Not Quite Clear (A Lowcountry Mystery) (38 page)

“
Is
there a healthy amount?” I asked. I’d grown up watching my mother’s
string of jealous, drunk, loser assholes. It was possible my own perception of normalcy needed some tweaking.

“Sure. Most guys who are determined to keep a girl they’re crazy about have a natural instinct to protect their relationship. But it shouldn’t manifest as violence.”

I tried a teasing smile, but the worry churning in my gut made it hard to accomplish. “You’ve never kicked some guy’s
ass for hitting on your girl?”

He didn’t smile back, instead pressing his lips into a thin line. “No. The bottom line is she’s only my girl if she wants to be, and if she doesn’t anymore, then how is lashing out going to help?”

“You’re exceptionally mature.”

“Seriously, Jeyne. Be careful. I’ve seen… I do
not
like the sound of what’s going on with Dinah.”

“Okay, I will.” I took a sip of coffee
and stared at my laptop, determined not to let my roommate and her antics negatively affect my career. Also on the list of things that I couldn’t let distract me? Too many curiosities about Nathan. Like what he’d “seen” that he clearly didn’t want to bring up. “Right now I just want to make sure I’ve got this stuff down before the surgery tomorrow.”

“You know this stuff backward and forward,
but okay. Let’s do it.”

We studied for a couple of hours, then ordered a plate of French toast to share. When it arrived, we pushed our notes and laptops out of the way. The truth was that Nathan needed more help than I did when it came to this stuff and we both knew it, which was another reason he must’ve suspected my ulterior motives for spending time with him. What he hopefully didn’t suspect
was that I liked watching the way his muscles stretched the sleeves of his scrubs when he set his bag on the floor and how his washboard abs came into view when he stretched his arms above his head.

Nathan did not look like the other guys in our class of first-year residents—or the girls, for that matter. The rest of us were all pale and sickly and squinty-eyed after four years stuffed in college
libraries followed by four years in medical school. He was fit and often tanned and just…different.

The waitress, a skittish twentysomething named Kayleigh, set down the plate and asked us in her typical mumble if we needed anything else. She had dark hair that fell in tumbling waves past her shoulders, darting brown eyes, and an air about her that made me think she was running from the mob.
I had the feeling that posing a question about it would send her careening through the back door, leaving behind nothing but a Kayleigh-shaped hole in the cheap metal.

“I’m going to miss studying with you after this year’s up,” Nathan commented, drizzling blueberry syrup on three of the French toast triangles. He left the other three for me, and I doused them in regular maple. His eyes stayed
on our food, carefully avoiding my gaze, which was not typical.

After our first year, we got to choose a specialty, and I was the only resident who had been approved for cardio. Nathan had chosen general surgery. No one did that, but he claimed to want to be an expert at everything. And to always have a full schedule. The lack of focus didn’t fit with the rest of his personality.

“You’re still
sticking with general surgery, huh?”

“That’s the plan. I like to stay busy, and besides, this way I’ll get to hone my bedside manner. I think it needs work.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I replied around a mouthful of French toast. My cheeks heated until they felt like they might melt my teeth. If I could have disappeared into the table, I would have done it in a heartbeat because the way the words
had come out sounded so suggestive.

I was so endlessly hopeless when it came to men.

He stayed still until I managed to cool my face. When I looked up, the conflicted expression in his eyes confused me. The blue was a bright muddle of emotions with one in particular taking the lead—frustration. I thought he might bring up the elephant of my unrequited crush that hung about whatever room we were
in together, but he didn’t.
 

“I was actually thinking about joining the military,” he replied once the moment passed. “They need field surgeons, and I could learn trauma tricks to bring back.”

“You want to be a soldier?” I squinted at him and tipped my head, aiming for playfulness. My heart couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved that he’d changed the subject.

“Hell no. Not forever,
anyway.”

“Hmm.” I took another couple of bites, finishing up my half of the late-night breakfast.

“Do you have something against soldiers?”

The question seemed to have bite to it, like an accusation. But that was silly. Nathan didn’t know the way I’d grown up. Couldn’t know that my father had been killed in action, an event that had ruined my childhood and colored the next decade of my life
in one fell swoop.

“No, of course not. It’s just…surprising, that’s all. I thought you’d go into peds with the way you seem to love working with kids.” He was good with them, too. But peds was depressing, at least to me.

He gave me a thin smile and ignored the remark, eating the last of the French toast and shoving the plate toward the edge of the table. Kayleigh appeared and swiped it away,
dropping off a fresh pitcher of coffee at the same time. The girl was nothing if not efficient.

I didn’t understand the tension in the air but had an instinct to soothe it all the same. “Then again, the uniform would be good for picking up girls…”

At least I’d managed not to hit on him directly this time, and the joke eased the visible tightness in his shoulders. His ensuing grin pushed my tingles
lower. Nathan was handsome all the time, but it was blinding when he smiled. As though the sweetness and earnestness and
goodness
inside him was shining through his skin, just for a moment. Yet, a raw sexiness hummed around him, suggesting that perhaps he wasn’t into playing sweet and good in the bedroom. Not all the time, anyway.

My heart was racing and my palms were sweating just thinking about
him in a uniform, even if the thought of telling my mother I was dating an Army man made me want to hide.

“That’s true.” He tugged my notes toward him, flipping back several pages. “Okay. I’m going to quiz you one more time, and then we’re going home to get some sleep.”

If we went home together, sleep would not be a priority. Not if I had anything to say about it. My mind refused to vacate the
gutter tonight, and by the guarded expression on Nathan’s face, my brain’s current location wasn’t such a secret.

His cheeks turned pink and his lips parted, eyes locked on mine. In that moment, he looked about as lustful as I felt. Maybe it had been a while for him, too.

Nathan cleared his throat. “So, um, here goes.”

We focused on surgery techniques, case studies, and best practices for the
next hour, my brain finally cooperating. The routine, one we’d spent months perfecting, helped, but it was still after two a.m. when we packed our bags and paid Kayleigh, splitting the check. My eyelids drooped and my limbs felt heavy, signaling the need for sleep instead of the hanky-panky it had pined for earlier.

Nathan walked me to my car and waited while I shoved my bag inside and flicked
on the ignition. When I straightened up to say goodnight, he surprised me by leaning in and brushing warm lips across my cheek, lingering just long enough to make it more than friendly. My heart thudded, combining with the knifelike wind to bring me fully awake, and it took every ounce of control not to turn my mouth against his, slide my arms around his neck, and go for it.

But I’d never been
good at making the first move. Maybe jumping into bed with someone I had to see for hours on end for at least two more years wasn’t the best idea, anyway.

The mounting frustration in his gaze eased toward acceptance. “Please be careful going home. And if that guy is there with Dinah, stay away from him. Lock your door if you can.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as I’m making it sound.”

His full
lips pinched, whitening around the edges. “I have pretty good instincts about these things, Jeyne. And right now, they’re telling me it’s worse.”

3.

Dinah

Much to my dismay, no one ended up staying after the party died down. The older we got, the more people were willing to pull the designated driver stick for the night, and even though that was obviously a good thing, tonight it was like they all conspired to leave me alone with my living nightmare.

Even Jeyne hadn’t come home yet. Maybe I’d been wrong about Nathan after all.

Tritt had gotten good and skunked, and that had given me the slightest hope that he would pass out…until he and his loser friends had taken some kind of speed in the bathroom. He’d been running on overdrive ever since. We’d cleaned up most of the mess—or
I
had, while he’d sat playing
Mario Kart
in front of the Wii I’d bought for the exercise games.
 

I’d run out of tasks that could be used to
stall bedtime a little before two a.m. Exhaustion made my limbs heavy as I paused in the doorway to the living room, watching him for a moment. Tritt was so handsome. He’d stolen my heart on my fifteenth birthday when he’d left flowers in my locker and asked me to be his date for homecoming. He’d been a senior at the time, captain of the football team, the whole fucking cheesy nine yards. And he’d
wanted
me
.

He’d been crowned homecoming king less than three weeks later and took my virginity the same night. Looking back, I often wondered if I’d really given it freely, but he’d convinced me I had, even if the memory remained fuzzy around the edges. In those early days, Tritt could convince me of anything. My parents had loved him. Everyone had loved him. Hell, I’d loved him, too.

I’d thought
so, anyway.

“I’m tired, Tritt. I’m heading to bed.”

“Be there in a second.”

Maybe things would be normal
. He could have forgotten about the whole thing with what’s-his-name or the fact that I hadn’t announced my attached status in the first five seconds of meeting someone.

Could have, but hadn’t.

My fingers twitched, shaking again as I changed into shorts and a tank top, not bothering with
underwear. Tritt had ripped too many good pairs already.

The sight of his bulky frame in the doorway made me jump. “Oh. You scared me.”

The leer on his face said he’d meant to, but he made no reply. Instead, he used the bathroom and climbed into bed naked, beckoning me toward him after I’d brushed my teeth. Tritt didn’t stay over all that often. Even though he enjoyed reminding me that I belonged
to him, he had no such notions of loyalty where his junk was concerned. Not that I cared how many other girls he slept with as long as we used condoms. It might make me a horrible person, but I prayed every night that he would find someone else he enjoyed torturing more than me.

He pulled me onto his lap when I tried to sit on the mattress next to him. The darkness in his face tangled with the
manic snapping of his bright eyes shoved my throbbing heart into my throat. Fear landed in my stomach like a bowling ball made of snakes, and I struggled to breathe, to stay still. Fighting would only make it worse.

A heavy hand settled on my hip, squeezing hard. “You embarrassed me tonight, Dinah.”

“I…I’m sorry. I should have told that guy straight away that we’re together.” Humiliation burned,
but not as hot as my terror. I’d given up insisting things weren’t my fault, weren’t as he saw them, a long time ago. It didn’t do any good, but apologizing sometimes worked.

His right eye twitched. “You know better. You’re mine, Dinah. Forever.”

I nodded, wincing as his hand slid up under my tank top and squeezed my breast. His thumb and forefinger pinched my nipple, twisting so hard I couldn’t
help but cry out.

“These tits are mine.”

I bit my lip. He was acting crazier than usual, making me worry about what kind of drugs he’d taken when my back had been turned. He stopped abusing my boobs after the tears pooling in my eyes satisfied him. My body shuddered as he licked the salty tracks off my cheeks.

Tritt’s hand landed on my knee, sweeping upward until it slid under my shorts. He
thrust two rough fingers inside me. “This dry-ass pussy is mine.”

He twisted the fingers as though trying to turn me on—something else he’d given up years ago. “All of its mine, Dinah. I’m going to make sure you never forget it again, not for a second.”

With that, he lifted me into his arms, nuzzling my neck in the sweetest way. Then he threw me so hard I flew off the bed, my back slamming into
the wall. I landed in a heap on the floor.

My vision swam with spots of light, and black clouds rolled in from the periphery. The sound of Tritt’s footsteps smashing the carpet snapped me to attention, but not soon enough. His foot collided with my rib cage. Thick spiderwebs of pain cracked through my middle. I tried to scramble away, a sob tearing from my throat at the sharp stabs of agony that
accompanied movement. It made it hard to breathe, little shards of glass jabbing into my lungs.

The dark bedroom turned Tritt into a shadow of a monster as he leaned down and grabbed a fistful of my hair. I crawled with him for a few feet, trying to alleviate the pressure, but then he jerked me backward, smacking my head and shoulders into the wall. Stars exploded and I gagged on vomit, curling
into the fetal position. A full-length mirror that was propped in the corner fell down, shattering when it hit the footlocker at the base of my bed.

He kicked me again, so many times I lost count. All in my middle, where the bruises wouldn’t show. Sounds filled the room, like some kind of wounded animal on my friend Manda’s farm. Tritt paused in his attack long enough for me to realize the noises
were coming from me.

It had never been this bad. Usually rough sex, maybe a punch to the ribs or bite marks on my breasts, but tonight it felt calculated, as though he had more in mind. The realization scared me in a brand-new way, instinct screaming that if I didn’t get away from him I might not survive.