His First Surrender (Stonewall Investigations Miami 3)

“Have you seen my laptop?”

And before I could even answer, Nick pushed past me, his skinny frame surprisingly strong. I could smell cigarette smoke in his greasy hair, which he seemed to have chopped off some inches from. It no longer reached the small of his back, ending closer to his shoulders now. On his arms, I could see what looked suspiciously like track marks, and some of them seemed fresh.

“Whoa, what the hell,” Hazel said, standing up. Olive stayed sitting, looking around with confusion on her face.

“My laptop. Where the fuck is it?”

“Dude, not here, I can tell you that for sure,” I said, feeling more and more nervous.

Nick did a lap around the living room, while the three of us looked at each other, unsure of what to do next. Calling the cops was on my mind, but I was scared that could cause a much bigger ordeal. Maybe he just needed to do a lap, seeing that his computer wasn’t here, and he’d leave our lives for good.

“Fuck you all, it has to be here.”

I put myself between Nick and the girls. I didn’t like the way he was looking at Hazel. “If you had left it here before Jesse died, then it’s probably locked up in an evidence closet at the police station.”

He backed up, hitting the counter behind him. “I left it here. Are you bitches hiding it from me?”

“Absolutely not,” Hazel said from behind me.

“Nick, you need to leave.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Now. Or I’m calling the cops and you can check out their evidence room for yourself.”

He looked at the phone in my hand, as if gauging how real the threat was. I unlocked it and dialed nine. He perked up. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans, he huffed and stormed past me.

“Fuck this shit,” he hissed as he walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

The three of us let out a relieved breath in unison.

“What in the world was that about?” Olive asked.

“Olive, when you signed the lease…” Hazel ran a hand through her hair, moving some auburn brown strands from her face. “Did they tell you what happened to our last roommate?”

She cocked her head. “No…”

Hazel and I both took deep breaths. My phone started ringing then. “Oh shit.” It was Rocky. He was calling to tell me he was downstairs. “Gah, sorry, you guys, Rocky’s here.”

“Go, go,” Hazel said. “This is going to take a while.”

Olive, still looking scared and confused, waved me off. “Go, and have a good time. We want to hear all the X-rated details when you get back. I want a full PowerPoint presentation.”

That got a laugh out of me. “I’ll make sure to use really cool effects.”

“You better,” Olive said.

“If Nick comes back, don’t open the door, okay?” I grabbed my keys. “Call the police. That guy’s no good.”

I left the apartment, feeling bad that I couldn’t be there to help Hazel tell the story of what happened with Jesse, but I knew she could get through it, and I knew Olive would most likely understand. As I walked down the stairs, I tried to shake off the negative cloud Nick had left in his wake. It felt like I was walking through a thick fog. The heavy humidity that clung to my skin sure didn’t help.

Rocky was waiting for me in his Corvette, the engine purring as I approached. Growing up the way I had, I never really cared much for material things, but there was definitely no denying a certain sexiness about slipping into a car more expensive than all the things I owned put together. Multiplied by a thousand. It was even nicer that Rocky wasn’t very flashy about it. Sure, the Corvette was a bright red and clearly made a statement against the backdrop of Toyotas and Hondas, but Rocky never really flaunted it. He certainly never spoke or bragged about it and was never the kind of douche that makes his car rev at every stoplight. Neither was he ever looking for a race. He drove it because he liked it, and that was that on that, and it made me like him more than I could ever like any kind of car.

The sun was just beginning to set, splashing the sky in hues of gold and purple. I opened the door and practically melted into the bucket seat. “Hey, babe,” Rocky said. I leaned over and gave him a kiss, placing a hand on his neck and turning the kiss into a steamier version.

“Whoa, that’s a good hello,” Rocky said, sitting back with a smile on his glossy lips. He looked so handsome in his dark red polo shirt and light jeans.

“Guess it’s the adrenaline.”

“Adrenaline? Did you skydive into the parking lot?”