8

I'm not sure if she's the greatest best friend/sister in the entire fucking world, but Jasmin has yet to say shit about what she witnessed the night Dylan dropped us off. Aside from looking at me as if she was trying to decipher what was going on in my head, nothing. Not a peep. I was glad because what am I supposed to say? I have the hots for a fucking detective, but I'm dating my childhood friend? No. I can't say that out loud.

I haven't seen either men in four days, and honestly, it feels amazing to not have those thoughts lingering over my head and suffocating the air out of my lungs. The guilt has surprisingly subsided, and I won't question why or what the fuck is going on.

I haven't slept, but at least neither Jule nor Jasmin are talking about my perfect boyfriend or the annoying detective. I'm staring at the ceiling right above my half-twin bed, where I taped a photograph of my parents from before we were born. The picture is of horrible quality, but it reminds me of them, nonetheless. Jule and I have my father's milk chocolate brown eyes and my mother's auburn waves. Jule looks so much like my mother, but in the best way. Not like slapping a wig on Jule would make him her twin or anything like that. I have my father's big toothy smile, and the hole in my chest aches to see it in real life versus the picture. Jule smiles with his mouth closed, like my mom.

It's almost ten in the morning, and the smell of coffee, eggs, and bacon fills the trailer. I only slept about six hours, but I'm too anxious to force it.

"I fixed you girls some breakfast, compliments of Noah."

I frown. Noah. The thought of him materializes my guilt, and it sits on my stomach, its steel grip chokes me. "Where is he?"

Jule's mouth is full of scrambled eggs and bacon. Oh, how I love bacon. "Said he would come around later before he went to work." He hands me a foam plate full of eggs, bacon, a slice of toast, and my black coffee.

Jasmin kicks off her shoes and is stuffing her mouth greedily. Her feet look impeccable, although I know she's been strutting her stuff all night in six-inch pumps.

"I'm starving," she attempts to say, her mouth full.

"Noah dropped the meals off about an hour ago and said he would let you rest. I think it was wise of him. You look like hell, Nik."

I roll my eyes and frown at the thought of Noah being incredibly sweet with someone who doesn't deserve it. He knows me well, though, which is why he didn't stick around. What can I say? I cherish my space. But right now, for some inexplicable reason, I want to see him. Maybe it's the guilt. At times, he shares his earnings with us, and why shouldn't he enjoy breakfast with his girlfriend? Because you're a grouch and have repeatedly growled at him to not be around when you're deprived of energy and food, and right now… you're depleted.

My frown deepens at my subconscious, but she's so right.

"Hey, where're you going?" Jasmin's got her face buried in her plate but manages to speak through the mouthful of food again.

I grimace while slipping into my Chucks. "I'm gonna go see Noah. You two eat up." I go to my brother and kiss him gently on his forehead, which he wipes away instantly. "Safe trip to work, Jule. Chin up."

With my plate in hand, I walk to Noah's trailer. It takes me fifteen minutes, but once there, I nibble on some bacon while I knock on his door. His mom works the morning shift, so I freely stand before his door with my hair all puffed up, some of the shortest shorts I own, and a tank top. Fuck, I should've thrown something else on.

He opens the door, and his brows shoot up, his eyes sweep down and back up. I think I wear the same expression. He's wearing his PJ bottoms, and they sit low at his hips. He's shirtless and my mouth goes dry. He recovers quicker than me and smiles wide. I stay locked.

"Good morning, beautiful."

I still can't find my voice. I just stare at him with my plate in one hand and my coffee in the other.

"Want to come in?" He moves to the side and I squeeze in past him.

The need to reciprocate his desire for me washes over me like a cold shower.

He's been gone for about a week, and I watch him as he fixes himself something. I'm not sure if it's coffee, tea, or a glass of water. I'm distracted by my obsessive thoughts–why can't I muster a fraction of the enthusiasm he exhibits for whatever it is we have between us?

Noah is attractive, tall enough that if he were to raise his hands, he wouldn't be able to extend them in the trailer. His elbows would probably touch the low ceiling. His body, all V-shaped and toned, moves with grace about his kitchen. I can actually see the muscles of his back flex as he moves about. He turns, rock-hard and rippled abs a mere foot from my reach, and takes a seat in front of me.

Yes, he's beautiful, but I don't want him. Fuck.

I notice now that he's fixed himself a plate and a cup of coffee. I take a sip from mine and smile. "Is everything alright?" he asks, eyes hooded, and I have to look away.

He's damn sexy… so why can't I reciprocate his feelings? I love him, that's a fact, but just not in the same way he does me. I wish I could change that, perhaps, if I stop focusing on the guilt that consumes me, I'd be able to just hone in on all the good he does.

"I… just… I–" I sigh. Why am I stuttering?

His brows furrow. "What is it, Justice?"

"I wanted to say thank you—for breakfast."

He looks relieved but also caught off guard. But he smiles wide, my favorite smile, and my chest tightens. Yes, perhaps my feelings for him can deepen. And suddenly, I relax, consoled by the idea that I won't hurt him by not countering his feelings toward me.

"Would you like to stay? I was actually going to catch some Zs before work. You can… lay with me… if you'd like." My cheeks burn. "To sleep, Justice. Not to have sex or anything."

His reassurance makes me redden further. A pang of… what? Disappointment? I'm not sure what the hell I'm feeling. But he fills the silence with his worry. "Or you can just join me for breakfast. Whatever you want is fine with me."

The sleep pattern in our group is a fucking mess. I think Jule is the only one that sleeps during the night. I tend to work two, sometimes three jobs, in one day. If I sleep four hours, that's amazing. I tried to lie down when I got home at two in the morning, but just managed to toss and turn while Jule snored. My shift won't start until one today. My shoulders are up to my ears, and I lean back a bit in an attempt to stretch out the tight muscles.

"I want to stay, if that's okay." I don't look at him.

I think I'm nervous because I can't have sex. Or rather, I took a celibacy oath. For months, Jasmin begged me to see a therapist about my promiscuity until I finally relented. According to her, it'd gone too far. I should've never told her I let a random guy at work fuck me on the ground near a pile of scrap metal at the junkyard.

I only agreed because she put her foot down and threatened to tell Helena, the only woman I'd be too embarrassed to admit how far I'd gone to feel something, anything that would hopefully fill some gaping hole inside my chest. The therapist prescribed celibacy for a year. I failed over and over until finally something in me snapped.

Three months in, and I ceded to Noah's pleas to be his girlfriend. But we hadn't had sex, or any other delicious treats.

"Okay. I'm sure you're hungry, though. After we eat, we can sleep, alright?"

I nod, staring at my eggs like an idiot. Noah's hand reaches for mine and he brings it to his lips. "Just let things flow, Justice. There's no pressure here. Just go with your gut."

And his words are like a mantra. He knows me so well. See? This is what I love. It's easier to talk to someone that has an instant hot wire to your thoughts. I'm not much of a talker, and knowing that he understands even though I haven't said a word is a relief. Suddenly, my shoulders relax and I slump down in the chair. Fuck, I didn't even realize I'd been holding in all the tension and finally releasing it feels so good.

"Better?" he asks, his voice soft as he grazes my knuckles against his lips.

"Yea."

"Eat up, Justice. You look like hell."

We eat in silence. Noah reads his paper, sharing with me what the real press has to say about my news blog and comments on what he believes has been clearly omitted. It's nice, peaceful, and it settles me in a way I never thought, to be sharing my morning with him. He takes our empty plates and washes them.

"Ready for bed?"

I love Noah's trailer. It's bigger than ours and actually has rooms. Two rooms, to be exact. His mom keeps it tidy and fresh. Being in his home makes me feel like I'm fifteen again… like when my parents were around. The feeling is welcoming, and it almost seeps into my chest. Almost.

I nod, my lids heavy. And I'm suddenly thankful for the offer to get some sleep.

We're on his bed, and I twist around and nuzzle into his chest, then unexpectedly run my lips over his skin. Noah presses his body against mine and reaches under my shirt. Thoughts of blackened irises flash before my closed lids and I spring back suddenly.

Son of a bitch.Dylan.

I shuffle away from Noah and move to stand.

"Hey, wait. Don't leave, Justice. I'm sorry."

I stand up and turn. I don't understand why Dylan continues to make an appearance in my head. I don't get it. But Noah thinks he's done something wrong, and he moves hastily off the bed and hugs me close, forcing me to wrap my arms around his torso. He lifts my chin and kisses my cheeks.

"I love you, Justice. I want us to have a future together. I want to marry you someday and maybe kids–the whole enchilada. But you don't want all that… yet. I get it, I always have. I'll be as patient as you need me to be."

I can't tell him why I pulled back. It has nothing to do with him. He didn't do anything wrong except the one thing we cannot avoid. He isn't Dylan.

"Come on, let's go to bed." He grabs my hand and then gently coaxes me under the covers.

In an instant, I'm in his arms, my back to his front. I'm suddenly filled with petulant anger. Why the fuck does the rookie get to command my body even when he isn't around? I want to tell it who's boss and force another man into my mind so that the rookie can disappear into nothing.

That being said, I reach for Noah's hand and place it under my top and he caresses my belly gently. My skin tingles and goosebumps cover me. Noah has never touched me like this before, and my body tenses at the intrusion, but I force it to flex and relax. I'm going to force the cop out one way or another.

He opens his palm and pushes me closer to him. His nose is at my neck and he growls. I close my eyes and force myself to melt into his sheets. I have to do this; fuck the celibacy pact that I made for a reason I can't recall.

I can't keep allowing this fucking cop to command jurisdiction over me and govern my every breath. I focus on nothing and enter that empty space in my mind, the one that always waits for me whenever I'd give myself to strangers.

A soft moan escapes my lips as Noah's hand travels up to cup my large breasts. He pinches one nipple and then opens his palm and grips. It barely fits in his hand, and he hisses into my ear. I'm slick and hot between my legs, and I push my ass into his hard dick and wiggle my hips. Not having sex for over six months has me quivering with need like a bitch in heat.

Inked skin coats my inner lids, and I grind my teeth. Time to take it up a notch. I take off my top and press my naked back to his blazing front. He gasps, clearly not expecting this, but recovers by turning me around and in one swift move, he's on top of me.

I keep my eyes shut, afraid that if I open them, reality will stomp out this fire that I lit a match to.

He kneads my breast and bites my neck, and my body involuntarily arches at his touch. His lips are at my jaw and I tremble when my hands glide over his abs and I hook my fingers into his waistband. He groans, the vibrations of his desire firing a need I had locked away.

My lips are at his shoulder, tasting him, and I revel under his rigid yearn for me as he parts my legs with his knee. Suddenly, an ear-shattering pounding at his door rips us apart.

"Who the fuck is that?" Noah hisses.

He's pissed, and I have half a mind to tell him to ignore it, when the person on the other side speaks. "I need a word with Miss Fox. I know she's in there."

Shit, it's Dylan. It's as if the force I projected on shoving him out of my mind caused the universe to summon him.

Noah's eyes go black. "Let the bastard wait in vain."

Dylan pounds on the door again. "I need to talk about your parent's case, Niki. It's important."

He sounds as pissed off as Noah. Fuck! But his words tame the sexual deviant in me. I watch as she slips away to the darkest part of my mind. I squeeze Noah's shoulder, and his eyes lock with mine. He trembles past his fury as he hands me my top and stalks to the door and creaks it open.

"This better be good. Justice isn't too keen on having her sleep interrupted after she's worked all night."

Dylan's voice is like hot metal and dry ice. "I can assure you it is. May I come in?"

"Like hell you can. We'll be right out. Just thought I'd let you know before you pounded my damn door down." And with that, Noah shuts the door in Dylan's face.

I'm sitting on his bed when he returns, all jittery and nervous. "What do you think he's gonna tell me about the case?"

Noah combs his hands roughly through his hair. He does this when he's trying to calm himself… it's very cute. But right now, I'm focused on what Dylan could quite possibly have to say. And not the man I was working out of my thoughts.

"I don't know… Hey, you better put this on." He tosses me his hooded sweatshirt.

I look at him quizzically and his eyes sweep over my chest, my hard nipples visible through the white material. My face flushes as my shoulders hunch. He wants me to cover my goods since I'm commando under my top. I put the sweatshirt on, thankful he doesn't say anything out loud, and head on out.

Noah shadows me, all bare-chested and grouchy. It's actually in the mid-seventies outside, but I didn't have the strength to argue. He holds my hand and leads me around the trailer where the rookie cop is waiting next to his car.

Involuntarily, I wriggle out of Noah's hand. One of the charms on my mother's bracelet digs into my palm and I focus on the sharp pain. He glances down in question but doesn't say anything.

I hold my breath. It's all I can do to hold back my gaze. Dylan's wearing denim jeans and a black t-shirt. I don't think I've allowed myself to truly see him in daylight. Clearly, he works out. His dark eyes bore at me with an unknown emotion. He glares at Noah, and I think his lips twist slightly, but I'm not sure. He straightens his shoulders and peers at his notepad, then shoves it into his back pocket.

"Think I can have a word with you in private, Niki?"

My response is quicker than my thoughts. "No. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to Noah." Beside me, Noah grows ten feet.

Dylan's full lips twist in agitation, and my insides go all nervy, like I'm in third grade and about to get quizzed on shit I've got zero knowledge in. The cocky asshole looks confident, in his element, and all business-like–he's so attractive. But I'm soon reminded of Noah, my boyfriend.

My emotions begin to feel all twisted and murky again. Fuck, why couldn't the beer belly cop named Lloyd come and deliver this news? I seriously need to put my feelings in check. But for now, I decide to pay attention to the rookie that brings out all these unexpected, and quite frankly, unpleasant, feelings in me.

"Fine, have it your way." Dylan shifts his weight, like a panther who's forced to back away from a kill.

It's very unlike his usual demeanor, and he leans against the hood of his car. I bite my lip and start nibbling at the skin. What if Dylan mentions the night he gave Jasmin and me a ride? I suddenly wish I would've mentioned it to Noah beforehand, but who knew this fucking cop would show up again?

He crosses his hands and suddenly appears uncomfortable. "I'm sorry for bringing up your parents when I last came. I looked into the case you mentioned. It's gone cold and kept in a classified, restricted section."

He pauses, his brows furrow, and his mouth is set in a tense line. I get the sudden urge to reach out and smooth my thumb over his lips and instantly slap my inner conscious at the ridiculousness of this persistent and nagging craving for this fucking cop. Can't this inappropriate feeling even try to keep itself locked away for the sake of Noah standing here beside me? Fucking hell!

"That's when I realized I needed to get my hands on it," Dylan's voice drops to a low whisper as if he were talking to himself.

"That doesn't surprise me," Noah suddenly says.

"Does it surprise you, Niki?"

I lower my gaze to the dried dirt road. "No."

"Why not?" He's asking the both of us, but his eyes stay on mine.

Noah crosses his arms over his chest. "I guess you missed the orientation session, then. All cases that lead to Vork go cold and end up never being touched again. Regardless of the mounting evidence."

Dylan cocks his head to the side. "Vork?"

Years of calculated undercover work and training, the time I have committed to my blog and reports, pour out of me in an involuntary throng. "Vork, street name for Kennedy Miller: the thug that comes second in command, a henchman, leads an impressive number of corrupt men in the surrounding counties. He owns the fucking streets… all crimes committed begin and end with him, I assure you."

Dylan's big dark eyes lock with mine and they soften, peeling back a sliver of his composure, but all too suddenly, it snaps back, the smooth and cool look of control and professionalism on full blast again.

"There's a lot I'm not aware of… I apologize. It's going to be handled very differently from now on. The point of my visit, however, relates to the increasing amount of data that's been entered into the file… nothing's been sent to the lab yet."

"What kind of evidence?" I step forward. I'm practically two feet away from Dylan.

He stands, startled by my approach, but regards me thoughtfully. "Data, not evidence."

"What the fuck is the difference between the two?"

I hear, rather than feel, as Noah puts his hands on my shoulders tenderly, in a gesture to calm my coiling nerves. Without thinking, I shake him off. I don't want to calm down.

"Many, in fact. The data hasn't been looked through, no one's been questioned, and it hasn't been screened. Like I said, nothing's been sent to the lab. Evidence, however, would be concrete, a confirmation. None of the data on your parent's murder has been confirmed. Nonetheless, the information verifies that something isn't right." He strokes the five o'clock shadowy stubble with the back of his hand and scans the dry grass suddenly. His eyes dart back to mine, and I let out a sigh, realizing that I'd been holding my breath, watching his every move. "I'm taking the case."

"Why?"

"It's obvious something is wrong, Niki. Now that I'm aware of this, I can't just stand back like every other damn detective. I'm not the type that can be bought."

His voice is low, threatening. It chills me to know this man has a gun permit.

"Well, I appreciate it, I guess."

"You'll let your brother know for me? He'd already left for work when I stopped by your house."

Which means Jasmin sent him to Noah's trailer. What the fuck.

"Of course. He'll be… pleased."

"I know it isn't much, especially since the case will remain sealed, but it may offer some closure."

I look away then, to the blinding light of the deep blue sky and white puffy clouds. "Not sure that's possible, Detective. You see, I witnessed the murder of my parents. I know exactly who took them from me." I turn and meet his unwavering gaze. "The fucker responsible is protected by your force."

Dylan inhales sharply, as if it's the first time he's heard this information. "The file says there were witnesses. It even says they were killed in front of one of their kids… I thought it'd been Julius."

"No, Jule was…" I don't want to get into this. It's early, but a couple of my nosy neighbors are beginning to sprout. Noah is trusted blindly, but I still feel wary about talking to a cop where people can see. I shake my head and Noah turns me around and holds me against his rock-hard chest. I let him hold me.

"If you're finished now, we'd like to go to sleep. We both work long hours and my Justice here worked the entire night—"

"Right." Dylan's eyes stay on Noah. "You have my card, Niki. Call me anytime and I'll update you with any new information."

"Update me with any and all information, Detective."

His black eyes finally land on mine. "Dylan. You can drop the title."

I nod, my mouth all dry as if I just swallowed a handful of cotton balls. I want to say goodnight, but I know it's more like good morning to him, and my face turns red to think of what Dylan may conjure–Noah and I are going to bed together.

"What's wrong?" We're back in Noah's trailer, and as soon as the door is closed, his stance changes. He's no longer holding me and he seems upset for some reason.

"He calls you Niki."

I shrug. "It's my first name."

"It's a nickname," he snaps. "Besides, you don't let anyone call you by your first name. Only your parents and Jule. You practically tore my head off the one time I uttered it."

I realize just then that he's right. But hearing Dylan's voice speak my name sincerely didn't affect me. Usually, my skin crawls. It irks me even when coming from my brother Jule, but I've learned to tolerate it over the years. It wouldn't have been correct to yell at him for it. After all, he too lost his parents.

My dad loved my first name. Victor of the people, a champion, mija. That's what you are. A heroine.

I squeeze my eyes to the point of pain. "I'm sorry, Noah. I hadn't even realized…"

I understand just then how dangerous it is that Noah and I have known each other since we were kids, that he knows me better than most people. I mentally kick myself. He doesn't deserve a half-assed attempt.

I take a deep breath to steady my next words. "I was desperate to know what he had to tell me. All I could focus on was my parents—"

Noah's arms embrace me suddenly. "You're right. It's stupid of me to bring up my jealousy now."

"You're… jealous?"

Noah eyes me. "He's conjured his own little nickname for you. Of course, I'm fucking jealous."

I sigh a frustrating breath. I don't want to deal with a jealous bout. Noah is the first boyfriend I've had, and perhaps this is how they all act, but I irk at the idea of having him prey over me with ownership and contemptuousness. I am not his.

"I'm gonna go home now."

"Yea, you have to go to work in exactly seven hours. I guess I'll see you."

My head drops as he leads me out. He leans into me, to kiss me maybe, but I turn and exit his temperature-controlled trailer and head back home alone. So much for coming over and smoothing things out.

I focus my thoughts on what the night will bring instead of Noah. He's leaving on a work trip and I won't see him for almost three weeks. But I can't be near him right now.