Page 21 of Nocturnes & Nightmares

“Triple, if I can occupy the space in the next hour.”

Jesus Christ. Triple would let me take Christmas week off work—something I haven’t done since Oliver was a baby.

“I can’t. At this point, I’d just be taking advantage of you.”

“I guilt-tripped you into renting your apartment to me, so I guess that makes us even.”

I scratch the back of my head again, trying not to let the lure of money talk me into something stupid, but the lure of money is definitely talking me into something stupid. “Right. So … um. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Everyone calls me Voss.”

“Well, what does the DMV call you, because I need to run a quick background check before we do this.”

“Rhett Voss.”

Rhett Voss sounds like something out of a romance novel. “Are you from here originally, Voss?”

“New York. Star Wars.”

My eye twitches at that, and I roll my shoulders, tugging the hem one more time. Of course he’s from New York. Fancy city to match his fancy suit and his fancy car. And here I’m standing in jeans, with no shoes, and an eleven year-old’s Star Wars shirt. “Can you come back in about a half hour?”

“Sure. Only if you promise to answer the door.”

“Of course.”

Instead, the guy waits in his car—a fancy black Audi parked at the curb, which I’ll have to inform him is jack-bait in this neighborhood. Not that this part of the city is all that bad, but his car doesn’t scream drug dealer, it screams stock trader, so it’s basically fair game around here.

I call Jonah, who has one of his buddies run the guy’s name and plates.

Turns out, he actually is from New York. Actually, a stock trader. And, more surprising than all of that, doesn’t have a criminal history whatsoever. In fact, his record is as polished as the goddamn paint job on that car.

“Are you sure, Jonah?” I ask, staring down at all my notes. “Not even a speeding ticket, parking ticket, nothing?”

“Squeaky clean, according to Tanner.”

Which means I have no reason not to trust this guy. Damn it. The lure is growing stronger by the minute.

“How’s Oliver?”

“Great! He and Diane went out for some takeout sushi for his last night here.”

“Awesome. He used to love sushi.” Sometimes, I wonder what Oli would turn out like if I just let him live with my brother and his wife, instead of his spending so much time by himself. I wonder if living with me is going to fuck him up for the rest of his life. Turn him into one of those kids who guns down his classmates, because no one knew how lonely he was. “Thanks for taking him, Jonah. You guys are the best.”

“Ah, this is all Diane’s doing. She’s been planning this weekend for weeks now.”

Well, that’s a relief. It’s somewhat comforting to know the things that were once just everyday life for Jonah and me take weeks to plan for someone else. “Okay, I guess I need to tell this guy he’s good to move in.”

“Don’t feel like you have to do this … letting some stranger into the home. You have choices, Nola. Diane and I are—”

“Nope. I’m not going to keep relying on someone else for everything. I want to do this. I need things to loosen up around here, and … maybe it’ll be good to have a guy around Oliver again.”

“You don’t have to recruit some Wall Street Wolf to do that. I’m happy to take him up to dad’s cabin sometime.”

“You’re busy, Jonah. And soon you’re going to have your own child.”

“Maybe so. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you and Oliver.”

“I know. I’m going to let you go, okay? This guy’s been sitting in his car, waiting for an answer. I don’t want to be the one who mars his squeaky clean record with his first kill.”