Chapter 11

Newt

"I don't wantto do this," I whined into my phone.

"I know." Frankie's voice consoled me from the other end of the line. "But you promised to meet your sister for lunch a month ago, and you know how she gets when you cancel plans with her at the last minute. Just go, smile and nod for an hour or two, then you can get back to your injured boyfriend."

It was an average Saturday afternoon in Baton Rouge, which meant the sidewalks weren't too crowded even on a day with perfect weather. I walked along the road, paying more attention to my phone than my feet.

"He's not my boyfriend. We haven't had that conversation yet."

Frankie scoffed so audibly I could hear it over the line. "Please. For weeks now, you've spent every moment you aren't working at his apartment playing nursemaid. You're definitely boyfriends at this point."

I couldn't even argue. Everything he said was true. For the last three weeks, I'd practically lived with Sebastian. The cast on his leg made mobility difficult, and his brother was busy trying to find whoever ran him off the road. He needed someone around, and I was happy to fill that role.

Whether or not that made us an official couple, however, was still up for debate, but I didn't feel like tackling that argument.

"Actually, Frankie, I could use some advice. What are some safe exercises Bastian could do to stay active? I can tell he's getting stir crazy, and there's only so much I can do to keep him occupied."

"What? The sex getting boring already?"

Blood rushed to my face as I remembered everything Sebastian and I had gotten up to over the last few weeks. We'd explored every kind of position that kept Sebastian's leg supported, but there was one thing we hadn't done yet.

"Shut up. Don't remind me. We haven't even gone all the way yet. I've had more sex in the last few weeks than in my entire life, but I'm still so horny."

I shouted a little too loud and several people on the sidewalk looked at me with judging eyes. Keeping my gaze on my feet, I walked faster.

Frankie's laughter trickled out of the phone directly into my ear. "Really. After all this time, he still hasn't fucked you yet?"

"With his injuries, we can't do anything too stressful. I'm just glad he likes giving blowjobs as much as receiving them, so I don't have to do all the work."

The restaurant where I agreed to have lunch with my sister loomed up ahead, but I hung back and pretended to look at a window display. There were still ten minutes before I needed to meet her and I refused to be early.

On the other side of the phone, I heard the ding of our microwave as Frankie made himself lunch.

"A generous lover. I'm jealous. The last guy I slept with expected me to just let him stick it in without any foreplay. He was hot too. I've never been so disappointed."

I rolled my eyes, having heard this story a dozen times before. "And that's why we both agreed not to sleep with someone on the first date anymore. It never works out well."

"You can't talk. You and Bastian have only had one official date, and that one barely counts, yet you're already acting like you're on your honeymoon."

Although he couldn't see me, I stuck my tongue out at him. Unfortunately, I forgot I was standing in front of a window display, so it looked like I'd made the rude face at a woman inside the shop.

Our gazes locked through the glass, and she scowled. I tried to mouth an apology to her, but it must not have translated because she got even more visibly upset. Giving up, I scurried away from the shop before the woman decided to confront me.

"Anyway, I didn't call just to gossip about my sex life. I really need some suggestions for Bastian. I caught him trying to work out the other day. He nearly dropped a dumbbell on his foot."

Not to mention the multiple times he'd tried returning to work. I'd already had to stop him from leaving the apartment when he decided to try continuing the search for Clay Dahler. Sure, a missing person case may be safer than hunting down a pedophile ring. However, until we knew for sure who tried to kill him—running him off the road had not just been a warning, it was an attempt on his life—he needed to stay inside where people couldn't get to him.

I sighed, remembering the argument the brothers had gotten into when Sebastian was caught trying to break into Damien's computer. It had been an ugly sight. The pair didn't argue often, but when they did, they held nothing back.

"Bastian really shouldn't be getting worked up right now. I need to give him something safe to do, but I don't know what would be best. I treat injuries. I don't usually handle the recovery process. That's your area of expertise."

Frankie hummed as he thought for a moment, and I could hear him munching on whatever he'd chosen for lunch.

"It's hard to say without seeing him myself. Would it be possible for me to come over and evaluate him? I could give you some better suggestions then."

I'd reached the restaurant and it was almost time to meet my sister. There were no more excuses I could use to delay the inevitable.

"I'll ask, but I don't see why you couldn't come over. I've got to go now, but I'll give you a call later."

"Sure. Have fun and try not to give your sister anything to complain about. You'll only make it worse for yourself."

I hung up and stored my phone in my pocket. Then, with a deep breath, I opened the door to the restaurant.

Holy Trinity Bistro claimed to be an authentic Creole restaurant. It certainly had the vibe down, presenting a mix of homey yet elegant. The name was a reference to the three staple ingredients in Creole cooking, onion, celery, and green bell pepper. I was convinced that the name had been chosen to hide the fact that the chefs didn't actually know what they were doing. Half of the items on the menu weren't even Creole recipes, and the items that were authentic were comically stereotypical. It was like someone had looked up a list of recipes off the Internet and decided to just give it a try.

However, it was one of my sister's favorite restaurants, so that's where we ended up going whenever we got lunch together.

I wouldn't mind our occasional lunches if it wasn't for what came with them.

"Hey, midget. How you doing?"

A man waved at me from where he had an arm slung over my sister's shoulder.

Dean Barrett was my sister's fiancé. They'd been dating for nearly ten years, so I'd known him for a significant amount of my life. Yet, even after all that time, I still didn't really like him.

"Hey, Dean," I said, giving him the simplest greeting I could get away with.

He reached out for me, and I braced myself as he ruffled my hair hard enough to rock my head back and forth.

"Man, this is getting long. You need to get a haircut soon or people are going to start mistaking you for a girl."

I ran a hand over my hair, trying to smooth it back into place. "Uh, I'll keep that in mind."

A more blatant lie had never left my lips. I absolutely would not even think about cutting my hair. After finding out how much Sebastian liked its length, especially during sex since it gave him something to hold onto, I was never cutting my hair again.

Well, maybe if it got too long. An image of myself as Rapunzel popped into my mind. If my hair ever got that long, then I would cut it, but it would never be short enough for Dean's preference.

I eyed his neatly trimmed crew cut.

No, never that short.

My attention was diverted when my sister pulled me into a hug. "Newton. I'm glad you came."

After so many years, I'd given up trying to get her to stop using my full name. Instead, I kept the complaint to myself and hugged her back. "Hi, Rosalind. Of course I came. I promised, after all."

Rosalind was taller than me by several inches, so when she pulled back, she had to look down to meet my eyes.

"It's been too long since we last spoke. Tell me what's been going on with you?" Dean tapped her on the shoulder, and they held a silent conversation with their eyes before she seemed to remember something. "Oh, right. Newton, there's someone I want you to meet. This is Steven, Dean's cousin. He'll be joining us today."

They directed my attention to a younger man standing just behind them that I hadn't even noticed at first. He had a slightly mousy look, with a mop of brown hair that fell over his forehead, and thick glasses perched on his nose.

"Hi," he said, looking somewhere just over my shoulder rather than meeting my eye.

"Um, hi." I reached out to shake his hand, but he didn't take it, so I was left standing awkwardly with my hand in the air.

"Steven just moved to Baton Rouge," Rosalind said when it became clear that Steven and I needed someone to rescue the conversation. "Since he's new here, he doesn't know many people in the city, so I thought it would be a good idea to invite him along."

"All right," I said, not knowing how else to respond. It was unusual. They didn't usually invite other people on these little lunch dates, but if Steven was Dean's cousin that technically made him family.

A waiter showed us to our table, where Rosalind and Dean ended up sitting on one side while Steven and I sat on the other. At least this time we'd managed to get a table by the window, so I had something to look at. The restaurant had a great view of a nearby river. Sunlight glinted off the water as people sailed by in small boats just below us.

After the waiter took our drink orders, Rosalind turned her full attention on me. "So, Newton, what have you been up to?"

There were plenty of things I could tell her about. The burned John Doe that we still hadn't identified, everything with Sebastian, or even just an interesting call I'd gone out on the other day with Firehouse Twenty-One where I helped rescue a kid from a tree that was simultaneously on fire. We still hadn't figured out how the tree ended up on fire at the same time the kid was stuck in it, though we suspected fireworks had been involved.

However, I'd attended enough of these lunches with my sister to know the script.

"Oh, nothing much. Work keeps me pretty busy."

"I know exactly what you mean," Rosalind agreed. "Between wedding planning and this new case my firm has taken on, I feel run ragged most days."

As usual, most of the conversation became a rant about my sister's work, punctuated by bits of info about the upcoming wedding. Rosalind was a lawyer at a fairly successful firm, and she never missed an opportunity to bring it up. I couldn't be too mad. She'd worked hard for her career and should be proud. However, I did get tired of listening to the same topics over and over again.

Not to mention the little passive aggressive comments that inevitably slipped into the conversation.

"All those years of law school were hard, but I'm so glad I stuck with it. Have you considered going back to school, Newton? You really would make a great doctor."

"We're looking into buying a house, so we'll be ready to start a family once we're married. Are you still sharing an apartment with that roommate of yours? What's his name? Frank?"

"It's so strange. Wedding planning has been a nightmare, but also rewarding at the same time. I suppose that doesn't make sense to you now, but you'll understand when you're planning your own wedding."

Each little comment, said in a way that made it hard to argue, felt like a needle wedging under my ribs. My life didn't align with what my sister envisioned for me. She meant well, but she had a very narrow view of what was "best". To her, anything less than a high paying job, white picket fence, kids, and an arm-candy husband was a wasted life.

Well, that was an unfair description of Dean. I may not like the guy, but he was at least successful in his own way. He was an aspiring actor and had landed a few parts in several successful films. They were generic action movies, most of which I had never seen, but they did pay well. He'd have no problem keeping up with my sister's financial goals for their future.

My sister had been talking for several minutes, and the waiter had already come by to take our orders, when Steven suddenly turned to me.

"So, Newton. You work at a hospital, right?"

He'd been so quiet up until now, I'd almost forgotten about him and wasn't ready for the unexpected question. It was a generic conversation topic, but at least it was better than listening to my sister's passive aggressive judgment of my life.

"Yeah, I'm a nurse, and I'm also a paramedic." I flashed him a fake half-smile, trying to appear like I was interested in a conversation with him.

His hand shook slightly as he pushed his glasses back into place on his nose. "Oh, wow. Two jobs. That must be tough."

I thought over everything my jobs had brought me recently, both the good and the bad. "Yeah, but it's worth it. What about you?"

He opened his mouth as if about to speak, but immediately closed it again. After several moments, he mumbled something so quietly I had no idea what he said.

Rosalind interjected herself into the conversation and answered for him. "Steven just got a job at that cafe you like, Newton. You know, the one with all the weird decorations."

She could only be talking about one place. Despite her unflattering description, a smile lit my face. "Oh, you work at Cool Beans. I love it there."

The cafe held a special spot in my heart, especially since it had hosted my first and only date with Sebastian.

How could I not smile when thinking about it?

Steven's fingers nervously twisted the straw of his drink into knots, but he managed a small smile of his own. "Do you go there a lot?"

"Yeah. It's right down the street from the hospital, so I go there all the time. It's great."

"I like it too. The owner lets me read the comic books on my breaks. He even showed me some golden age Justice League comics."

With that, we'd finally managed to find a topic of conversation we could both enjoy. Steven was a diehard DC fan, while I'd always enjoyed both DC and Marvel equally. It wasn't like the two were exclusive, and I saw no reason to limit my choices. However, it was fun to take the stance of arguing for Marvel over DC just for the sake of debate. Especially, since Steven didn't get mad whenever I disagreed with him, like some fans would.

Rosalind and Dean seemed happy to let us talk and occupied themselves with their own wedding discussions. The debate of Marvel versus DC led into a conversation about which comic book movies we thought were the most successful in adapting their source material. We could easily agree on which ones had failed, but differed when it came to our opinions on success. He argued that it was only a success if the movie stuck to the original storyline, whereas I was less concerned with plot so long as the movie captured the heart of the characters.

This conversation lasted us most of the way through lunch. I was glad to see that Steven wasn't as standoffish as he first seemed. Once he got over his initial shyness, he was actually pleasant company.

I had just finished the last bite of my crab cakes when Steven's tone suddenly changed.

"Hey, Newton. I wanted to apologize if I was awkward earlier. I'm not very good at this, so thanks for understanding."

My mouth was still full, making me resemble my chipmunk nickname more than usual. I used the excuse of swallowing and taking a sip of water to buy myself time. Something about his choice of words struck me as odd.

"Not good at what? Lunch?" I laughed, hoping to play it off as a joke.

Yet, Steven's serious tone remained.

"No, I'm not good at dating. I always get so nervous on first dates that I end up making a fool of myself, or just not saying anything at all. But this one has gone much better than usual."

My brain stalled, and for a moment I heard nothing but the sound of an old dialup Internet connection.

"I'm sorry. What did you say? Date?"

I didn't give him time to answer, instead directing my demands at my sister. "Rosalind. Is this a setup for a date?"

My blood boiled, and my pleasant meal sat like ash in my stomach.

Yet, Rosalind just waved her hand like my anger could be simply brushed aside. "Oh, come on, Newton. You need to get out there and start dating. You'll be much happier with a partner in your life. I'm just helping you out."

My teeth grated against each other, and I gripped my fork hard enough to leave an impression of the handle against my palm. "You should have asked me first. I'm already seeing someone. If my boyfriend finds out I went on a date with someone else, who knows what he'll think."

Earlier, I'd questioned if Sebastian and I even counted as boyfriends, but now the word slipped easily from my mouth.

I couldn't even look at Steven. There was probably a lot of hurt and confusion on his face that I couldn't bear to see. He was a decent man who didn't deserve the situation my sister had put him in.

Rosalind, on the other hand, didn't even look ashamed. In fact, she only got more excited.

"Oh, Newton. You're seeing someone? Why didn't you tell me?"

If this were a cartoon, steam would have been spewing out of my ears like a pair of tea kettles. "Because you aren't entitled to front row tickets to my private life. And after this little stunt, I don't think I'm going to tell you anything ever again."

"Hold on," Dean interrupted my tirade. "Are you really dating someone? You've never managed to get past a first date for as long as I've known you, and now suddenly, you have a boyfriend? Who is this person?"

I didn't usually curse, but this situation called for it. There was no choice. I had to either tell them about Sebastian or look like a liar.

Still glaring at my sister and Dean, I pulled out my phone. I'd taken several pictures of Sebastian over the last few weeks, but most of them were from after he'd been injured. He would never want those images to be someone's first impression of him. There was only one picture on my phone from before the car crash, which I had taken during our date at the coffee shop.

This was the picture I handed over to them. "His name is Bastian. I met him at the hospital when he came to check in on a patient."

My sister's eyes grew large when she looked at my screen, and Dean even let out a little "Woah."

At first I thought they were impressed with the sight of Sebastian. It was an understandable reaction. He was an impressive man.

However, I turned out to be wrong when Dean started laughing.

"Seriously? You're trying to claim that you're dating this guy? Newton, man, if you're going to lie at least make it believable."

My sister didn't laugh. Instead, she shook her head in disappointment. "Newton, you shouldn't take pictures of people without their consent. You need to get rid of this."

Her finger swiped across the screen, opening the tab to delete the photo.

I grabbed the phone from her before she could hit the "yes" option.

"I'm not lying, and don't mess with my phone."

The pitiful looks they gave me made my skin crawl, and I already knew there was no point arguing with them. Nothing I said would convince them that I was telling the truth.

Part of the problem was the picture itself. I'd snapped it covertly while we were at the coffee shop so that I could have an image to remember him by just in case the date didn't go well. That meant I wasn't in the photo with him, and he wasn't even looking at the screen. It really did look like I'd just taken a picture of some random stranger.

It was no wonder they didn't believe I was dating Sebastian. Sometimes, I couldn't even believe it myself.

"Whatever," I said as I shoved my phone back in my pocket. "I don't owe you an explanation. Believe what you want. I'm done." I was about to storm out when I noticed the crushed look on Steven's face. "Hey, um, I'm sorry about this. You're a great guy, and you didn't deserve this. I hope your next date goes better."

I tried to leave with my dignity intact, but my sister ran after me.

"Newton. Wait."

I kept walking, all the way out the door and onto the sidewalk. Her footsteps echoed behind me, so I headed for the crosswalk to try and put distance between us.

Two steps off the curb, she caught my arm. "Newton. Wait. Talk to me."

I slapped her hand away, hard enough for the sound of skin striking skin to echo off the cars waiting at the light.

"What's there to talk about? How you manipulated me? How you lied to me? God, I have never been so mortified in my life as I am right now."

She reached out like she would grab me again but changed her mind. "You're right. I should have asked you first, but every time I've suggested people for you to date in the past you've always turned me down. You and Steven have a lot in common, and I think you'd do well together."

"Except for the fact that I'm already seeing someone. That would probably throw a monkey wrench in the relationship."

The pity was back in her eyes. She still thought I was lying.

"Newton—"

I cut her off.

"No. Don't even start. You've got all these plans for what you think my life should be, but how can you know what's best for me when you can't even get my name right. It's Newt. Not Newton. I hate my full name. You know that, yet you insist on using it anyway."

Now she looked angry. In that moment, I knew how the opposing lawyers must feel when they had to face her across a courtroom.

"Newt is a child's name. You're an adult. You need to act like it. Now stop this tantrum and come back inside the restaurant so we discuss this like adults."

I turned and kept walking toward the other side of the street. "I'm not discussing anything with people who think I'm a liar."

"Newton." Her voice was more distressed than before.

"Leave me alone," I shouted over my shoulder.

"Newt."

The sound of my preferred name made me pause.

If I'd kept walking, I would have died right there on that street.

Rosalind grabbed me by the shirt and yanked me backward. We both went tumbling over the pavement, right before a car barreled past. Its front fender missed me by inches. It didn't even try to stop or slow down. At the next intersection, it swerved around the corner so quickly that its wheels let out a painful squeal. Then it completed the turn and disappeared from sight.

I stared down the road in shock, even after the car was long gone.

Rosalind's hands ran over me, searching for injuries. "Oh my god. Newton. Are you okay? That guy must have been drunk or something. He just ran right through the red light."

The more frantic she became, the more my thoughts calmed.

A picture started to form in my mind.

"Hey, Rosalind? What color was that car?"

"Why does that matter?" She pulled me to my feet. "Come on. Let's get out of the road."

I let her lead me but persisted with my question. "Just answer. What color was it?"

"Um, black." She checked me over again. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Did you see who was driving?"

She grabbed my face and stared directly into my eyes. "You're acting weird. Did you hit your head? Maybe we should call someone."

My calm facade cracked, and I snapped at her. "Just answer the question."

Something in my expression must have startled her because she actually listened to me.

"No, I didn't see the driver. The windows were blacked out. If I had seen them, I'd be reporting them right now."

Right after Sebastian was attacked, Damien had managed to get a hold of the video from his dashcam. It didn't show much, since the camera pointed forward, and the cars that drove him off the road stayed mostly to the sides and behind. However, it had gotten one clear picture of the attackers' cars driving away right before Sebastian went over the edge of the bridge.

I'd been there when Sebastian and Damien reviewed the footage, and clearly remembered the long scrape on the side of one of the cars. When it slammed into Sebastian's car, black paint had been scraped away revealing the metal underneath. The twisted silver streak stretched all the way from the passenger door to the rear taillight and stood out starkly on the black backdrop.

The car that almost hit me a moment ago had the exact same scrape down its side.

"I need to go."

Rosalind called my name, but I ignored her as I started running down the road in the direction of Sebastian's apartment.

Maybe I was being paranoid, but it seemed like one of the cars that ran Sebastian off the road had just tried to kill me as well.