Page 57 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I need a plan
Helix
I have a million cuts all over my body. Not literal cuts but they hurt all the same. Each one of Nicolette’s tears sliced ribbons from my soul.
The number of times I’ve driven by her home the past couple days would probably get me put in jail or a mental health facility.
You are hurting me by being here right now, Helix.
Those words she spoke to me are the only thing holding me back from marching up to her door, kidnapping her, and running away to some remote island where no one knows us.
I’m more convinced than ever that Nicolette had nothing to do with the theft and betrayal. Even with all the signs pointing her way, I know in my bones that she’s innocent. The utter shock and devastation on her face made that perfectly clear.
I also know I screwed up by doubting her for even a second, and that all comes down to my trust issues stemming from my fucked up past. Not that I’m using that as an excuse because there is no excuse for doubting her and making her feel the way I did.
And now I’ve lost her.
When I pull into the garage of my house and see Phoenix’s car in the bay next to where I park my SUV, I’m not sure if I’m glad or annoyed that he’s here. Walking inside, I see him on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, and something relaxes inside me, though I gripe at him anyway.
“Do you have to put your stinky feet on my furniture?”
“I washed them this morning,” he replies, wiggling his toes before jerking his head toward the seat next to him. “Sit.”
“You’re awfully bossy for someone who doesn’t live here,” I grump, though I fall onto the couch beside him and take off my shoes.
When I prop my feet up beside his, he bumps me with his pinky toe. “My feet are prettier than yours.”
“We’re identical twins. Our feet are literally the same.” This inane banter distracts me a little bit. Phoenix is good at that.
We sit for a long while looking at our feet like a couple idiots before my brother speaks. “You drove by her place again?”
“Yeah.”
“Anything new?”
“Nope. The light in her dining room is still on.”
“She probably just forgot to turn it off.”
“Nicolette always turns off lights when she leaves the room. She must be in there.”
I feel Phoenix’s eyes on the side of my face. “Does it make you feel better knowing where she is in the house?”
With a shrug, I say, “Maybe a little.” We’re quiet for another moment before I add, “Thanks for not judging me.”
“You’re going through enough without my judgment. You’re being pretty hard on yourself.”
“Rightly so. I was a dick. The police detective said they took her down to the station yesterday.” My eyeballs throb, and my voice goes thick. “They had her in the fucking police station like a criminal. She must have been scared.”
“I’m sure she handled herself well. Nicolette is a smart lady. She’s probably more scared of losing her job and being blacklisted from the industry.”
“Thanks,” I say with flat sarcasm. “I hadn’t even thought of that.” Not more than fifty times anyway.
“Did the detective say anything?”
“Just that she refused to answer anything without an attorney present.”
“See? She’s smart.”
“I’m going to hire her a lawyer.”
Phoenix releases what I recognize as his oh for fuck’s sake sigh. “No. You’re not. She’s being investigated for a crime against our family’s company. It would be a conflict of interest for you to hire an attorney for her.” He pats my hand. “But I can recommend someone for her.”
I turn my head to look at my brother. “Sometimes I forget you’re a lawyer.”
He rolls his eyes. “Appreciate that, bro. Makes those seven years I spent in college totally worth it.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I just don’t see you doing lawyer shit very often. Who is the best in Houston? Actually, who’s the best in the state?”
Phoenix thinks for a minute. “If it were me, I’d pick Lina Davidson. She eats opposing counsel for lunch. She was a year ahead of me in law school, and she was top of her class.”
“That’s who I want.”
My twin shakes his head. “You know it’s not your decision, right? Has Nicolette even answered any of your texts?”
“No,” I grumble. “She hasn’t even read them.”
“Probably has you blocked.”
“You’re not helping,” I snap before softening my tone. “Would you text her and give her Lina’s name?”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea since I’m also employed by the company, but I could get Mom to pass along the name.”
I frown. “I was really hoping to not tell Mom about this. She adores Nic.”
“She does,” he agrees. “Mom is going to kick your ass.”
Rolling my head to the left, I give him my best glare. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Actually, no. I just dropped off Reecie at Perri’s new place for a sheepover, so I’m free.”
“A… sheep over?”
“Yep, it’s like a sleepover, but they wear sheep pajamas and eat sheep, which is really just cotton candy with raisins for eyes.”
A small smile tests itself on my lips for a brief second. “That’s cute.”
Phoenix stands and ruffles a hand through my dirty hair. “If you promise to take a shower, I’ll come stay with you tonight. We can have our own sheepover. What color cotton candy do you want?”
I’m touched by the gesture, but I don’t want to be around anyone right now, not even my twin. I simply want to sit in the dark and be miserable, like I deserve.
“Thanks, brother, but I don’t feel like having company tonight.”
“Just want to wallow in wretchedness and your own rancid smell?”
I sniff an armpit. “I’m not that bad.”
“You’re not that good either. Go shower. With soap.”
I’m a little ashamed to be a grown man whose brother has to tell him how to shower like I’m a seven-year-old boy, so as soon as he leaves, I go upstairs and take a shower. With soap.
When I’m done, I have to admit I feel better, on the outside anyway.
After dressing in a pair of black-and-white athletic shorts, I go to my study and check my emails, finding one from an address I don’t recognize, but it makes my face break into a genuine smile for the first time since Friday.
The domain name is one I’ve never heard of, but I know this is Nicolette by the username portion: TheSleepySangriaQueen.
I’ve never clicked on an email so quickly in my life. My chest deflates when I see the words typed in the body of the e-mail.
Fuck you, Dr. Hale.
Did she make up a whole new email just to insult me? She could have done that by text, or better yet, in person. I’d even let her punch me or kick me. Whatever, as long as I could be near her.
That’s when I see there’s an MP4 attachment. Without a second thought, I click on it, and after a few seconds I recognize it as the corridor outside my office. Checking the date and time stamp, I see it’s from Wednesday evening, the night the formula was allegedly stolen.
Is this the raw, unlooped footage from that night? Did Nicolette hack into our security system today to prove she didn’t hack into the system on Wednesday?
I can’t help but laugh. She’s got some fucking balls on her.
Fast-forwarding to around eleven, I see the fly do his thing, so I slow the video, and it doesn’t take long before a lone figure enters the frame. I’m so shocked to see an actual person, I suck in a sharp breath and hold it.
The person is dressed in black from head to toe, including a black ball cap with the hood of a sweatshirt pulled up over it. The intruder is walking toward me, and based on their gait and body, appears to be a woman.
Though I was already convinced it wasn’t Nicolette, I let out my breath and do a fist pump when I see it’s definitely not her.
This woman is very petite and at least a few inches shorter.
The camera is at a high angle, and the intruder keeps her head down so her face isn’t visible as she uses a handheld device to unlock the door to my office.
I lose sight of her when she goes inside, but when she returns seven minutes later, she’s stuffing the envelope beneath her sweatshirt. The hood slips a little, revealing a flash of blonde hair, but she covers it quickly as she jogs toward the exit at the end of the hallway.
After watching the moments around the theft three more times, I send the video to the detective in charge of the case. The security company has been working to recover this piece of the puzzle, but my brilliant woman took care of it her damn self, and I’m so proud of her.
Then I hit reply on the email and tap out a quick note.
Nicolette,
I know you didn’t do any of this. Deep down inside, I knew before I even watched the footage. My trust in you is strong, and I apologize I let that slip for even a second.
I love you, my queenie, and I know I betrayed you and hurt you, but I will spend my life making it better. Please talk to me and let me apologize in person. I’m under no assumption that you’ll ever take me back, but you deserve to hear me say the words out loud to you. I have a lot to explain.
All my love,
Helix
P.S. I sent the video to the detective. This should be enough to completely exonerate you with the police.
But when I hit send , it bounces back as undeliverable.
Trying again, I get the same response. An undeniable itch starts beneath my skin, a sensation I don’t think I could scratch with a thousand fingernails. No, this particular itch can only be relieved one way…
With the truth.