‘Don’t let what I’ve told you stop you from touching me. You would never hurt me, Thorne. It’s not in your nature. You’re a protector.’ She leaned in, pronouncing each word with emphasis. ‘You would never hurt me.’ She nuzzled her cheek against his, whispering in his ear. ‘I liked sex before Evan. A lot. I like it with you. A lot. He tried to steal that from me, and for four years I let him. Don’t let him steal it from me any longer. From us.’
Exhausted, Thorne could only nod, but she seemed satisfied, because she smiled at him again. ‘We’ve had a long-ass day. I’m ready to sleep. You up for that?’
‘With you? Always.’ He stood, hauling her up with him, pushing up her skirt so that she could wrap her legs around him.
‘Just so you know?’ she said as he carried her to the bedroom. ‘I could totally get used to this.’
‘Then that’s my new goal.’
‘What was your old goal?’
He nuzzled his face into her neck. ‘Hearing you say that you love me.’
She went silent, then expelled a shaky breath. ‘That was a good goal, Thorne,’ she whispered, her voice thick with tears. ‘A damn good goal.’
He sat on the bed, lowering her to her feet so that she stood between his knees. ‘I thought so. Say it again. Please.’
Her eyes were shiny. ‘I love you, Thomas Thorne.’
Hands on her hips, he pulled her closer so that his cheek rested against her breasts. The world might be going to shit around them, but for this moment he was content. Happy in a way he couldn’t ever remember. ‘Love you too.’
Twenty-one
Silver Spring, Maryland,
Wednesday 15 June, 10.00 A.M.
Thorne stared at the small drapery shop that doubled as home to the older sister of Colton Brandenberg, one of Richard Linden’s posse. The one who’d most surprised him when they’d beaten him up nineteen years ago. The one who’d all but disappeared after high school graduation.
‘What’s wrong?’ Gwyn asked quietly from the passenger seat.
‘I’m . . . nervous,’ Thorne admitted. He glanced into the rear-view mirror of the SUV that had been waiting outside Gwyn’s condo when they’d come downstairs to meet JD. The SUV was one of Joseph’s personal vehicles, and the Fed had asked Thorne and Gwyn to use it until this whole nightmare was over. With bullet-resistant windows and door panels, it was a gift worth its weight in gold.
JD, appointed their personal guardian for the duration, pulled up behind them in another of Joseph’s SUVs. He didn’t get out, waiting instead for Thorne.
Reaching over the center console, Gwyn tapped Thorne’s arm. ‘Why are you nervous?’
‘Well, for starters, I’m worried she’ll be dead.’
‘That’s actually fair. Why else?’
He sighed. ‘Colton Brandenberg and I were friends once. I’d just started at Ridgewell and so had he. We were both new kids. We both played soccer and we both liked science class.’
‘I thought you liked history and music.’
He shrugged. ‘I liked everything. And I knew I had to nail all the science classes if I wanted a scholarship. Colton was better at it than I was and my old school hadn’t been as good as Ridgewell. I was behind. He tutored me until I caught up. Then in our sophomore year, he joined Richard’s posse. I don’t know why or how. Richard was pretty selective in who he let into his circle.’
‘Like Mean Girls, but with boys?’
‘Exactly. Even after he joined Richard, though, he wasn’t an asshole to me. Not until that day at school.’
‘When you dragged Richard off Angie.’
‘Right. I don’t know if Richard threw any actual punches, but he did kick me a few times. Colton threw some punches. Darian threw the first punch. Caught me in the jaw. Chandler, the one who’s a cop now, he got in the second, an uppercut that had me biting into my tongue and spitting blood everywhere. And it was probably Chandler who did the most damage to my knee. But it was Colton who broke my nose that day. I remember lying on the floor of the hallway, just staring up at him as he lit into me. I was . . . I don’t know. Stunned.’
‘Betrayed,’ Gwyn murmured.
‘Yes. That too. That more, in fact. I don’t know what to make of the fact that he disappeared.’
‘Or that he seemed to be a zombie when he testified at your trial?’
‘I don’t remember that,’ he confessed. ‘I just remember wondering what I’d done to make him hate me as much as he’d seemed to that day. Because it wasn’t just aggression, not like it was with Darian and Chandler. They were bullies. They’d have beaten up anyone that Richard told them to beat up. Colton seemed to hate me.’
She gave his arm a squeeze. ‘Let’s go talk to the sister. Maybe she can shed some light on it. Plus, we’re kind of sitting ducks here.’
He jerked his head up, unable to believe that he’d forgotten to be careful. ‘JD must be wondering if I’m insane.’
‘I think he’s known the answer to that for a long time.’ She unbuckled her seat belt. ‘He loves you anyway.’ She leaned in to kiss his cheek. ‘And before you ask, I love you too. Now move it, big guy.’
Smiling now, he got out of the SUV and helped her down. She was significantly shorter today, having substituted her customary heels with running shoes at his request. Just in case.
‘Everything okay?’ JD asked cautiously as he approached them.
‘Yeah. Just hoping everybody in there is breathing,’ Thorne said.
JD grimaced in commiseration. ‘Let’s go make sure.’
The three of them marched to the shop’s front door, which sported a colorful sign proclaiming: Creations by Christina. In the window was a mannequin wearing a beautiful lace wedding gown. A smaller sign at the mannequin’s feet read: Custom Designs Available On Request.
Gwyn whistled softly. ‘If she designed that gown, she’s as talented as Prew’s wife said.’ She looked up at Thorne and JD, frowning when she had to crane her head back farther than usual. ‘Who’s on point?’
‘Not me,’ JD said. ‘I’m here as your friend only. No official capacity.’
‘I can pretend to be a customer,’ Gwyn said. ‘Like I did with Angie.’
‘No, I’ll be on point,’ Thorne said. ‘Worst that can happen is that she tells me to go to hell.’
He knocked on the door, but nobody answered. Tugging on the handle, he found it unlocked. Because it’s a business, idiot. He opened the door and entered first, pausing in the doorway to make sure it was clear before gesturing Gwyn and JD inside, where a country music radio station warred with the whir of a sewing machine. The front of the shop was all fabric and big books of patterns and dressmaker’s dummies in various stages of dress. An open doorway led to another room, presumably the sewing area.
‘Hello?’ Thorne called, and the sewing machine whir immediately ceased. A few seconds later, the radio was switched off and a woman came to the doorway. She was tall and thin, her dark brown hair streaked with silver.
Christina Brandenberg, Colton’s sister. She’d graduated four years ahead of them, so Thorne hadn’t known her in school. But he remembered her from the times he’d hung out at Colton’s house, before Colton had been absorbed into Richard’s circle of friends.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked warily.
‘I hope so,’ Thorne said. ‘Do you remember me?’
She lifted her gaze to his face for a few moments without registering any shock, then closed her eyes. ‘Of course. Tommy White. Although you don’t go by that name anymore.’
‘No. I don’t. Look, I don’t mean to bother you, but I’m looking for some information and it might involve your brother.’
She lifted her hand like a traffic cop. ‘He’s not here and I do not know where he is. I can’t help you, so if you’d see yourselves out, I have work to do.’ She started to turn, but Gwyn took a step forward and briefly touched her arm.
‘Wait, please. Your brother could be in danger.’
Christina froze. ‘I told you, I don’t know where he is. I have no contact information for him.’
Gwyn nodded. ‘I hear you. But have you seen the news?’
‘Who are you?’ Christina asked, narrowing her eyes.
‘My name is Gwyn Weaver, and this is our friend JD Fitzpatrick. I’m . . . Well, Thorne is our friend. My priority right now is to clear his name.’
‘Then you have quite a task ahead of you. Murder isn’t an easy charge to skirt.’
‘I know,’ Thorne said carefully. ‘I’ve already done it once.’