“Oh.” Jamie frowns, meeting my eyes, as confused as I am. “Well, I just assumed.”
“Maybe he was embarrassed to tell us he lost his job?” I direct the question toward Charles, who shakes his head.
“He wasn’t terminated. Ollie was doing well.”
I’m baffled, and I glance toward Damien out of habit and am surprised by the expression on his face. As if he’s puzzling something out. As if pieces are falling into place.
“Damien?”
He lifts his head, his gaze steady on mine. “I’m not sure he was. Doing well, I mean.”
I think about his house. What Jamie said about his debt. I swallow. This is one of my best friends we’re talking about.
Damien looks at Ryan, who looks miserable. Ryan swallows, then looks between Jamie and me. Then he turns to Quincy, who rubs his chin. It’s been a while since he shaved, and I hear the sandpaper-like sound of his hand over the scruff.
“Bloody hell,” Quincy says. “Ollie’s been in town since yesterday.”
“So what?” Jamie says. Then her eyes widen. “Wait, you’ve been looking at Ollie for the kidnapping? You guys seriously already have Orlando McKee on your suspect list? Like he would ever—ever—hurt Nikki. That’s bullshit. That is total, fucking bullshit.”
I’m glad she’s saying it, because I feel too lost to even capture my own thoughts. Like the nightmare is spinning me down into a deep, deep vortex, and there’s no one there to throw me a rope. Not even Damien.
“Him saying that he just got into town could mean anything,” Jamie continues. “It doesn’t mean he’s been sneaking around kidnapping children. He’s not obligated to ring us the second he gets off a plane.”
“He asked me for money,” Damien says, and I turn to him in shock. “Fifty grand. About a month ago.”
I blink, trying to focus. To understand. “Did you give it to him?”
A moment passes, then another. Then Damien shakes his head. “No.”
I sit. “I see.” I draw in a breath. “One of my best friends. The friend who got me through all that bullshit with Kurt.”
Damien flinches, as does Jamie. They’re the only two in the room who know what I’m talking about. How Kurt ripped me apart because of my cutting all those years ago. And how Ollie held me and soothed me and put me back together. He was there for me before Damien was. Hell, if it wasn’t for Ollie—and Jamie—I’m not sure I would have Damien now. I’m not sure I’d have anything now.
“My friend asks you for help—for an amount that means nothing to you. And not only do you turn him down, but you don’t even tell me.”
“It’s not what you think,” he says.
“No,” I agree. “It’s worse.” Everything is piling on. Brick after brick, wearing me down until I feel like I’m going to get hammered right into the ground. Until I’m going to get sucked under and disappear altogether.
“Nikki.” Damien is in front of me, his hands on my upper arms. “It’s not what you think,” he says again. “And we will get her back.”
I want to believe him, but I’m too lost. Too scared. And instead of speaking, I make a strangled gasping sound, then wrench myself out of his grip. My hand goes over my mouth as I hurry toward the girls’ room, only to be intercepted by Evelyn.
“Whoa there, Texas. It’s going to be okay.”
I wish I could believe her, but all I can do is shake my head. Secrets and lies and obfuscation. It never ends. It just never fucking ends. “I thought I was stronger than this,” I say.
“You are,” she says. “What you two are going through would break anybody. But you’re not broken, Texas,” she says. “A little bent, maybe.”
I actually smile, and it feels good. A random thought comes into my head, and I tilt my head as I look at Evelyn. “Are you the one keeping the press out of this? Or have we just got lucky that they haven’t caught wind of it yet?”
Evelyn Dodge is a powerhouse in this town. She’s held every job imaginable, including publicity. Now she works as an agent, representing Lyle and Jamie, among many others. “See? You are lucky. I would have heard if they knew,” she said. “So far, crickets. And I’ll do my best to keep it that way.”
“Good. I figured,” I add. “If it was out there, her bosses would have Jamie in front of me with a microphone.”
“What? Oh. Yes. Of course, they would.”
I watch Evelyn’s face, and feel my own crumple. “You, too?” I ask.
She frowns, clearly baffled by my question.
“Everyone’s trying to protect me. I hoped you’d be straight. For that matter, considering you’re a powerhouse of an agent, I figured you were a better liar. But something’s going on with Jamie that you’re not telling me.”
She snorts. “And that’s why I love you, Texas.”
“So?”
She looks miserable as she steers me to the relative privacy of the kitchen. “She didn’t want you to worry, so you say nothing. You swear?”
I nod, pretty sure I know what’s coming. “Lacey Dunlop? They fired Jamie and put in Lacey Dunlop?”
Evelyn shakes her head. Not in denial, but in disbelief. “Jamie’s so much better, but those asshats wouldn’t know real talent if it was sucking their collective dicks.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Because, honestly, it’s not funny at all. “What’s she going to do?”
Evelyn waves away my words. “Right now, she’s here for you. That’s an exact quote, by the way. And after Anne is back and safe and happy, I’ll send her out on interviews. She’ll end up with a better gig and more money, and fuck them.”
“I like that plan.” I fear it’s too optimistic, though. I know how competitive the market is. And if her station deemed her less appealing than Lacey Dunlop…
I let the thought go. For the time being, at least, my best friend’s career is the least of my worries. But, damn, I love her for putting me and my family first.
22
We’re all waiting downstairs when the guard escorts Ollie into the house. Naturally skinny, he’s filled out since the last time I saw him. His wavy hair is long again, almost brushing his shoulders, and he’s pulled it back in a man-bun, which surprisingly suits him.
Beside me, I feel Damien tense, and I reach down, curling my fingers around his wrist. Ollie’s brow is furrowed—why wouldn’t it be? He’s never needed a guard to come inside before—and when his eyes find mine, the spillway opens and I start crying, the tears I’ve fought off for hours now coming in full force.
“Nikki?” His eyes go to Damien, hard and hot. “What the hell have you done to her?”
It’s as if his words have lit a fire, and Damien bursts forward, one hand on Ollie’s chest pushing him back against the wall, the oth
er on his throat, holding him there.
“Damien! Stop!” I have no idea how I get across the room, but I’m there before even Quincy or Ryan, and I grab his arm and tug him back. Or I try to. He’s like stone.
Seconds later, Ryan wrestles him off, and Damien backs away, his face a mass of fury, Ollie’s colored with confusion.
“What the hell?” He looks wildly around at all of us. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on?”
“Anne’s been kidnapped,” I say. The words seem too tame, the syllables too mundane for all the fear that is tied up inside those three little words.
“Oh, God.” He reaches back, his hands sliding down the wall as he drops down, ending up splayed on the ground with his legs out in front of him. “Kidnapped? Kidnapped? And you don’t call the police? You don’t pull in the FBI?”
He closes his eyes, his face painted in horror as he draws in deep breaths. “How?” he finally asks. “Who?”
No one says a word, and I watch as Ollie’s eyes sweep the room. As realization dawns.
“Oh, fuck. Seriously?” His eyes meet mine, then search out Jamie, standing behind me at the base of the stairs. “No way. You two know me. There’s no way I’d hurt her. She’s my niece. Maybe not by blood, but she’s my niece. And you know that,” he adds, pointing at Damien. “Whatever differences we’ve had, you know that.”
“Damien,” I say gently. “Please. Trust me. It’s not Ollie.”
“Tell you what,” Damien says, looking at Ollie, not me. “I’ll trust Ollie. If he takes a lie detector test.”
“Damien…”
He turns to me. “Why not? Sofia took it. Passed it. Now you feel better about her.”
Better is a relative term, but I am at least sure that she didn’t take my baby. She’s still around, though. Holed up in one of the first floor bedrooms, staying out of the way until this is over. I know Damien has gone down to see her once or twice. I’m content to try and forget she’s in the house.
Still, I suppose Damien makes a good argument. “It’s fair,” I tell Ollie. “You know I believe you, but just take the polygraph.”