Trigger (17 page)

“Not that late for me. I don’t ever go to bed before one o’clock.”

“Oh. I guess I don’t go to bed very early either.”

Our eyes locked and I felt that same almost painfully strong pull toward the man who sat on my couch edge. Exhausted or not, he was still incredibly handsome. In fact, I thought the weariness made him even sexier. Against my will, a series of electric pulses rushed up the insides of my thighs, colliding in my erotic center.

I bit my lip to stop the inexplicable moan that wanted to come out of me suddenly. Oh, God, this was not what I needed right now…

He must have felt what I was feeling because suddenly he stood, and in two long strides he was before me, cupping my head, and kissed me hard.

My mind urged me to resist him, but my body didn’t care; it wanted his too much. I slid my arms around his neck and squeezed him close, letting him explore my mouth with his hungry tongue. I was grateful he was holding me so tightly because his deep kisses were literally melting me, turning me into a puddle, and I barely had the strength in my arms to hang onto him. Again, he must have sensed my reaction to him because his arms supported my back, stopped me from falling. Then his hands began slipping down to my behind. Cupping my jean-clad buttocks, he lifted me up. Automatically, I wrapped my legs around his waist.

Together, we moved toward my bedroom. I wasn’t sure how Dylan managed to open the door with such ease as he kissed me with such exquisite fervor and precision, igniting every nerve ending in my body to the point I thought I might come right then, nor did I really care. All that mattered was that he was here with me again, doing what he was doing to me so well. He placed me on the bed and, reluctantly, I let his lips leave mine as we tore off each other’s clothes. Before I knew it, he was inside me. Looking into my eyes, his own dark with desire, he began moving his hips back and forth. He pumped into me first slowly, then faster, yet faster until I came hard, my body rolling through a blitz of electric waves so intense I felt like I was flying. Seconds later, he pulled out and buried his face in the crook of my neck as he voiced his pleasure in loud moans, riding out his own release.

He remained lying on top of me, breathing against the sensitive skin on my neck. I liked the way his big body weighed heavily on mine and ran my fingers slowly through his thick hair that was stiff from hair gel.

“That feels good,” he mumbled into my skin.

“Oh, yeah?” I said, staring up into my ceiling.

“Yeah.” Silence followed during which I thought of nothing except for how good it felt to have him back in my arms. Only then did I realize just how much I had missed him, how much my body craved his,
needed
his.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows and faced me.

“Why did you try to push me off that cliff, Nina?”

I froze, the pleasurable moment shattered. Well, I might as well tell him the truth, as lame as it was. Tell him again.

“You scared me.”

“How? Can you elaborate a little?”

I frowned at him. “I told you exactly how in the email. You read it, right?”

“No. You actually sent me an email?” His eyes lit up and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I never got an email from you.”

“Well, I sent it the day after. I’ll show you. It’s among my sent emails.” I tried to sit up.

He stopped me. “Stay. I believe you. But I still never got it.”

“Really? Did you check your spam email?”

“Yeah. A lot. I was so hoping for an email from you.”

“That’s
so
weird. Because it didn’t come back to me, so it must’ve been delivered.”

“Did you check your spam email to see if it ended up there?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

I frowned. “What do you mean ‘how long’?”

“For how many days did you check your spam email to see if it came back?”

“I can’t remember. Probably only that evening and the next day. They always bounce back quickly if they’re not delivered. Like a couple hours later.”

“Well, it must’ve taken longer this time.” Dylan exhaled. “You don’t know how I was hoping for one from you telling me what the hell happened up on that cliff! What did it say?”

“A lot of things. But mostly I tried to explain how I really thought you were about to kill me right after you pulled me to my feet. You know, after I blew you… I felt like I was suffocating and had to get you away from me.” I sighed deeply. “That’s why I shoved you like that… Honestly, it was just a reflex. I wasn’t thinking, only reacting to the way you looked.”

Dylan knitted his eyebrows. “The way I looked? How did I look?”

“Like you wanted to see me dead.”

Dylan rolled off me, ending up sideways. He propped up his head on his hand. “I was having an orgasm. Are you saying I look like I want to
kill
you when I’m coming?”

I laughed without joy. “I suppose you do.”

“Wow…” Dylan ran his free hand over his face. “I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. That just sounds so totally… goofy. Like it’s part of an SNL skit. A bad one.” He gazed at me for a moment. “Was that the reason you left my apartment that first time, too? Because I looked like I wanted to kill you when I came?”

“It was similar. But up there on the cliff, it was much stronger. Much, much stronger.”

“Huh.” Dylan screwed up his face, looking like he was deeply considering this.

“What are you thinking?” I said when I felt he’d thought about it enough. “That I need to be put in a mental institution?”

His eyes found mine again. “Do you want to know the honest answer to that?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Even though I’d asked for the truth, his answer hurt. But I forced back the tears that burned the back of my eyelids.

Dylan’s face turned serious. “Nina, did you kill Emma?”

I gasped at his direct question. “What? No, of course I didn’t kill her! Why would I want to kill her?” But as the words were coming out of my mouth, I could think of a few reasons I had wanted to kill Emma that night. Because Dylan was holding her close, stroking her hair. Because she was so very pretty and reminded me of high school when all guys had shunned me. Because she had reminded me of one of the leaders of the basketball team that had terrorized me and Hannah.

But none of that mattered, because I had not killed Emma. I was not a murderer!

Again, Dylan seemed lost in thoughts, staring beyond me at nothing in particular. At least, it seemed like nothing in particular.

Dylan

The handbag that had hung across Nina’s body when I had spotted her at the club lay on her floor, among scattered clothes and shoes. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. It was definitely the same handbag. A very distinct purse, it was black, heart-shaped and made out of some glittery material, with a chain shoulder strap. The strap was broken in two.

A giant cold hand squeezed my heart.
Oh, God, she’s lying
. Why else was that strap broken? The police had even said they believed the strap used to strangle Emma had been something chain-like.

Nina turned her head to see what had caught my attention and she stiffened beside me.
Yes, she is definitely lying,
I thought. I felt sick suddenly.

“It’s the bag you had on you that night, isn’t it?” I said, my voice toneless.

“Yes.” Her response came out in a barely audible whisper. For a long moment, it was so quiet I heard someone walking right below Nina’s bedroom window despite that it was closed. The air in the room was filled with intense pressure, like the seconds before a downpour. I found myself not daring to breathe. Suddenly, Nina buried her face in her hands. Her body began to tremble and it didn’t take long before whimpers escaped her.

I felt like crying myself.
Oh, God, so she had actually killed Emma.
But no tears formed in my eyes, only my chest became tight, making it hard to breathe now that I finally let myself.

I considered the fact that I had just had sex with a murderer. What did that make me? Not a collaborator precisely, but there must be some term to describe what I was.

Still, not even this macabre realization could make me move away from her, stand up and leave like I thought I ought to do. It was as if I had become one with the mattress I lay on, one with the blubbering girl beside me, destined to remain there forever. I noticed then that Nina was trying to say something.

“I… I…” came from between her fingers.

I waited patiently for her to get out what she was trying to say.

“I… I don’t… know.” Her crying jags renewed in force after those words.

Gently, I removed her hands from her face. She sniffled, gasping for breath. Her skin looked blotchy red and swollen in the moon light that entered through the bedroom window.

“Calm down,” I said. “Take a deep breath. What is it that you don’t know?”

My demeanor must have a soothing effect on her because she did calm down. After a couple of deep inhalations, she cleared her voice. “If I killed her. I don’t know if I killed her. I don’t
think
I did, but I honestly don’t know. I can’t remember anything that happened after I bumped into her.”

I stared at the trembling girl. Well,
that
wasn’t exactly the answer I’d expected to hear. Why had I jumped to conclusion like that? A broken strap wasn’t enough evidence; anything could have snapped it in two. Someone could easily have gotten caught in it as Nina pushed herself through the masses at the club. Buttons in my own shirt had caught in some girl’s hair on my way over to the bar, I remembered then.

But what was she talking about? Bumping into who?

“Who did you bump into?” I said.

“Emma. When I was trying to get some fresh air, she was suddenly standing in my way and I walked right into her. Well, at least I think it was she… It looked just like her. But I’m not a hundred percent sure.”

“Stay right there,” I said. With one giant step, I’d left Nina’s bed and was walking toward the living room. As I reached the bedroom door, I stopped and turned to her.

“Are we alone?”

“Yeah…”

I opened the door carefully and peeked out into the living room to make sure. Then I walked to the bathroom where I got a bunch of toilet paper and soaked a towel in ice cold water. I brought it all back to Nina, who was sitting up and leaning against the wall now, her body partly hidden under the covers. She had switched on the lamp on the nightstand. She glanced at me with red-rimmed eyes.

I handed her the toilet paper and she blew her nose. “You can use this for your face.” I extended the wet towel. She gave me a grateful smile and patted her swollen face with it.

I sat beside her. “Now tell me exactly what happened from the moment you came to the club that night until you left. And you better not lie to me.”

She gave me an affronted look. “I would never lie to you. I might be crazy, but I’m not a friggin’ liar!”

“Okay, good. Now tell me what happened.”

She outlined everything that she and Ricki did until she passed out.

“Huh,” I said. “Do you have any idea what time you supposedly bumped into Emma?”

“No idea. And Ricki doesn’t know either. I’ve already asked her.”

“But Ricki knows that there… there’s a chance you might have killed Emma?”

Nina groaned. “Yeah. That cop went over to talk to her about it, so she knows everything.”

“What does she think? Does she think you strangled Emma?”

“She thinks I’m crazy for even thinking that I did. She’s sure I have absolutely nothing to do with it. Besides, she thinks she remembers my bag strap breaking when I fell.”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “Well, if Ricki doesn’t think you did it and the strap broke when you fell, you probably didn’t do it.”

“Yeah, but she isn’t perfectly sure about me falling… Also, she’s my best friend. She’d be the last person—except for my mother—who’d think I’d be capable of murdering anyone. She barely believed me when I told her about what happened on the cliff.” Nina gave me an apologetic glance. “Though she does think I should see someone. I had an appointment with a doctor this past week, but I was so depressed I couldn’t make myself go. Besides, it seems I should see a shrink than a regular physician anyway.” Nina paused. “Ricki has thought I should see one for a long time, for many reasons. And I’m beginning to think she’s right.”

“I’ll have to agree. Have you ever been to a shrink?”

“No. I don’t believe in shrinks… But after what’s happened, I’m willing to give one a chance. I’ve gotta do
something
. I mean, it’s obvious something’s wrong with me for doing what I did up on that cliff.”

“I think it would be great if you went. I know a really good psychiatrist. A friend of the family. She’s successfully treated lots of famous people. And they have issues way worse than yours.”

“That sounds great, but I can’t afford someone that great.”

“Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll take care of it.”

“You’ll take care of it?” Nina sat taller. “But I’m sure it’ll amount to
thousands
of dollars if she’s so good. I mean, I doubt she’ll fix me in one session—-if she’ll fix me. Don’t the top ones charge like 3-400 bucks an hour?”

“That’s true, but, like I said, don’t worry about it. My dad’s helped her out a lot with legal issues, so she owes my family a big favor. I might as well cash in on it now.”

“Okay, I’ll do it. But only if you pay her and I can pay you back later. Find out what she’d normally be charging and then we’ll keep track of that, so I can pay you back.” Nina looked me straight in the eyes. “I won’t
always
be a struggling actress, you know. It’s only matter of time before I make it big.”

I smiled and pinched her cheek. “After seeing how good you were at Bliss, I don’t doubt that for a second. You really don’t have to pay me anything, but, okay, if you insist, I’ll pay her and we can keep track of the costs. Is it okay if she’ll give you a special rate at least since you’re not rich at the moment? It’s common practice for most therapists to charge patients on a sliding scale depending on their income.”