Page 41 of H E R

I turn on my heel and flip my hair for emphasis when his hand reaches out to pull me toward him. His grip is strong yet gentle. Suddenly, Max stands and lets out a low growl. The beastly hound moves to stand next to me and glares at his master.

Dylan looks down and smirks. “Easy, Max. I’m not going to hurt her.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks at me, and I’m suddenly centered in place. My belly flips and tightens and my thighs press together firmly. “I’d never,” he murmurs.

He grazes my cheek roughly, and it’s as if he’s dropped an ice cube down my back. It slides down my spine and sinks between my legs, melting me in its wake. A puddle with his name on it gathers at my center.

“I know exactly where you were, but we can talk about that another time.”

He what?

“I just thought you should know that the two men who killed your parents are dead.” Dylan lets go of my arm and I instantly feel the void of his hold.

I feel like I’m falling and all the air has left my lungs. But I can’t take a breath in. It’s as if I’ve been shoved under water by an unforgiving wave that continues to collide with my body. It smacks me back and forth, pushing me further down into the depths where only shards of rock await me.

I barely recognize that my body is floating and pressed against a solid heat that cradles me. The absence of air consumes me. The vacantness roars in my ears. It blurs my vision and holds me hostage. It’s as if the Pacific claimed the land and a wave truly did materialize to fill my lungs with its saltiness.

“Niki?” Dylan coaxes. “Steady. Breathe slowly in and out.”

I hold on to the gentle yet stern command in his tone. “They’re dead?” I finally manage. It feels like mushy and salty cotton fills my throat.

“They are.”

I notice I’m no longer outside but inside Dylan’s trailer. Or rather, his mansion. It puts all other trailers to shame. It’s enormous and modern. Black and gray furnishings, darkoak tables, and sleek leather. It’s unlit except for a dim lamp on an end table. I’m leaning on his loveseat, and he’s bent down on one knee, hovering over me.

I was fourteen when three men barged into our home. Vork gave the order and then walked out. One of the men assaulted my father, beating him while the other took advantage of my mom. They tied my father up so he could watch and then they shot my mom. Two bullets, two men. Then one of them shot my father’s kneecaps and then they shot him in the head. Four bullets, two men. Their faces were a blur, but I never forgot their voices. The memory of Vork delivering the instructions, in his cold and distant manner, lives in my head rent free. They never saw me, but I saw everything.

“How are you certain it was them? The officer at the time said they didn’t leave evidence behind and that there would be no way to find them.”

Dylan nods knowingly. “It was them.”

I’m not sure why I want to know, but before I can scrounge for an answer, I blurt out, “How?”

Dylan swallows and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch singes my trembling nerves, taming them. It stabilizes the hurricane in me. “One of the men was shot twice in the head, the other had both kneecaps blown off, as well as two bullets to his head.”

The same way my parents were taken. “Do they know who did it?”

He clears his throat. “It’s an ongoing investigation.”

For years, I dreamed of their deaths, witnessing or delivering them. I wanted to walk about knowing they were no longer breathing, no longer enjoying the same sky that hung above us. And now they were dead. Killed.

I don’t pity them. I’m not sure if that makes me as horrible a person as them, but I don’t give a fuck. In fact, I hope they suffered, gasped and sputtered for their lives in vain.

Dylan’s cell buzzes next to us and I notice the time.

“I have to get ready for work.”

“Nym-Phoagain?”

I bristle at his questioning. “What’s it to you?”

He chuckles dryly and shakes his head. “I’m not interrogating you, Niki. Just… be careful.”

I stand and move to the door. Ignoring the magnetism between us. “I can take care of myself, rookie.”

I leave before he can say anything else. I don’t have the energy for him right now. My body’s reaction to his is cataclysmic, and it shocks my nerves, vibrating through me. His voice is the symphony that tames my thoughts, his body stabilizes mine into a blissful calm that allows me to feel complete. It’s unnerving. I don’t know who the fuck he is. And in less than a month, he makes me feel what Noah never could.

But I can’t want him. I shouldn’t. I ignore my neighbors’ skeptical eyes, watching me leave the cop’s trailer, and sulk home.

“What did he want?” Jasmin stares out of the moving car. We caught a ride with one of the bouncers. He doesn’t mind giving us a lift for fifty bucks a night. It’s more than he should get for taking us in literally the same direction and destination he’s headed toward, but beggars can’t be choosers.

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