Chapter Three: Home

Chapter Three

Nikki

HOME

Performed by Foo Fighters

Nikki rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on. It would be impossible to get through tonight with a film crew watching her if it kicked in as fiercely as the headaches sometimes did. She scrambled to her bag and pulled out her medicine.

She turned back to see Adria and Fiadh watching her with concern.

Their normally tight-knit group seemed to be full of drama these days. Once upon a time, they'd lived almost hip-to-hip, sharing rooms while touring with Watery Reflection, and even though they'd each had their own rooms on The Red Guitar tour, they'd still lived like sisters…Sisters she'd never had. The tension made her stomach clench and her chest tighten.

After downing her medicine, she turned to her friends and said, "I think Adria's right. We should reschedule the filming."

"You have a migraine?" Fee asked.

Nikki pushed against her temples again. "It might not develop into a full-blown one. I might have caught it early enough, but with Leya heading out and things being tense with Landry and Paisley, it seems better to postpone."

"I don't think the Hollywood Player Prince will agree.He's too used to getting his way," Adria said dryly.

Ronan Hawks was the documentary's creator and director. He'd made a name for himself filming edgy, dark music videos, including a couple for their Red Guitar album that had won awards. He was the epitome of a Hollywood narcissist and wouldn't be happy to have his budget or his schedule screwed up because of anything as ridiculous as a headache or family drama.

Nikki's phone buzzed, and she looked down to see Professor Maynard's name and number appear over the daisies on her lock screen. She forgot she'd agreed to meet with him this afternoon. He'd been so determined and so persistent ever since she'd arrived in Grand Orchard, and if she was truthful with herself, he'd dropped tantalizing hints that had been hard to ignore.

She could put him off. She should. In all likelihood, whatever he had to say would only increase the chances of her headache developing into a full-on throbbing monster refusing to be tamed. But she'd already postponed twice, each time doubting herself. Each time not wanting to know if her parents had kept things hidden from her all her life. Not little secrets either―life-altering ones.

The only good thing about the start of her headache was she could use it as an excuse to leave.

"I'm going to go get a coffee. Anyone want anything?" Nikki asked the others.

"No. Go take care of your headache before it turns into a beast. We'll call Ronan," Fiadh said, and Adria groaned, her distaste of the filmmaker clear. Fiadh smiled at her. "Safety in numbers, my friend."

Nikki left with her bodyguard in tow. She made her way past the charming old storefronts of downtown to the ivy-covered buildings that made up Wilson-Jacobs College. She'd been on campus only twice before, but she'd looked up Maynard's office on a site map that morning, so she knew the direction to head.

The university wasn't nearly as busy as it would be when the fall semester kicked in, but there were still students and faculty wandering the halls. When she reached the floor with Maynard's office, she turned to her bodyguard, Andy.

"I'd like you to wait here," she told him. She didn't want anyone listening to what the professor had to say because she wasn't sure she believed it.

Andy frowned, unhappy with this development, but didn't challenge her. Maybe it was because he knew, out of any of the Daisies, she was the one who'd had the most training in protecting herself. A lifetime of it at the hands of some of the best teachers. Not only her dad but his Green Beret friend and a host of martial arts instructors. Andy waited for her near the top of the stairs while she continued down several doors to Maynard's office.

She knocked and entered, only to freeze.

The office was a disaster―books had been tossed from the shelves, and the file cabinets were open with their contents spread along the floor. The two chairs in front of Maynard's large walnut desk had their cushions sliced open, while everything on the desktop had been thrown to the floor.

Professor Maynard was standing amidst the mess, laptop clutched to his chest and his trendy, black-framed glasses slipping down his nose. Anger and fear were etched over his face as his eyes found her in the doorway.

"Close the door!" he demanded.

She hesitated, but then did so, trying to find a spot to stand where she wouldn't be on top of his strewn belongings.

"Wh-what happened?" Nikki asked.

He looked at her with dark eyes that seemed to see through her and made a chill run up her spine. "You. You happened."

Nikki's mouth dropped open as fear curled through her.

"What are you talking about?"

The last time she'd met him, she'd thought he had a nice smile, which only added to his Indiana Jones appeal that she was sure made him popular with his students. Now, his glare made him look unhinged.

"They must know I'm close to the truth. They want what I found in L.A."

"Who's they?" Nikki asked, stomach clenching as the obvious truth finally hit her. His office had been ransacked by someone searching for something.

The office door crashed open, and Nikki jumped as another man burst into the room. He looked like the professor in many ways, but taller, lankier, rougher. As if he was accustomed to getting into bar fights. He even had a scar on his jaw that proved her thoughts. Dark, beady eyes took in the entire room before he stalked further into it and righted a chair that had been knocked over.

"What the hell?" the new man demanded.

"I must have tipped them off when I asked for the report on the shooting at the gas station," he told the other man, almost forgetting Nikki was there.

Her heart stopped and started. Was he talking about the gas station where her dad was killed? A wave of pain flew through her. It had been years since she'd lost him, but it sliced through her almost as if she was hearing about it for the first time.

The pounding in her head quadrupled.

"I told you, we needed to drop this entire stupid notion," the man with the scar growled. "Nothing good will come of it now. Nothing but death and destruction."

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake," Nikki said quietly, easing her way back toward the door and opening it.

The professor moved so fast it surprised her, slamming the door shut and grabbing her arm. At first, she recoiled, wishing she hadn't left her bodyguard, but then her training came back and with a swift movement, she'd batted his arm away and prepared for retaliation.

He jerked his hand back to his chest, pushing his glasses up and stepping away. "I'm sorry. It's just… It's important. Please. I have proof. I can show it to you."

She looked around the destroyed office.

"What proof?" the other man asked, face scrunching into a scowl.

"It's not here. I wouldn't be stupid enough to just leave it laying around," the professor insisted, and the other man's eyes squinted at the desperation in Maynard's voice.

Every alarm bell in Nikki's body was telling her to get the hell out of there.

"I…I think it's best if we just drop this," she said quietly, hand slowly moving toward the doorknob again.

"Please," the professor begged again. "Give me one more chance. We're so close to the truth. Closer than anyone has been in decades. My brother and I…we need this."

The two men exchanged a strange look that only increased the turmoil inside her. Nikki wanted to tell him to go to hell. She wanted to leave and never think about any of this again. But the little things Professor Maynard had told her about her family had all rung true in a way that seemed both impossible and probable at the same time.

If she had him come to the farmhouse tonight, there would be a host of bodyguards and her friends around. She'd be safe. She'd have to tell the band something or just let them assume she had thing for the attractive college professor.

"Tonight. At the farmhouse with everyone there. Any time after seven," she said before stepping through the door. "But only you, Professor. If you both show up, I won't be able to explain it."

"Thank you! You won't regret it," Professor Maynard called after her, relief coasting over his face, but his brother looked wary and thoughtful.

Nikki already regretted it. Regretted ever letting him close. Her stomach was in turmoil, and her head was now throbbing mercilessly, causing white lights to flicker through her vision. She needed to climb into bed, shut all the blinds, and sleep until it disappeared, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

She slipped out the door before either of the men could stop her again, found her way to her bodyguard, back through the college, and out to one of the SUVs that were waiting for the band outside the studio all the while doubts, fear, and pain trailed her.

As she went to get in the vehicle, her skin prickled, and she glanced up to see a man leaning up against the white pillar of the bakery across the street. His arms were crossed, showcasing forearms that were huge and bulging like the rest of him—black hair, hooded eyes, muscles, and tattoos that screamed of some ancient-Egyptian, godlike lineage. He was beautiful. She'd seen him that morning as well when they'd arrived at the studio. It should have frightened her. It should have been something she mentioned to the others, especially with the creepy notes arriving daily, but she hadn't. There was something almost mythical about him, as if she'd blink and he'd disappear.

As they started to drive away, she turned back and the man was gone, just like she'd expected. A mirage. A figment of her imagination.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on the seat back. The pain gripping her pushed everything else out of her mind. The fear. The doubts. Nothing remained but the knowledge that if she didn't lose herself to sleep, she'd never shake the agony swallowing her.

When she got to the early-twentieth-century mansion the locals called "The Farmhouse," the sun had started to fall below the mountains, casting the orchards around it into shadows. The house itself was silent with Landry out running and the others still in town. Silence was what she needed.

Nikki rushed up the stairs and down the hall to the sunny bedroom she'd claimed at the front of the house. Tonight, she needed darkness, so she drew the blinds and curtains, turning the room pitch black. She fumbled her way to the bed, stripping as she went, and slid into the cool sheets before resting her fevered brow on the pillowcase and letting herself drift away.