TENSE - Volume One (The TENSE Duet Book 1) Page 13

  I cradle it in my hands, my gaze sweeping over the back of the frame and a small white corner of something peeking out from behind the dark backing board. I tug on it carefully and more of it comes into view. It looks and feels like a piece of paper.

  With trembling hands, I curve my fingers around the small tabs that hold the backing board in place. I move each, being careful not to damage them. It's obvious that the frame itself is fragile. It's not expensive. I've seen a row of similar frames for sale in the drugstore for just a few dollars each.

  I tuck the fingernail of my index finger under the edge of the backing board to free it. It takes some pressure before it finally moves and a white paper spills out onto my lap.

  I stare at it, suddenly unsure if I should be looking at it. This isn't my business. It doesn't matter that I just had sex with Nicholas. This is obviously something that is private to him and I have no right touching it.

  "Sophia."

  My head snaps up when I hear his sleepy voice call for me. I listen carefully for footsteps but I hear absolutely nothing.

  "I was just getting a glass of water, " I call back as I try and shove the paper into the back of the frame, but my hands are shaking so violently that I can't tuck it all back into the small space behind the picture. "I'll be right there."

  "I'm coming to find you." His voice is louder.

  I stare down at the frame as I attempt to close the backing board but most of the white paper is still visible. I tug it back out, fist it in my hand and put the frame back together right before Nicholas rounds the corner from the hallway.

  ***

  "You're going to cook for me right now?" I duck my hand into my purse and drop the paper in its depths. "It's really late. I should head home."

  I don't actually want to go home. I want another chance to put that paper back in the photo frame where I found it. Guilt is eating at me from the inside out. It started as soon as he walked over to the chair I was sitting in and kissed me. It hasn't let up in the five minutes since.

  When he motioned for me to stand, I did. I kept my fist closed, hoping he wouldn't ask why. He didn’t bother. He only wanted to embrace me. I stood and let him take me in his arms, relaxing in the moment.

  "I'm hungry." He pats his firm bare stomach above the waistband of the gray sweatpants he's wearing as he stalks toward the kitchen. "Our dinner was good but it was hours ago. I could go for some pancakes."

  I could too but I have to work in a few hours and besides, I need to formulate a plan to get him out of the room long enough that I can cram that paper back into that frame. The only reason I dropped it in my purse was that I could sense how badly my palm was sweating from anxiety. If there's something sentimental written on that paper, I don't want the ink to run because of me.

  Turning my head I see him standing next to the stove, a wire whisk at the ready in his hand and a huge grin on his face. I cave because eating pancakes in the middle of the night with a shirtless Nicholas Wolf should be on every woman's bucket list. "I'll stay for pancakes."

  "Get over here and help me." He twirls the whisk in his hand. "I sense you're a better cook than I am."

  "I'm not," I concede as I close the distance between us. "Cadence tried to teach me how to cook but it was a waste of time. Not everyone is destined to be a great chef."

  I watch as he takes a carton of eggs and milk from the refrigerator before grabbing a few dry ingredients from his generously stocked pantry. "You're in charge of mixing, Sophia. Try not to fuck it up."

  I laugh when he hands me the whisk. "Don't you have an electric mixer?"

  With a serious expression on his face, he reaches over to squeeze my bicep through his shirt. "You've got the muscle power to do this by hand unless you don't think you have it in you to beat a few eggs."

  "I have it in me." I flex my arm even though it's hidden under the fabric of his shirt. "Give me those eggs and I'll beat the hell out of them."

  I jump when an unexpected loud buzzing noise fills the room.

  "What the …"

  "Shit. That was the intercom." Nicholas flicks on a light switch that bathes the living room in soft light. "My brother must be here."

  "Your brother?" I call after him as he sprints down the hallway, disappearing in his bedroom.

  I take a deep breath when I realize how I'm dressed. I can't meet a member of his family dressed in one of his shirt and panties. I start my own trek down the hall almost running right into Nicholas as he exits his bedroom in a hurry. "Where are you going? You're not leaving, Sophia."

  He's dressed in a T-shirt now, in addition to the gray sweatpants he was wearing earlier. On his feet are blue sneakers and a ball cap covers his head. "You're dressed. I need to get dressed too."

  "No," he murmurs as he kisses my forehead. "I'm going down to the lobby to talk to Sebastian. I'll get rid of him. Then we can get back to making pancakes."

  "Sebastian?" I repeat his name. I read a few small details about him online. He's the brother who followed in the footsteps of their father to become a NYPD detective. He's older than Nicholas by two years and judging by the picture I saw of him online, there's a definite family resemblance.

  A frown knits his brow. "I haven't told you about my brothers, have you?"

  "Not yet. You told me about your sister."

  I'm startled by another loud buzz from the intercom.

  "He's as impatient as fuck. He sometimes comes by after his shift to shoot the shit. I'll go down to the lobby and tell him to go to hell."

  I pat his shoulder, relieved that I'm going to have a few minutes alone to put that piece of paper back in the frame before he realizes it's missing. "I'll wait right here for you."

  "You better." He stares at me. "I don't want you to ever leave."

  My weak knees almost give out with the words but I stand tall and watch him walk toward the alarm panel. He disarms it with two button punches before he exits out the apartment door without turning back.

  I don't waste a second before I'm at the couch, my purse in hand. I fish through it, easily pulling the white paper out. I study the crumpled mess, my eyes focusing on several small red dots that pepper the surface.

  I take measured breaths, wanting to calm my racing heart. The debate is strong inside of me. I know I shouldn't open it, but the need to see what it is wins the battle over my better judgment.

  I unfold it carefully, each movement revealing more red dots; some small, others larger.

  Once I smooth my hands over it on my lap, I read the words written by a feminine hand.

  I can't wait to be your wife, Nick. I'll love you until my last breath. Briella. xx

  Briella.

  A beautiful name for a beautiful woman who loves the man I can't get enough of.

  I want to know who she is and why the note she wrote him looks like it's covered in specks of blood.

  Chapter 31

  Nicholas

  "Why are you dressed, Sophia?" I stop just inside the door of my apartment and arm the alarm. "I told you I didn't want you sneaking off."

  "I waited for you." She slides her coat over the blouse and skirt she's put back on. "It's not exactly sneaking if you wait."

  My throat works on a hard swallow. She's different. Something changed between the time I left to talk to my brother and now. It was no more than ten minutes, but Sophia went from being open and willing to be guarded. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

  She looks up at me, her eyes haunting. "I looked at the time. I have to be in the office early today because Mr. Foster has a conference call."

  "It's hours until daybreak." I press the pad of my thumb against her lower lip. It's pale now. She didn't take the time to apply any lipstick. She looks disheveled and beautiful. All I want is to take her back to my bed. "You can sleep here for a couple of hours and I'll make sure you're back at your place in time to go to work."

  Panic flashes across her expression as she steps back. "I need to prepare for that call. It's no
t as simple as dialing him into it. I have files I need to pull. Gabriel likes everything to be in its place when he arrives in the morning."

  It's bullshit. Something spooked her while I was gone. "What did you see, Sophia? Did you find something?"

  "Nothing," she spits out too quick, too eagerly.

  I trace a path around the room with my gaze trying to find something that could have caused her to retreat like this. "You saw something while I was gone. I want you to tell me what it was."

  With a muted curse, she shakes her head. "Are there things in here I shouldn't see?"

  Other than my next manuscript, there's nothing that I'd want to shield from her. I keep everything I treasure in my office. I have items stored there that I haven't looked at in years. Those are the things I have no intention of ever showing anyone. "I can't think of anything."

  Her eyes give her away. They dance between my face and the area near the piano. I turn to look in that direction. "What is it? Is it something over there?"

  "It's nothing." She tries to take a step around me, but I move to block her.

  "I don't play games." I look down and into her pale blue eyes. "You're running because something freaked you out. I want you to tell me what that is."

  "I said it's nothing," she hisses between clenched teeth.

  I pull her closer to me. "It's written all over your face. Spit it out. What the fuck happened after I went to the lobby?"

  "Nicholas," she says my name, exasperation marking her tone. "Have you ever been in love?"

  I don't have to turn back to the piano to know what she saw. It's the picture of Briella and I. Anyone looking at that picture could see what we shared. "Yes, I loved a woman once."

  "That woman?" Her hand flies in the air past my head. "Is that the woman you love?"

  I don't take comfort in the obvious pain in her tone. I know Sophia's falling for me. She's on the brink but I've already taken the leap. I'm crazy about her, every single part of her including this jealous streak I see now. "I loved her once. It was a very long time ago."

  "You don't love her now?"

  It's a simple question with an answer that is complex and complicated. I open my mouth to respond but the words aren't there. I've never said aloud that I don't love Briella. I haven't considered whether I still do or not. "It's not easy to explain, Sophia."

  "It is easy. Do you still love Briella?"

  Irritation mixes with anger inside of me. I try to level my voice but it's fucking useless. There's no way she would know Briella's name unless she pried that frame apart.

  "Fuck," I mutter under my breath as I turn and stalk toward the table. I hear Sophia's heels clicking on the hardwood behind me.

  "Nicholas," she says my name quietly. "I…I was just so…"

  I scoop the frame into my hand and turn it over. The normally visible corner of the paper isn't in view. She opened it. She read it. She put her hands on the one thing I haven't touched since that day.

  "You opened this." I wave the frame in the air in front of her face. "Did you open this? Did you fucking read the note, Sophia?"

  Her gaze follows the path of the frame. "I saw there was something in the frame. I wanted to see what it was."

  "You had no right." My heart races, my vision blurring. No one on this earth knows I have that note. They can't know. "What the hell were you thinking touching something so personal?"

  Her bottom lip quivers but she stills it with a bite from her top teeth. "I was curious. It's the only picture you have on display that isn't of your family."

  She's right. I don't have dozens of photographs of friends. There isn’t one picture from any of my book signings in my place. I like things simple and for me that includes reminders of the people who matter the most to me; my siblings, my mother and Briella.

  "You didn't think to ask?" I clutch the frame to my chest. "Why didn't you just ask me who she is? Why touch things that don't belong to you?"

  She shifts, inching more to the side. "I think I should go."

  I reach forward to grab her arm to halt her in place, but she sidesteps me. "You're not leaving. You need to answer my question."

  "I didn't think you'd tell me the truth."

  "I'm not a liar."

  "I didn't say you were." She tilts her head and studies my face. "I asked you earlier if you love her still, and you didn't answer. You're not a liar, Nicholas. You're an avoider."

  It's nothing but a stall tactic. She wants to get out of here without telling me why the hell she thought it was okay to take this frame apart. "Why did you read the note? Answer me, Sophia."

  A single tear falls onto her cheek. "I don't want you to break my heart."

  Fuck. Fuck this beautiful woman.

  I toss the frame onto the chair and pull her into my chest. I cradle the back of her head as I feather kisses over her cheeks. "I'm not going to break your heart. I want in it, Sophia. I want in your heart and I want you in mine."

  "What about her?" I watch her index finger rise in the air as she points at the frame. "What about Briella?"

  I close my eyes and swallow back the rush of emotions that flood me. "Briella died, Sophia. Her father killed her."

  Chapter 32

  Sophia

  Death isn't something I've had a lot of experience with. I still have every single one of my grandparents, I've never lost a friend and because of my mom's severe allergies to pet dander, we never got to have a dog or a cat when I was growing up.

  For me, death is restricted to the hour of television I watch with Cadence each week where someone is murdered and our favorite duo of police detectives crack the case with time to spare for the prosecution to present its case and get a conviction.

  I stare up and into the face of the man I know I'm falling in love with. I knew it before I took that frame apart and saw the love letter written to him by another woman. I knew it earlier tonight when we were sharing a dinner and laughing about how great it would be if I started the next fashion trend.

  "I don't talk about her anymore." His hands cup my cheeks as he speaks softly. "She died when I was in college. It's been a long time."

  A long time is subjective when a heart is involved. He couldn't tell me if he loves her still because a part of him does. I can see that in his face but I see something else there too and all of that is directed at me.

  "Her father killed her?" I ask because I'm still trying to process that. My dad cherishes me. He might not be happy about the fact that I'm living on my own in New York City, but I know he'd do anything in his power to protect me.

  He caresses my upper arms through my coat. "He shot Briella's entire family. There was only one survivor. Her sister pulled through."

  "Is he in jail? Did her dad go to prison?"

  Letting out a deep breath he looks down at the frame before he responds. "The bastard shot himself last. Thankfully he didn't survive."

  It's a tragedy of epic proportions. I want more details. I want to understand how he found out and why the note Briella wrote to him is covered in a spray of something that looks like blood. I bite my tongue though because now isn't the time to ask about details that don't matter anymore. He lost someone he loved in a horribly violent way.

  "Can we go back to bed, Nicholas? I just want us to hold each other until I have to leave."

  He nods his head slowly. "I want that. I want you, Sophia."

  ***

  "You're talking about the Vanderwelle family, Soph." Cadence butters a slice of toast. "I remember when that happened. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas. The entire Northeast was in mourning over that."

  I wouldn't know. I was living in Florida eight years ago when it happened. I didn't pay any attention to the news. I don't know a lot of sixteen-year-old kids that do. Apparently, Cadence is one of them.

  "Our school had a fundraiser." She chews on a small bite of her omelet. "One of the daughters survived and a woman who lived near the family set up a collection for her hospital bills and reco
very. We sold pins in the shape of small hearts. We raised a lot of money for her."

  Life intersects in the most unexpected of ways sometimes. "I can't imagine what that girl went through."

  "I met her last year." She takes a sip from the glass of milk she ordered. "She came into Nova with her husband. I recognized her from the pictures in the paper and then when she introduced herself, I knew it was her. Lilly Parker is her name."

  "Lilly Parker?" I ask, after sampling the scrambled eggs I ordered. I'd texted Cadence to meet me here for my brunch break. After I hopped in a taxi after kissing Nicholas goodbye I went straight to work. I changed into the dress I keep in my locker there and after a quick brush of my hair, I was sitting at my desk, ready to get to work when Mr. Foster came in at seven.

  It's near ten now and since the conference call went off without a hitch, I asked if I could take lunch early. He agreed and even offered me an extra hour since he was in such a good mood.

  "That's what I said." Cadence hits the bottom of the mustard bottle on the table, aiming it at her toast.

  "Are you going to put mustard on your toast?" I scrunch my nose.

  "Firi likes that," she says it without breaking a smile. "He has unusual taste."

  I shake off the thought of what that tastes like and instead circle back to Lilly. "I worked with Lilly when I was at Hughes Enterprises."

  I'm instantly struck with the image of the petite redhead who runs the tech department at the company I worked for when I first came to New York. We didn't interact very often because I was an assistant to one of the other executives, but she was friendly and helpful. I had no idea that she'd lived through such a personal hell.

  "I don't know her beyond a few words when she came to Nova, but she seems grounded. I don't know how I'd survive losing my entire family in one night. I don't think anyone can ever get over that."

  I don't either. It's a horrific experience like that would be branded into someone's memory forever. Both Lilly and Nicholas lost people they loved that night. That has to create a bond that is as unbreakable as it is unique.