Trigger (22 page)

“You could?”

“Yes. Especially when I asked you how things were going with your investigation. It was obvious they hadn’t gone well.”

Huh.
And I who’d thought I’d been so smooth in my answer.

“Yeah,” she continued. “I figured your investigation couldn’t have yielded very good results from the violent way you took me. Not that I didn’t like that…” She gave me a mischievous little smile. “I love it when you’re being rough like that. Makes me
so
hot.”

I smiled back at her. “Yeah, I noticed that. I’ll remember for the future.”

“Mmmm. Yes,
please
do. Though it might become a bit expensive if you’re gonna keep ripping up my panties. That pair was La Perla and cost me like thirty bucks.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll buy you new ones. As many as you want. How was your session with Leslie yesterday?”

I had yet to hear from Leslie regarding it. Surely she’d call me about it tomorrow, when it was Monday and a weekday.

When Nina didn’t say anything, I loosened my grip around her and put a finger under her chin. As I met her gaze, I discovered that her slanted hazel eyes were glazed with tears.

“What’s wrong?” I said. “Did something happen?”

She still didn’t say anything. Instead, she buried her face in my chest and I felt how she began crying. Not knowing what else to do, I began stroking her dark tresses with my free hand, letting her get out whatever it was that she needed to get out. By the time she was done, my T-shirt had become completely wet at the front of my chest. She gazed up at me with red-rimmed eyes and sniffled. I handed her a few napkins that I’d pulled from a plastic holder on the bar counter. She took them without a word and loudly blew her nose. She gave an embarrassed little smile when she was done.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

“Don’t be silly, Nina. I want you to feel comfortable with me. If you need to cry a little, that’s okay.”

“Okay.” She brightened and her smile grew wider. “Thank you.”

“Though, next time please grab some napkins and put them between my shirt and your face
before
you start crying.”

Her smile died and her eyes widened. Then she got that I was kidding and slapped my shoulder. “Ha, ha, ha.”

“You’re not the only one who can crack jokes, honey.” I smiled and kissed her head. “So you don’t wanna talk about it then?”

“The session?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we do it another time?”

“Whenever you want to, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Nina

I was feeling better than ever in the days that followed. Telling Leslie what happened when Chrissy and Tara and the other girls chased me and Hannah into the airport hangar had been surprisingly cathartic. Leslie had been correct in assuming talking about the event had been good for me, no matter how uncomfortable it had made me feel at the time. Not even the detectives who’d questioned me at the hospital were aware of all the details I had given her. It hadn’t been necessary since several of the girls involved in the beating had offered plenty of detail and all stories corresponded.

I cried a lot in the days that followed, which seemed to help me process what had happened so I could put the event behind me at last. According to Leslie, my actions during it were natural considering all the stress I had been under, not to mention my age. I couldn’t have foreseen that these girls would beat Hannah and me to the extent they had. I needed to stop blaming myself for not having died myself because of it. These girls—particularly Chrissy and Tara—were clearly looking for a reason to attack us, so it had only been a matter of time before that happened anyway. I remembered that I’d found out Chrissy was the victim of abuse by a family member and that her team was losing the state playoffs at the time, lending even more weight to Leslie’s assertions. Chrissy and her team had needed someone to take out their frustrations on.

During our most recent session, Leslie pointed out that if Hannah truly had been as special as I claimed, then she’d want me to enjoy life to the fullest. The way life was supposed to be lived. She’d certainly not want me to beat myself up to the extent that I was doing. Instead, she’d have appreciated that I stood up for her when no one else would.

“If you ask me,” Leslie said, “
you
’re the one who’s special. It takes a lot of guts to do what you did. We don’t know if Hannah would have done the same for you.”

Leslie was right. It was time for me to stop punishing myself.

Learning about how Emma had died had come out of nowhere, but certainly added to the well-being that permeated me lately. I had read everything I could about Jackie Rhodes and how the arrest and investigation of her had unfolded. Jackie’s alibi, which had turned out to be fake in the end, momentarily threw off the cops. The fact that Jackie didn’t have an apparent motive to want to see Emma dead had added to their derailment. It was only when the person who Jackie claimed to have spent the rest of the night with told the police this was a lie that Detective Brando decided to pay Jackie another visit. But before he got around to see her, her guilty conscience had been too much for her to handle, and so she had gone to the station of her own volition to confess to the crime. All the forensic evidence fit with her story, so the case was now considered solved.

There was only one thing that still bothered me. Leslie and I remained clueless about what had made me freak out up on that mountain. Of course, considering that I’d only just begun therapy, maybe this wasn’t so strange. The fact that I no longer filled with a sense of overpowering guilt each time I looked at Hannah’s photo was progress enough. I should be grateful it had happened as soon as it had. With time, I was convinced Leslie and I would uncover what demons Dylan had triggered within me and why. I just had to be patient, something I had always struggled with.

For now I should focus on getting on with my life, see what would become of me and Dylan. We had been in touch every day since he showed up at my apartment to ask me if I had killed Emma, and things between us were getting serious. Well, more serious than anything else I had ever experienced with a man. My longest relationship—if you could call it a relationship—had lasted a month before I lost interest in the guy.

With Dylan it was different. I couldn’t get enough of him and he clearly felt the same way about me. If someone would’ve told me I’d come to feel this way that night when we first met, I’d have laughed that person in the face. But I did. There was no point in denying it any longer. Despite that Dylan had physically repelled me a couple of times—literally—I was crazy about him. If I had my way, I’d want him to move in with me. Or better, I with him in his huge apartment in the Hollywood Hills. I could get used to living in that nice place. The way the rooms took up the entire corner of the building and the windows covered most of the walls, the sunrise and sunsets were amazing to watch from there. If things continued to go as well as they did between us, I’d drop a hint that I wouldn’t mind living there. I had a feeling he’d jump at the idea.

Dylan

The house Nixon’s client owned and had offered to lend Nixon for his birthday party was located right by the beach in Malibu. A popular hip hop song streamed out from the lit windows, reaching my ears as I parked my BMW on the street, just barely fitting between two other cars. Nina grabbed my knee when I’d switched off the ignition.

“Are you okay?” she said.

“Sure,” I lied. The prospect of meeting Nina’s group of friends was a lot more nerve-racking than I’d thought. I was dreading the moment they’d see me together with Nina. From what I’d gleaned, her friends were not like mine. Most of her friends seemed to be either artists or in the fitness industry or both. Not that I didn’t know anyone who was in those fields, but the ones I knew were from a more privileged background. What if Nina’s friends didn’t like me, thought I was a snob? The birthday boy, Nixon, especially seemed to be the kind of guy I tended not to get along with, full of tattoos and his head shaved. Unfortunately, he was someone Nina clearly dug since she not only spoke of him like he could be her older brother, but had also bought him so many gifts you’d think it was for five different people. If he and I didn’t hit it off, it would suck now that things between me and Nina were finally getting on track. The last thing we needed was another obstacle to get around. Honestly, I wasn’t sure our fragile relationship would survive another bump in the road.

She nibbled my earlobe. “Liar,” she whispered. “You’re stiff like a board. Don’t worry. My friends’ll love you! You’ve already won over Ricki, who’s very protective of me.”

I nodded, feeling a little better. I was probably overreacting. Besides, I suddenly remembered, I did have a few friends who weren’t as well to do. “If you say so. Let’s go then.”

Hand in hand, we walked to the front door at the back of the beachfront house. Nina squeezed my hand and gave me an encouraging smile. Warmth flooded my gut, soothing my frayed nerves. I smiled back and bent down to kiss her on the crown of her head.
Yes, I’m definitely overreacting. It’ll be fine.

Instead of ringing the doorbell, Nina walked straight into the foyer of the house. Music and the sound of talking people met us as we entered. Nina pulled me into a big, open space in which several people stood around with drinks in their hands, most of them talking, some laughing. A few were sitting on couches and chairs to one side of the well-lit space, nibbling on chips and peanuts. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows leading out to a wide terrace showed the sun having just set over the Pacific Ocean, coloring the sky in an impressive array of pinks, oranges and purples. I spotted who must be Nixon based on how Nina had explained him. A medium-height, muscular Latin guy with his arms covered in tattoos stood in the middle of the room talking to a couple of girls. He must be very good at entertaining these girls, I noted, because they were cracking up after pretty much everything he said.

The jumpy sensation in my gut that had disappeared when Nina squeezed my hand returned. I took a deep breath through my nostrils to calm myself.
Chill, you idiot
, I told myself.
It’s just another dude
. Who just happened to be built like a brick house and apparently was funny as hell. Well, I knew a few guys who were like that. But those guys weren’t ones Nina adored.

Nixon spotted us then. He lifted a huge arm and waved in our direction. Nina let go off me and rushed up to throw herself into Nixon’s huge embrace. I did my best to ignore the jealousy that stabbed my core like a dozen small knives.

“Happy birthday, Nix!!” Nina said. She practically disappeared when Nixon hugged her close and pressed a big kiss onto Nina’s head. The head I had just kissed. All those little knives grew and twisted around and around within my innards as I watched them. It felt like a lifetime until Nixon finally let go off Nina. When he did, Nina handed him the big bag of gifts she’d gotten together for him. He received it, surprise spreading over his caramel-colored face.

“How many gifts did you get me?” he said, gazing into the bag. He grinned big at Nina.

“Oh, only four. Well, five.”

He took her in his arms again. “Wow, you must
really
love me.”

That’s what I’m thinking
, I thought, feeling like I had suddenly turned into a dark cloud.

“Don’t worry,” a familiar voice said next to me. “Nixon’s gay. Besides, she only has eyes for you. Trust me on that one.”

I turned to the voice and discovered Ricki standing there, her strawberry hair parted in pigtails like a little girl, lips painted carmine as usual. She looked at me with a meaningful face. I was so glad to see her, the only person out of this big bunch of strangers I knew, that I threw my arms around her and hugged her like she was my long lost sister. When I released her, she looked a little disheveled.

“O-
kay
,” she said. “I guess you must be pretty happy to see me then.”

“Yes, I have to admit I was a little nervous coming here to meet all of Nina’s friends,” I said, a little embarrassed.

Ricki looked confused. “Why would you be nervous? They’re super cool! And they’ll love you for making sure Nina’s finally seeing a therapist.” She bit her lip. “Okay, maybe that’s taking it a bit far… You probably shouldn’t mention the therapist stuff to anyone. I mean, just in case you were thinking of doing it. Not that you probably were.” She started giggling. “Sorry, I’m rambling. Have had a few too many of these.” Ricki held up a bottle of Heineken. “But you should know that Nixon and I love you for it. Seeing that therapist has
really
helped her. She needed to get all that guilt off her chest she’s been carrying around for so long about that whole ordeal in high school. She thinks we don’t get it because she’s only told us the bare minimum, but we do. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. So thank you for convincing her to go. She can finally forgive herself for being the only one who survived.”

I frowned. “The only one who survived? What do you mean?”

“Those girls killed her friend during the beating. You didn’t know?”

“Are you talking about when she was bullied in high school?”

“Yes. The girls that beat up Nina and her friend only managed to kill Hannah. Well, I don’t think they had actually
planned
on killing them, but that’s what happened with Hannah. They were probably only trying to beat them up. Anyway, Hannah was her friend.”

“So Nina wasn’t the only one who was bullied in high school then?”

“Right, she wasn’t the only one. Actually, if it wasn’t for Nina being friends with Hannah, she wouldn’t have been bullied at all. Hannah was the one those girls always picked on. But because of the therapy, Nina has finally gotten it into her head that she shouldn’t feel guilty because only she survived.”

“Hey, are you done hogging my boyfriend soon or what?” Nina’s voice cut through the din in the room then. Both Ricki and I turned to her. Nina was standing beside Nixon. She gazed at me. “Dylan, may I introduce you to the birthday boy, who also happens to be the best trainer in SoCal?”