Page 25 of Don't Speak
What is it with this man? Why am I letting all my guards down with him? I think this is my brain telling me THIS is normalcy. I’m just so used to people breaking my heart, this isn’t MY normalcy.
Dean shouts to Michael, the bouncer, to open the doors for the night.
“Let’s get this night over with then,” he says, placing his hand around my face and using his thumb to glide across my bottom lip. My breath hitches.
“Sounds like I have a date later.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The shift was uneventful. Drinks were flowing, and the patrons were dancing. It really is a cute little town. Everyone seems to know everyone, for the most part. The younger crowd parties here while the older crowd sits around at the bar, shooting pool up the road at The Roadhouse. I can see the appeal.
The bar closed about an hour ago, and we’re finishing up closing duties. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, but I don’t look at it right now. I’m too wrapped up in Nikki. I’m wiping down the tables when I pause, looking up at her counting the tips people left in the jugs for the night. She’s focused, mouthing the numbers silently to herself, so I make sure not to interrupther. Her hair falls in her face, and she brushes it behind her ear. The bar light is reflecting off her in a manner that makes her look like an angel. She’s beautiful. I know I need to tell her who I am before this gets any further, but I can’t right now. Not until I have more information on James and Sean. It's killing me. The longer I wait, and the more she becomes vulnerable with me, the more I know it will hurt her. Right now, I am no better than the pieces of shit who have hurt her in her life by lying to her, but I have to wait until I know more.
She looks up at me and smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s tired. I can see it. The nightmares, the stress, the fear she’s experiencing, it’s all hitting her. I hope I can help change some of that. She doesn’t believe she deserves to be loved. She feels like she’s too damaged to be good for anyone else. Well, we can be damaged together, then.
Once she’s finished counting the tips, she places each of our halves in envelopes. I’ve finished wiping the tables, the bar has been wiped, the trash has been taken out, and the dance floor is clean. It’s time for us to head out.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask her.
“Yeah. I think we’re good for the night. Do you want to follow me or ride with me? I can bring you back to your truck tomorrow if you want,” she tells me. As much as I’d love to take her up on that offer, I don’t want to risk leaving my truck here and someone breaking into it.
“I’ll follow you if that’s okay. Can’t risk something happening to my baby,” I say with a smile.
“Oh. So you’re one of those guys, huh?” she responds with a laugh.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I say to her, cocking an eyebrow.
“Oh, you know. Just one of those crazy-obsessed-with-their-car types.”
“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with a man appreciating his prized possession,” I say slyly.
“Uh-huh. Right. Well then, I guess we’d better get going.” She winks at me and grabs her bag with her keys.
I walk her to her car before heading to mine. Once she’s ready to go, she pulls out, and I follow behind her, taking the route I’ve taken a million times before.
We pull up to her house, both of us parking in her driveway. She’s out of her car before me and walking to her door when I suddenly hear her shout my name.
“DEAN!”
I slam my truck door closed and bolt down the sidewalk leading to her front door. Nikki stands there, back facing me, when she turns slowly. Fear is evident in her eyes as I take her in, suddenly noticing that she’s holding a manila folder.
“Let’s get inside, baby,” I say with urgency, wanting to ensure she’s protected from whatever may be lurking out here. I walk up to her quickly, placing my hand on her lower back and gently pushing her toward the door to unlock it.
When we’re inside, I turn and bolt the lock. Once Nikki is asleep, I’ll be able to check the cameras and see who dropped off the folder. For now, I just need to make sure she’s okay.
“Here, let me take that. Have a seat on the couch.”
She hands me the folder and does as I suggest. Once she’s seated, I pop the envelope open and slowly slide the photo out.
It’s a photo of the two of us at the bar earlier this afternoon, when I was holding onto her hands and asking her to tell me what was wrong. My blood boils, and rage threatens to take hold,but I take a few breaths, calming myself to not scare Nikki away when I’ve just started to gain her trust.
I look at her, and there is so much despair in her eyes. There’s a pang in my chest. I hate seeing her like this. I can tell she wants to know what’s in the photo, so I show her.
“I don’t understand. Why is someone doing this? Who could it be?” She starts tearing up, exhaustion and frustration all coming to a boiling point.
“Can I see the other photos?” I ask her. She doesn’t know that I’ve already seen them, and I don’t want to accidentally slip up with information.
She disappears into her room, walking back out seconds later with two manila envelopes in her hand. She hands them to me, and I make quick work of opening them. Holding all three photos in my hand, I tell her, “Well, based on the consistency in the location and the fact that we never notice anyone out of the ordinary, I would say that it has to be an employee.”
