment. His strong fingers flexed around it, then readjusted and flexed again. Finally, he put his SUV in park and turned to me. “Why don’t you come to the station with me instead? You can hole up in one of the conference rooms to work.”

One corner of my mouth kicked up. “First you don’t want me at your house alone. Now staying at Emerson’s isn’t enough, even though Trey’s going to be here too.”

Colt grimaced at the space between us. “Don’t like that Baker’s out on bail and we still don’t know who attacked you.” He reached out, tracing the faint marks on my wrist that I knew would deepen to a darker bruise by tomorrow. “Hate that this happened to you.”

“I don't.”

Colt’s gaze flew to my face. “Why the hell not?”

“Because it showed me what I needed to see. I severed a business relationship that I never should’ve started. But if Baker hadn’t grabbed me, said what he did, I would’ve always wondered if I’d done the right thing. Now, I know I did.”

Colt stared at me for a long moment, his gaze roaming over my face in a gentle caress. “You always see the silver lining.”

My lips pulled into a full smile. “I try. Now kiss me and go catch up on all the work you’ve been missing because of me.”

That familiar scowl was back. “Bossy.”

I leaned across the console, my mouth just a breath away from his. “You like me that way.”

“Damn straight I do.” Colt closed the distance, his hand delving into my hair as I opened for him. His tongue stroked mine, reminding me just how quickly he could spark my body to life.

I pulled away, trying to cut the kiss short so I didn’t climb on top of him in the middle of Emerson’s driveway. “Have a good day, Law Man.”

I was out of the vehicle before he could say another word. I slung my bag over my shoulder and jogged up the steps. Before I reached the porch, the front door opened. Emerson was there, a hint of anxiety bleeding into her features.

A weight settled into my stomach. I’d thought she’d gotten used to me from all the time I’d spent here the other day. I’d had the sense that she trusted me, but maybe I’d been wrong. The last thing I wanted was to cause her any more pain.

I opened my mouth to tell Emerson I could go to the station with Colt, but my words were cut off as she rushed out and pulled me into a hard hug.

“You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you? Trey said you were all right, but he can hedge to protect me sometimes.” Emerson released her hold on me but quickly gripped my shoulders as she did a head-to-toe sweep.

I couldn’t help it; I beamed back at her.

Her brows quirked. “You smile at the reminder of some douchebag grabbing you?”

I shook my head. “I’m smiling because it’s nice to have someone care, and at the reminder that I tased that douchebag’s balls.”

Emerson burst out laughing. “Trey did tell me that part. Come on inside. I’ve got tea brewing.” She gave Colt a wave as Bear weaved around us, and then we headed in.

Emerson led me toward a warm and inviting living room. The space was a patchwork of colors that all somehow managed to work. And the huge picture window that looked out on the backyard only added to the effect.

Through the window, I caught sight of Trey working in the garden. A wheelbarrow sat to the side, already half-full of what looked like weeds. And I didn’t miss that Trey himself had lost his T-shirt somewhere along the line.

As I lowered myself into one of the two overstuffed chairs by the window, I noticed Emerson’s gaze lingering on Trey. I didn’t blame her. If I hadn’t been so caught up in her brother, I would’ve taken advantage of that view a little longer.

A yapping bark made Emerson jump, her gaze pulling from the window, her cheeks flaming. I bent down to greet the little barker. He looked to be more fluff than dog.

“Who’s this?” I asked as I lifted the little Yorkie up into my lap.

Emerson reached for the tea to pour us each a cup. “I forgot you didn’t get to meet Saber the other day. He’s named for his vicious snaggletooth.”

I grinned down at the little guy, who did indeed have a single tooth that seemed to hang over his lip. “Nice to meet you, Saber.” I gave him a scratch behind the ears, and he immediately curled up in my lap.

“He’ll never let you stop now,” Emerson warned.

“Just fine with me. I’ve got a cat who’s the same way.”

She slid a beautiful cup and saucer in my direction. “Sugar? Milk? Honey?”

“Just the tea is perfect.”

Emerson studied me again, a little of the levity leaving her. “You’re really all right?”

“I am. Promise. Well, other than the fact that I’ll have to start this season of my podcast from scratch since I left his company.” I slumped back into the chair. I hadn’t really given myself a chance to think about how I was going to continue telling Emerson’s story without the episodes Baker had under his control.

Emerson lifted her cup to her lips, blowing gently on the liquid inside. “Is that so bad?”

I worried the corner of my lip for a moment, mulling that over. “Rehashing what I’ve already covered is bound to lose me listeners who’ve already heard the information. But if I jump in where I left off, I could confuse people who are new.”

She took a sip of tea, mulling that over. “What if you began where you started with me?”

I shifted in my seat, Saber sending me a dirty look. “What do you mean?”

“What if you start by linking the cases instead of with my case alone? That’s bound to get people invested. Then you can weave in the information you’ve already covered little by little. People who have listened already probably won’t even notice because it’ll be mixed in with the new stuff.”

I was quiet for a long moment. “You want a job as a podcast producer?”

Emerson chuckled as she set her tea down. “I think I’ve got enough on my plate.”

I stared at the tea in my cup, watching the deep orange liquid swirl. “I’ve never talked about my sister on the show. Feels like ripping out a piece of myself and putting it on display.”

“It’s going to connect you with your listeners,” Emerson said softly. “Bond you to them. Because you’re brave enough to share that pain.”

My gaze lifted to hers. “I hope it’s the right thing to do. And that I can get through it.”

Emerson reached across the table and took my hand, squeezing it hard. “You’re Ridley Sawyer, taser of douchebags and tamer of ornery brothers. You can do anything.”

I choked on a laugh as I squeezed Emerson’s hand back. I just hoped she was right.

I sat in the back of my van and pulled the absorption panels into place. The hexagonal foam pieces doubled as décor during my travels but were necessary to cut down on echoing and excess noise. Even though I’d recorded a few podcast episodes from Colt’s driveway, this one felt different. Rawer, more real.

An alert for a video call sounded from my brand-new desktop. I braced, hoping like hell Baker wasn’t trying to call, but I relaxed when I saw Sully’s name on the screen. I hit accept and his lined face filled my monitor.

“How ya feelin’?” he asked, leaning toward his computer’s camera.

I could see the concern in Sully’s face, feel it in his words. That knowledge felt like a warm blanket wrapping around me. I might’ve blown up one part of my professional life, but I still had good people around me.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” But just saying the words out loud had butterflies taking flight in my stomach.

Sully grinned, that small gap between his two front teeth showing. “Hell yes, you are.”

I studied my editor of four years. “Are you sure you want to come with me on this? It’ll mean losing a couple of other gigs.” I was sure Baker would fire Sully the second he realized Sully was still editing for me.

Sully’s face screwed up as if he’d tasted something bad. “That prick can shove it. If I never have to edit another of his shows, I will die a happy man.”

I chuckled. “Tell me how you really feel.”

But Sully didn’t laugh with me; instead his expression went serious. “I’m glad you got out from under his thumb, Rids. You deserve a hell of a lot better than he’s been giving you. I’m just sorry it got to this point.”

My throat burned. “Thanks for having my back, Sull.”

“Always, kiddo. Always. You want me to stay on while you record?”

I shook my head. “I’m good.” I couldn’t stand the thought of someone watching me while I gave voice to everything I’d been working on for so long, while I laid my pain bare for the whole world to hear.

“All right, then. Just shoot me a text when you’re done, and I’ll get to work.”

“Sully, it’s after midnight in New York. Just do it in the morning.”

It was his turn to shake his head. “This is important. I want to get it up first thing tomorrow morning, and you know I’m a night owl.”

I sighed. “Okay. But call it if you get too tired.”

“Will do, boss.”

My lips twitched. “G’night.”

“Good luck,” Sully said as he hit end on the call.

The moment he was gone, I began checking my equipment. The mic was secured in the stand. The cable from that to my audio interface was good. And the USB from that to my computer was ready to go.

I opened Pro Tools and switched on the mic. “Testing one, two, three.”

Sound was good. Right in range. But then again, my body had memorized just how far from the mic I needed to be.

I stared at the screen, licking my suddenly dry lips. My gaze dropped to my notes, the intro I’d written and rewritten countless times as I’d worked at Emerson’s. But now it didn’t seem right.

I turned my head slightly, just enough so I could see a sliver of night sky, the string of lights that centered me. And then I spoke.

“Hi there, podcastlandia. This is Ridley Sawyer, host of Sounds Like Serial . You’re probably wondering why the show looks a little different and why we’re not on the True Crime Channel anymore.”

I traced a strand of stars with my gaze, focusing on them. “The truth is, it was time for me to go out on my own. To follow the path that called to me without the pressure of other voices. But most of all, it’s time for me to tell you why I do what I do.”

The stars went fuzzy as I sucked in a long breath, trying to fill my lungs with all the strength they would need for what was to come. “The night before our college graduation, my twin sister, Avery, disappeared. The only thing left behind was a blood-smeared key chain and signs of a struggle on a wooded path.”

The blur of stars slipped away until all I could see was Avery. Her blue eyes, which were just a bit grayer than mine. The way her nose crinkled when she smiled. How that one lock of hair never quite curled into submission the way she wanted.

“She was an amazing human being. Kind, smart, talented. But more than that, she was loved. By her friends, by our parents, by me. She left a hole in our lives that will never be filled. We will never stop missing her. But maybe we can help her find peace by bringing her killer to justice. And I’d like you to help me do that.”

So I laid it out. Peeled back every agonizing layer until there was nothing left. I gave them everything. And I just prayed that it would be enough.