Page 94 of Release Me

“Yeah, you were wearing a red dress. I thought I caught a glimpse of you walking out the door.”

“At least someone there saw me in it. Omar and I got there late. We missed dinner and everything, and then the asshole bailed on me.” Her nose wrinkles in annoyance, and I’m hit with the sudden memory of her rehashing all the details of her dates with clients while I remained tight lipped about mine. “Apparently his ex-girlfriend heard about him bringing me home and wanted to have a conversation with him.”

“That sounds… complicated. Where’s Omar now?”

“On a work call or something?” She shrugs. “I didn’t ask questions when he gave me a stack of cash and told me to make myself scarce for a few hours.”

“Sounds like a good set up.”

Her eyes rove over my face, and I know she’s doing the same visual assessment I did of her just minutes ago. “Not as good of a set up as what you have going on here. You’ve got me thinking maybe I should stay in New Haven and find me a big spender to finance my life.”

I bristle internally. This is what I’ve always hated about my relationship with Bianca. It takes all of five seconds for us to go from nice, normal conversation to verbal jabs and back handed compliments.

“No one is financing my life, Bianca. I have a job, and I make good money that allows me to take care of myself.” It’s not exactly the truth considering the fact that I’ve yet to successfully make a rent payment, but it’s all I’m willing to give her because I’m damn sure not going to tell her about Sebastian, Cerros or any other good thing in my life.

“Calm down. I was just making conversation,” she says finally, drumming her nails on the table. “So, tell me, what happened to you after you left for that job in Florida?”

I tell her everything I’m comfortable sharing, which is mostly information about the horror movie of a weekend that laid the foundation for my escape. She gasps when I tell her about the accident, and tears well in her eyes when I admit to praying for death.

“After the accident, I ended up here in New Haven. I met some kind people who helped me out and got a good job.”

“Are you planning on staying here?” My eyes narrow into slits, and Bianca laughs. “Damn, Nyla, I’m just asking a question. It’s not like I’m going to call Beau and tell him you’re here. I wouldn’t even know how to reach him.”

“Do you think he’s looking for me?”

Bianca stares at me for a long second before she answers. “You know he used to say that your life and his were linked? When you left, he’d say it all the time. He’d get drunk and beat me and mumble about how you had to come back to him because your life was his. To control. To ruin. To take.”

The emphasis on the last word makes my heart stop. My fingers shake as I bring my cup to my lips and take a sip of coffee I can’t even taste.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Bianca?”

“It means I don’t think he’s looking for you, Nyla. I know he is. And when he finds you, which I swear I won’t help him do, I hope you have more than a few kind people in your corner.”

33

NADIA

Zoe’s warnings about how intense Madeline gets in the kitchen during Thanksgiving has, thus far, been an exaggeration. Sebastian and I arrived a little after noon and found her playing music and drinking wine while she mixed up the cornbread needed to make the dressing. She welcomed me with open arms, ordering Sebastian to put the cheesecake I made in the fridge and exit the kitchen immediately to leave the two of us to our work. Sebastian left me with a kiss on the forehead and then ran off to find his father and siblings in another part of the house.

We’ve been at it for a few hours now, and the only thing left to do before dinner is served is put the rolls in the oven, which is what Madeline is doing when her sister, Adrienne, walks into the kitchen with a red velvet cake in her hand and a smile on her face.

“The party has arrived!” She does a cute little shimmy that Madeline joins in on almost immediately. With the two of them standing side by side, I can see the resemblance. Only, it’s more than a resemblance. They have the same umber skin and round, deep set eyes that are filled with kindness when they settle on your face. I’m drying off a bowl from the last round of dishes I washed when I feel both sets on me. Madeline’s gaze is all motherly affection and pride, while Adrienne’s is all happy curiosity.

“Sebastian didn’t tell me you two are twins.”

Both women cackle, and I look between them, wondering how that never came up in conversation. “We don’t typically advertise it,” Madeline says. “Addy, this is Nadia Hendrix. Nadia, this is my sister, Adrienne.”

“Nadia!” Adrienne comes at me with her arms open wide. Her hug is as warm as her expression when she pulls back and smiles at me. “You are radiant!”

“Uh, thanks.” I find myself laughing because it’s such an uncommon compliment. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. Sebastian has told me so much about you.”

He calls her his favorite aunt, which is why I was nervous about meeting her. Well, one of the reasons, anyway. The other reason walks through the door with a scowl on his face that only deepens when he sees me in his mother’s arms.

Vince.

“Everything except the fact that I’m his mom’s twin, huh?” Adrienne asks, completely unaware of the uncomfortable energy that’s just taken over the kitchen. Vince is hugging his aunt, but his eyes are still on me. They’re blood shot and low, which suggests that he’s high. Usually, that would make me hopeful for a more mellow version of him, but Vince strikes me as the kind of person whose worst traits are exacerbated by substances, not calmed by them.

“Yes, ma’am. I guess he didn’t think that was pertinent information.”

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