Page 19

Chapter 19

Riley

I hated this. Fucking hated it.

Lying alone in that hotel bed, every raw, painful emotion bubbled to the surface.

It hadn’t bothered me all that much before this trip, but now, every time we fooled around and then he took off to sleep elsewhere… it messed with my head. It left me cold and all too aware of how alone I was.

I knew that Nolan wasn’t rejecting me specifically. There was something else going on in him—something that made him approach sex and intimacy like a minefield. Someone had done something to him that he didn’t want to talk about and apparently couldn’t escape. I understood that. I didn’t even think the problems he’d had tonight had to do with me; there was some other card, or maybe a whole hand of cards, that had been there since long before I entered the picture.

None of this had anything to do with me.

But it was still hard not to feel alone and rejected when he insisted on sleeping apart. Not just in different beds—in different rooms.

Jesus, Nolan. What did they do to you?

My own words drifted through my mind: ““I mean, is this like, a sibling or something you don’t get along with? Or like, ‘creepy uncle who shouldn’t be alone with the kids’ kind of thing?”

“Something like that.”

And Nolan wasn’t ready to tell me what exactly had happened or who’d done it. Maybe he never would be. Either way, I suspected it was why he didn’t like sharing a bed. That had nothing to do with me.

My empty bed and silent room, though, had everything to do with him.

My skin still burned faintly in all the places his stubbled jaw had scraped. My spine still tingled from that orgasm. My muscles still ached in that pleasant way they always did after a good roll in the hay and a bone-rattling release.

But the absence of his warm body against me and strong arms afterward felt wrong and miserable. I vacillated between feeling like he’d left me out in the cold, being seriously concerned about what he wasn’t telling me, and sometimes both at the same time. I was worried about him, and I resented him, and I felt guilty for my resentment, and I…

I was just a fucking mess for him.

Severing my relationship with my family was still an open wound, and I didn’t care if it made me pathetic—I needed Nolan. I needed someone to hold me, tell me I was worth more than a couple of orgasms, and make me believe I wasn’t completely fucking alone in this world. If that made me unmanly or whatever—I didn’t care.

It was also selfish. There was something keeping Nolan’s guard up—something dark enough I was afraid to know the details—and I’d be an asshole to ask him to disregard his boundaries for my benefit.

I wouldn’t ask him to do that. I wouldn’t make him compromise anything or hold me up when he was clearly trying to weather something he didn’t want to talk about. I knew on every level that it was way bigger than us or my post-sex ache for affection. I knew that.

But alone in this bed, while I still hurt for my family and needed human contact more than anything else, I could quietly let all those emotions run their courses.

I’d respect his boundaries. Respect that this wasn’t about me.

But the distance between us right now still hurt like hell.

Yet again, I’d mostly shaken off the funk the next morning. Some sleep helped. A shower this morning didn’t hurt. Stepping out into the hallway as Nolan did the same—well, that brought back some of the discomfort, but I ignored it as best I could.

Somewhere between last night and this morning, as I’d stared up at the windows while the heater hummed and someone’s TV filtered through the walls, I’d made a decision. I was going to be whatever Nolan needed for the rest of this trip. If that meant sleeping alone after sex, then… fine. He was in a tough spot right now for reasons he didn’t seem to want to explain, and I didn’t want to pile on him.

When we got back to Okinawa, though, it was time for some uncomfortable conversations.

But that could wait. Step one, get through the rest of this trip, and that started with a big family shindig at his parents’ house today. I’d meet his brothers, including the one who was getting married, as well as a lot of other relatives who either lived locally or had come in for the wedding.

And that probably included, I thought with a curdling stomach, whoever had hurt Nolan in the past.

Yeah, our shit could definitely wait until we got back to Japan.

First things first—breakfast. There was a small restaurant across the parking lot from the hotel. A local pancake house kind of place that had probably been here as long as the hotel had. They weren’t too crowded and the food was decent, though I struggled to eat.

Last night was weighing on me like a heavy meal sitting in the pit of my stomach. So was the prospect of being in the same room as Nolan’s abuser. Of him being in the same room with his creepy uncle or who-the-fuck-ever.

From the way Nolan picked at his steak and eggs, he wasn’t in a great place right now either. Maybe I needed to feel him out a bit before we went over to his parents’ place.

“So, um…” I nudged at the French toast I’d mostly lost interest in. “Today. With your family.”

He raised his eyebrows and studied me uneasily. “Mmhmm?”

“I, uh…” I put my fork down and sat back. “Is there anything I should know upfront?”

Nolan swallowed hard. “Such as?”

A surge of impatience made me want to snap “You know damn well what I’m asking about.” I suspected that was frustration and lack of sleep talking. Even after fourteen years of military-induced sleep deprivation, I could still get bitchy when I was tired.

“I asked before we left Oki if…” I hesitated, trying to choose my words carefully. “Something obviously happened when you were younger. I guess I’m wondering if the person who did it will be there.”

Nolan dropped his gaze and shifted in his seat. I thought he might’ve lost some color, too.

“You don’t have to tell me details,” I clarified. “You don’t have to tell me anything. But… is there someone I should watch out for? Maybe be extra careful to not let them be alone with you?”

The twitchiness was a dead giveaway. My stomach twisted the more I watched him getting visibly uncomfortable by this line of conversation. I wanted to say never mind and let the subject drop, but we were about to be in the thick of things with his family. I needed to know what we were up against.

“Like I said, it doesn’t have to be details. I just don’t want to accidentally leave you to fend for yourself with someone who… did things they shouldn’t have.”

Nolan shuddered. “I’ll be fine.”

I cocked a brow. “That’s not a ‘no, they won’t be there.’”

“No. It isn’t.” He started cutting into his steak again. He didn’t say anything more.

I fought the urge to sigh with frustration. “So they will be—”

“Let it go,” he snapped, and I jumped. He met my gaze, then exhaled and laid his utensils down. “Just… let it go. Please? Having you here will help a lot. But I don’t—it’s in the past. I want it to stay there.”

I gritted my teeth. He’d never so much as raised his voice to me, not even when he was annoyed by typical roommate stuff. This was obviously a touchy nerve for him, and I got that. But I didn’t like just pretending things hadn’t happened.

“I get it,” I said quietly. “But I don’t want to accidentally buddy-buddy up with whoever hurt you, you know?”

“I won’t hold it against you. You don’t know, and I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t want anyone to know. This”—he gestured at me—“is the farthest I’ve tipped my hand, and I don’t want to tip it any farther. Okay?”

Anger flared hot in my chest, but it wasn’t directed at him. How much had his abuser cowed him? Had they threatened him? Blackmailed him? Who did that to someone?

Too many, my experience as a cop said. Way, way too many.

Nolan must’ve seen more of my reaction than I’d intended to show, because he went on. “It’s not something I want anyone in my family to know about. Especially not now, right before my little brother’s wedding. It’s…” He picked up his fork and jabbed at his steak with it. “It’s not something I want anyone to know about.” The pointed look he shot me over the table added the unspoken, “Including you.”

“Okay.” I nodded sharply. “So what do you want me to do? I’m following your lead here.”

“Just be there,” he said. “You don’t have to be glued to my side or anything. Just… be there.”

I nodded again. “Okay. I can do that.”

What choice did I have?

There was a steady stream of people coming into Carol and John’s house, and I was introduced to all of them in turn. I hoped no one actually expected me to remember everyone’s names, though. I was terrible with that anyway—if my coworkers didn’t have name tapes on their uniforms, I’d be SOL. When it was a parade of strangers without name tapes? Yeah, I was fucked.

I was also on uncomfortably high alert, looking for tells that might give away what Nolan wasn’t willing to say out loud. He didn’t want me to know, and I wanted to respect that, but both the cop brain and the side of me that was fiercely protective of Nolan couldn’t help scrutinizing everyone. I wouldn’t out them because he didn’t want that, but maybe if I could clock whoever the “creepy uncle” was, I could help Nolan keep his distance. All those years of navigating my parents’ passive aggression about my sexuality had made me a pro at redirecting conversations, diverting people’s attention, and otherwise avoiding discomfort. I wasn’t sure how healthy that was, but if it helped me put space between Nolan and his abuser, then I wouldn’t look the gift horse in the mouth.

“I thought you were a Marine, kid!” Uncle Rick gestured at Nolan’s hair. “Letting it grow out on vacation?”

Nolan blushed and ran his hand through his hair, which had grown out a little since we’d left. “Eh, I don’t keep it as short as I used to anyway. The jarhead thing just wasn’t my style.”

“Pfft.” Rick scoffed. “Back when I was a Marine, it didn’t matter what your style was.”

“Oh, stop it, Rick.” Carol elbowed her brother. “You liked being shaved bald.”

“I did, but it wasn’t like they gave us a lot of options!” That was the start of a lengthy monologue about the modern military getting too soft, and he even went off on a tangent about how it was “ludicrous” that the armed forces were cracking down on sexual harassment. “I don’t know what these ladies expected when they enlisted.” He barked a laugh and smacked Nolan’s shoulder. “You don’t sign up to be a Marine because you don’t want to hear guys swearing and being crude.”

Nolan laughed, but he sounded vaguely uncomfortable.

Fortunately, right about then, Uncle Rick was distracted by another uncle’s Seattle Breakers T-shirt, and the conversation turned to hockey.

Nolan, quite obviously relieved, stepped away to the kitchen under the pretense of getting another Coke. I trailed after him, both because my own drink was empty and to get a bead on him.

I didn’t ask him outright if he was good; I didn’t want him getting defensive or thinking I was nosing around for information. Instead, I popped open a fresh Sprite and nodded back toward the living room. “So your uncle’s one of those old school Marines, huh?”

Nolan laughed. “Yeah. He thinks he’s God’s gift to badassery because he was active during the Gulf War.” He rolled his eyes as he brought his Coke can to his lips. “Settle down, Uncle Rick. You were a postal clerk at Camp Lejune.”

I snorted. “Seriously? But he thinks he’s a war hero or some shit?”

“Something like that.” Nolan chuckled, shaking his head. “He was always smug as hell to two of my cousins because they enlisted during peacetime, so they had it easy. Never mind one of them went to Bosnia, but…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Let me guess—he changed his tune after 9/11?”

Nolan pursed his lips, then wobbled his hand in the air. “When the wars started after that, he stopped with the ‘you’re just serving during peacetime, you pussies.’ Unfortunately, he replaced it with how we were probably going to go to those wars, then come back and act like we’d been in the jungles of Vietnam.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So he thought… we couldn’t be traumatized or whatever?”

“He’s…” Nolan sighed. “I don’t know. His whole identity is based on what a badass he was, and honestly, I think he was kind of butthurt when he realized he couldn’t hold ‘I served during an actual war’ over people’s heads anymore. So he just made up whatever shit he could think of. Like we were all fighting from farther away because of drones and long-range missiles instead of up close and personal like in Vietnam.”

I made a disgusted sound and took a swig of my soda just to rinse out the bitterness in my mouth. It didn’t help. “So what you’re saying is, I shouldn’t tell him about almost getting blown up on convoy duty?” My own comment thumped against a nerve I didn’t like acknowledging, but the reaction wasn’t too bad.

Nolan’s eyes widened. Then he shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Don’t tell him war stories unless you want to get one-upped or dismissed.” He looked toward the living room and shook his head, and when he spoke, he sounded like he was talking to himself more than me: “They say to pick your battles, and that’s not one I’d suggest picking.”

“Duly noted,” I said.

As we returned to the living room and wandered among other family members, I stole a few glances at Uncle Rick. He was animatedly explaining to everyone listening how they were wrong about how and why the Breakers were going to get eliminated from the playoffs, and people just nodded along, their eyes saying, “yeah, yeah, we get it, Uncle Rick.”

He pinged as obnoxious and self-absorbed, and I got the impression Nolan preferred him in very small doses. Nothing about their interactions said Uncle Rick was the creepy uncle, though.

And it didn’t necessarily have to be an uncle. Could’ve been a cousin. A family friend (there were a few of those here today).

Hell, it could’ve been a creepy aunt . I’d worked in law enforcement long enough to know women were just as capable of committing abuse as men.

Nothing about Nolan’s body language gave anything away with anyone, though. There were some relatives he clearly liked more than others—he laughed raucously with a couple of cousins, and he was cordial with another. He regarded one of his aunts like a stranger—friendly and polite, but not overly familiar—and then hugged another and smiled broadly while he talked with her. Just normal family stuff; close to some people, less so with others.

If the person who hurt him was here, he was keeping that card very close to his vest.

More people started arriving. Despite my struggle to keep names and faces straight, I was pretty sure I could be counted on to remember the key players, which were Nolan’s parents, brothers, and sisters-in-law. Or, well, I would if I could tell them apart, because apparently those Tyler family genetics were strong. Nolan wasn’t the only son who was the spitting image of John. The youngest of the three, Matt, had longer hair and a trimmed beard, but the resemblance was still uncanny. Same eyes, same build.

The eldest, Andrew, was the last to arrive, and he was a slightly heftier and grayer version of Nolan. They were similar enough that I was grateful for Nolan’s ink, not to mention the tan from living on Okinawa, to really distinguish them.

Andrew was also the only of the three who had kids. His daughter, Zoe, had the same brown hair and bright blue eyes as her dad, uncles, and grandfather. The boys, Charlie and Henry, seemed to take more from their mother’s side. Charlie was dark blond with blue eyes, and Henry was platinum blond. Their mom, Leann, was a tall blonde woman who’d clearly given Henry his hazel-bordering-on-green eyes.

After I’d been introduced to Andrew’s family, Leann turned to Nolan and spread her arms. “Gumby! It’s been forever!”

Nolan’s expression darkened. “Don’t call me that.”

She tsked and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Give me a hug.”

Though he seemed incredibly reluctant, he hugged her. As he let her go, he said, “Leann, this is Riley. My boyfriend.”

She turned to me, her expression unreadable, but then she shifted to a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” Elbowing Nolan, she added, “About time this one actually brought home a boyfriend.”

Nolan didn’t look amused. Then he gestured at the covered dish his brother was carrying. “Do you want me to take that in the kitchen?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Andrew handed it over. “Thanks, man.”

Nolan grunted in acknowledgement and disappeared with the dish without saying another word. I watched him go, and I was about to follow him when Andrew asked me, “So you’re military too?”

“Yeah. Navy.”

“Oh, I was going to ask if you guys work together, but apparently not.”

“I mean, the Navy and Marines do work together sometimes.” I smirked. “Don’t you know what ‘Marine’ stands for?”

Andrew and Leann both eyed me.

I grinned. “My ass rides in Navy equipment.”

Andrew snorted. “Oh, that’s even better than Uncle Sam’s misguided children.”

“Uh-huh.” Nolan materialized beside me again and elbowed me. “And doesn’t the Navy stand for ‘never again volunteer yourself’?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh. And yet some of us keep reenlisting.”

“Masochist,” he muttered.

“Shut up.” I bumped my shoulder against his.

Leann gave me a sour look I couldn’t quite read, then turned to her husband. “I’m going to go say hi to your parents.”

“Okay. Right behind you.” Andrew clapped Nolan’s shoulder. “Good to see you again for once. While you’re in town, we need to get together. Outside of…” He gestured around the room.

Nolan’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Sure. Let me know when.”

Andrew nodded sharply. To me, he said, “Good to meet, you Riley.”

“Likewise.”

Then he followed Leann into the more crowded living room.

I surreptitiously watched Nolan as he watched his brother and sister-in-law. When he shook himself and looked away, my stomach wound tighter. All my cop senses tingled, and I didn’t like what they were spelling out.

Nolan met my gaze, and his expression hardened. The “fucking drop it” in his eyes was plain as day.

Okay. Fine. But I was curious about something.

I tipped my head in the direction she’d gone. “Um, why does she call you Gumby?”

Nolan bristled. “It was a nickname I had in high school. When I was a wrestler.” He must’ve seen my confusion. “I was kind of known for being really flexible.” He laughed without a trace of humor. “Right up until I stretched too far the wrong way and messed up my back.”

“Ouch. Right. You mentioned that.” I made a face. “That sucks.”

“Eh. It is what it is.”

Uh-huh. Sure it was. I stole a glance at Leann, who was currently chatting with Carol and Sophia, the bride-to-be. Facing Nolan again, I asked, “Why does she still use that name?”

He glowered in her direction. “Because she knows it riles me up.”

“Oh.” I tongued the back of my teeth, debating how far to push this.

Nolan put up a hand. “Whatever you’re thinking—no.”

I blinked. “No, what?”

He rolled his eyes. “I know you. I know you’re trying to suss out who the problem is.” He gestured toward his sister-in-law. “She and I—we’ve never gotten along. And we never will. That doesn’t mean she was…” He trailed off, pressing his lips together.

“That has to suck,” I said. “Not getting along with your sister-in-law.”

Nolan laughed dryly. “You’re telling me. I didn’t like her in high school, and then when I found out she and my brother were engaged…” Another eyeroll. “Anyway, I should introduce you to my Aunt Judy and Uncle Charlie. Looks like they just got here.”

I recognized a subject change when I heard it, so I nodded and followed along.

And every time I caught a glimpse of Leann, my blood turned a little colder.

Though my job in military law enforcement didn’t involve as much investigative work as civilian police, we still learned the various techniques. We still learned how to interrogate suspects and pick up on clues.

And we still had it hammered into us, same as our civilian counterparts, not to stop investigating because we thought we had the answer.

Today, a couple of hours after I’d gone full mental judge and jury on Nolan’s sister-in-law, I was smacked upside the head with that teaching.

Throughout the afternoon, Nolan had mostly been relaxed, though there’d been a few people who’d obviously made him uncomfortable. Either he didn’t know them well, and his introverted self wasn’t sure how to interact with them, or they were clearly two people who didn’t get along but were putting on smiles for those around them. Again, nothing too unusual at a family gathering.

But then a family friend named Gordon arrived.

Gordon, I was informed, lived two driveways down from Nolan’s parents, and he had since long before the family had moved in. He was a scruffy white dude who seemed like one of those guys who’d been old all his life; like if I saw photos of him from back when Nolan was a kid, Gordon would still be white-haired, weathered, and scraggly.

Everyone greeted him with handshakes and tolerant smiles, as if they’d long ago made peace with his presence even though they’d rather he were someplace else. And as he made the rounds, three things about him made me forget all about Leann as a “suspect.”

One, how touchy-feely he was with everyone despite how obvious it was that nobody welcomed it.

Two, how the parents suddenly decided all the kids should go down to the rec room and check out the video games Matt and Andrew had brought. The kids who stayed in amongst the adults—the babies, toddlers, and those uninterested in video games—were never within ten feet of Gordon. The parents were incredibly slick about it, but they always managed to keep themselves and a fair amount of space between their kids and the neighbor.

And the third tipoff?

The very not subtle and not discreet way Nolan’s hackles went up when Gordon approached us.

“Nolan!” the old guy said with a grin. “Your daddy told me you were coming back to town! Where are you stationed now? Japan?”

“Okinawa,” Nolan said flatly. He nodded toward me. “We’re both stationed there.”

Gordon eyed me, and he seemed to be puzzling over who the fuck I was.

Nolan slid a hand over the small of my back. “This is Riley. My boyfriend.”

“Your—” Gordon’s bushy white eyebrows shot up on his lined forehead. “I didn’t think the services allowed that kind of thing.”

“They do.” I wrapped my arm around Nolan’s waist. “I think the Marines would be more upset that he’s dating a Sailor than a man.”

Nolan laughed.

Gordon… did not. He stood straighter than his weathered spine seemed to want to, and he squared his shoulders almost as if he were coming to attention. “So the military really has gone woke, eh?”

“Something like that,” Nolan gritted out.

The old man grunted. “Well, it’s good to see you home for once. I know your mom and dad are happy to have you here.”

Then he quickly bowed out and went looking for someone else to annoy.

As Nolan watched him go, eyes narrow, I genuinely expected to hear a low growl emerge from the back of his throat like a dog warning another to stay away.

I cautiously asked, “Not your favorite person?”

His laugh was caustic. “Not even a little.” Before I could think to ask any further, he gestured for me to follow him toward the stairs. “Come on. Let’s see if we can teach my brothers a thing or two about Call of Duty.”

I glanced at Gordon, who was irritating a couple of people whose names I didn’t remember. One had a toddler on her hip, and she kept her body turned just slightly to keep herself between Gordon and the kid.

Shaking my head, I followed Nolan down to the rec room.

Everyone can sense it. Everyone is uncomfortable.

Why the fuck is he here?