Chapter 6: Traumatized

The school yard was nearly empty when Chyler finally came back downstairs. The air had gone cold, the kind of cold that seeped through the toughest jackets, with intention.

She stood near the entrance platform, hands in her slacks. Her gaze followed the stretcher disappearing into the back of an ambulance with Jason Wyler's body zipped up like a secret no one was ready to tell. Behind that zipper was not just a corpse. It was also a hundred questions.

Beside her, Brye leaned against the wall, arms crossed and lips pursed. "Okay, I'm officially over this," he said, breaking the silence. "We came here for awkward hugs for you and new shiny opportunities for me to get wild, not a murder mystery. I did not wear this vintage jacket just to be traumatized. Can we go home?"

Chyler didn't respond. Brye tilted his head. "Uh-oh, I know that look."

"What look?" she asked without turning.

"The 'cop Chyler' look that says 'I'm about to dive headfirst into a mess even though my badge is sitting in a drawer collecting dust'."

She let out a slow breath. "Something is not right. "

"You don't say," Brye responded, his voice climbing a sarcastic octave. "Dead hunk in a pool, rich weirdos acting shady, a party of your blue pals cruising the grounds of a high school." Totally normal Saturday."

Chyler finally looked at him, her lips twitching.

"Be real, Chy. You are not going to let this go, are you?" She didn't answer. "Of course, why am I even asking," he chuckled. "You are allergic to leaving things alone, even breaking rules that could land you in jail."

"I should be out there, Brye. This is what I do. Finding answers to questions no one is going to ask. I can't just sit around and wait."

"Fine," Brye sighed after a while. "But if this ends with me having to testify in court wearing these shoes, I'm suing everybody."

★★★

The ride home was quiet, aside from Brye humming under his breath to fill the silence. He kept glancing at her as she drove, as if waiting for her to say something she was supposed to. Just before they reached Chyler's house, he finally broke the silence.

"Question..." he dragged the word out to get her attention but Chyler kept staring ahead. "Is your jaw tensing like that about dead guy or is it more about that emotionally complicated kiss with a legally unavailable woman?"

Chyler turned sharply, her face growing pale from surprise. "What?" she stuttered.

"Girl, your face was telling a tragic novella I did not subscribe to, when you came down from that rooftop after Barbie Channing and her huz. Regret or identity crisis?"

Chyler shook her head, her grip tightening on the wheel. All she could manage was a long hard sigh as she drove up to the driveway to the garage. She switched off the car and leaned back into the seat. Brye leaned forward.

"Is this act two of your inner soap opera?"

"Fuck if I got a clue," Chyler said in frustration. "It felt like a good idea in the moment but now I feel like I just emotionally drunk-texted the universe."

Brye smirked. "I want to tell you that this is karma for all those years you judged me for catching feelings after a second date, but I won't." Chyler gave him a look of disbelief and Brye laughed. "Okay, tell me if her lips were actually worth the chaos."

"So worth it. Oh God! What did I do?" Chyler groaned.

"Come on girl. Let's get you in a tub, with face mask and at least three glasses of Pinot."

"You mean, let's get you in a tub?" Chyler batted an eyebrow.

"Of course, babe. I've had enough gore for a lifetime and my soul needs some soothing."

"Drama queen," Chyler chuckled, shaking her head.

★★★

Across town in the soft glow of their luxury hotel suite, Capri unlocked the door in silence and stepped in. Not even the sweet healing scent of vanilla, or expensive and beautiful marble counters and floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the beautiful city could wear off the weight of the night.

Caden followed, pulling at his tie and dumping it across the room.

"Well, that was a disaster," he said lightly, as if they had just left a bad movie. Capri didn't respond. He stepped behind her arms around her waist, lips to her neck. "Luckily, I know just how to forger it."

"I'm not interested," she pulled away, not even looking at him.

He blinked, confused. "Excuse me?"

"I said no," she said more firmly.

He chuckled, quick and forced. "Wow. First time for everything, huh?" Capri walked across the room, finding something to change into. "What's going on with you? Why are you suddenly like this?"

"I found a body, Caden!" Capri snapped. "A man I have known since we were fourteen was dead and I found him. I needed you and you weren't there!"

"I told you, I had a business call. Why are you angry at me?"

"It's always an excuse with you. A business call after another. Never available, never anything but busy."

"What the fuck, Capri!" Caden exclaimed, his hands hanging open. "These are the people who fund our lives. Was I supposed to just ignore them?"

"How convenient." She threw on a night gown then got into bed, pulling the covers over her up to her neck, then took out her phone.

Caden scoffed. "Really? After everything I've been doing for you—"

"No," she cut in firmly. "Everything you have done for your image. For appearances. For you!"

He stared at her, his chest heaving. She put the phone away and pulled the covers over her head.

"You can't seriously be doing this?"

"Goodnight, Caden."

He stood there a while longer, shirt half open, his chest heaving and jaw tightening in anger. She could feel him, almost hear his hard breaths but she didn't stir.

"Fine! I'm going to the bar downstairs."

"Do whatever you want. It is what you always do anyway."

He paused for a moment, like he expected her to stop him. When she didn't, he grabbed his phone, slipped on his blazer and walked out. The soft click of the door closing him was louder than any slam, making her aware of how alone she was.

She lifted the covers off her face, staring into the emptiness. The quiet pressed in from all sides. She curled up beneath the sheets, the silky fabric cold against her skin. But the cold wasn't from the bedding. It was something deeper.

Her mind refused to rest. Images looped behind her closed eyes. Jason's lifeless face, blood seeping into the water, Caden's smug arrogance.... but deeper than them all, the moment at the rooftop with Chyler. The kiss. Chyler's eyes. Her voice. Her arms around her, comforting her...

Capri pulled a pillow closer, gripping it like it might anchor her. She wasn't supposed to be thinking about her. But she was. God help her, but she was. And in her thoughts, it wasn't just about the kiss. She wanted her, just like she had wanted her all those years ago.

So, why wasn't she in her bed?