Nikki's POV
I always thought I would know if something bad happened to Jacen. I was sure I’d feel it, inside. Like in the movies. Surely a love like ours, one that transcended all else, would entail some sort of spiritual connection. But fate kept me in the dark, for it was crueler to us than most.
The day started out as mundane as any. It was a Saturday; laundry day in the Davenport house. I’d spent most of the morning ironing and folding without a care. I checked my phone at regular intervals, waiting for Jacen to text me about our plans for the day. The text never came, and I never suspected.
“Are you doing homework?” I asked of my younger brother as I arrived at the foot of the steps, in the midst of my third load of laundry. Basket propped against my hip I had entered the kitchen to find Joey at the rickety table, having carved himself a little pocket in the clutter. He’d shoved aside old magazines and dirty dishes to make way for a notebook that he was scribbling in diligently.
“Of course not,” he replied, rolling his dark eyes. “I’m not you.”
I snorted in response, like I was the only person who did homework, as I placed the basket down atop the washer in our closet of a laundry room. I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest to regard the sophomore boy in spongebob pajama pants. “Then what are you doing?”
“Practicing my autograph,” he said airily, gesturing grandly with his ballpoint pen.
“You’re kidding right?” I asked the obvious question as I crouched down and began loading up the washer.
“Not even a little bit,” he said, unabashed, “I’m the sibling of a celebrity. I have connections now. I’m like that girl whose sister married the prince.”
“Pieper Middleton?” I asked. I’d never been that into pop culture, even now that I was a part of it, and as such was only aware of those people who were insanely famous. Sylvia had always been obsessed with the royal family though, and had religiously followed the details of the Prince’s wedding.
“No, no, not a Disney character – I’m talking about a real person,” he said dismissively, tossing a crumpled ball of paper my way.
“She is a real person, dumbass,” I informed him as I rose to my feet, laughing. Shaking my head at the dusty linoleum floor, I made my way into the kitchen and began inspecting the cabinets. “What do you and Alex want for lunch? Mac and cheese?”
“Nah, we had that Thursday,” Joey said. I knew Alex would have a different opinion, but he was too busy playing with his dinosaurs in the living room. Colorful cartons danced on the TV in front of him but he paid them no mind.
“Well I don’t know what to tell you,” I replied to the eldest of my brothers, “I have to go food shopping later cause all we have is-,” I cut off as my phone blared in the pouch of the thin, salmon colored hoodie I wore in lieu of a pajama shirt.
Assuming it to be Jacen on the other end, I immediately pulled it out and pressed it to my ear, a smile plastered all over my face.
“Nikki?” Odette’s crisp voice cracked through the phone instead.
“Oh, hey Odette,” I replied easily, tilting my head to support my cell against my shoulder while I rummaged through my cabinets. “I was just about to call. Jacen still sleeping?”
“Nikki,” she said again, her voice hollow, like wind blowing through an empty tunnel. I felt my stomach drop through the floor. “Something’s happened.”
“What?” I asked, freezing with my hands on the handle of the drawer before me. I couldn’t have moved them if I wanted to. “What happened? Is it Jacen?”
There was a pause. Only seconds could’ve passed, but it felt like years, lifetimes, eons. “He’s missing.”
My blood froze like ice in my veins, my limbs going cold. “What do you mean missing?” I could feel Joey’s eyes burning into me; his pen had stopped scribbling.
“They found his bike,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Totaled off the side of his road.”
I felt like I was falling, down, down, down into terrible nothing. The world was slipping out from underneath me; everything falling apart. My everything. Jacen.
The phone slipped, crashing to the floor. The ancient thing took the hit like a champion; the screen still glowing up at me from the white floor. I stared at it in numb horror as the seconds ticked by on the timer. Each one seemed to reverberate through my head like a pulsing headache.
“Nikki?” Odette’s voice rattled faintly through the speaker. “Nikki are you still there? You have to come over now.”
My head snapped up to meet the eyes of my brother. He was frozen at the table, his skin greenish, his eyes resolute. “What are you still doing here?” he demanded, his voice thick with apprehension that shocked me. I’d always thought he hated Jacen. “Go!”
My body launched into action. I didn’t waste time responding. I snatched my keys off the counter and bolted for the door. The dogs snarled at me and I gave them no thought, nearly tearing the door off the hinges in my haste.
“You could’ve put on a jacket first!” Joey’s voice followed after me, “Or at least some damn shoes!” I didn’t turn back. Slamming the door behind me I ran out into the elements. The driveway was icy with the sleeting rain we’d gotten last night; the snow, shoved up against the curbs, was slushy and dripping.
Feet burning from the ice, I ran across the driveway without a second thought. Cold whipped at my bare skin as I sprinted to the minivan but I didn’t care. I tore the door open and was off without even waiting for the engine to warm up. It had to be thirty degrees in there, but it meant nothing to me. In a world without Jacen, nothing meant anything to me.
I drove like a mad woman, and I regretted none of it. I was speeding, I was blowing stop signs, breaking laws left and right. I still didn’t care. The world was giving me hell, and I deserved to give some back.
I made it to Jacen’s mansion in ten minutes flat. The gates out front were wide open; not a good sign. Inside, where a rotary of pavement looped a large, dry fountain, dozens of cars were parked. Standard black and white cop cars, non-descript Lincolns, and black vans marked with the letters FBI. I felt sick.
I skidded to a stop behind one, and yanked my keys out mere seconds before jumping out of the car. I moved at a dead run, my destination the door. I had to get inside, had to get to Jacen. Surely I was missing something, surely there had been a mistake. I would open those doors and there would be Jacen, smiling, and he would say that it had all been a misunderstanding.
The feeling in my stomach said otherwise though.
I sprinted up the marble steps of the porch, my bare feet slipping on the icy surface. I caught myself on the railing before my face could hit the pavement, and pushed onward. Grand doors met me at the top, and I shoved them out of my way.
Inside, there was no Jacen. Just cops and agents buzzing around like mosquitos trapped in a jar. Their voices came together in a rattling hum that scraped at my eardrums like a cheese grader. I watched, in irrational horror, as they all stomped around in their clunky shoes, leaving muddy prints on Jacen's imported rugs. For some reason, it seemed like a big deal, and sheer willpower alone kept me from saying something. I had more important things to deal with.
I forced myself to focus, to scan the crowd. My mind parted them like shrubbery to reveal the true picture; Odette, sitting on the couch on the opposite side of the room. She didn’t even look like herself. No heels, no power suit, no cellphone. Just a woman in grey sweats and a pale blue pajama top, her hair down, serving as a straggly black curtain that hid her puffy red eyes. Curled up at her feet was Rajah, whimpering brokenly.
“Odette!” I called, running to her without a second thought. Odette would know what to do, Odette would fix everything. But looking at her, at the tears streaking her cheeks, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Nikki,” she said, looking up at me as I reached her, nearly falling into her as I tried to stop myself. The cops that hovered nearby were eyeing me, but I paid them no mind. “You look awful. Where are your shoes? You must be freezing.”
“I don’t care about me,” I said resolutely, “What happened to Jacen?”
Her eyes began to cloud up with tears and she patted them with a delicate tissue. “He never came home last night,” she said pitifully, “They found his bike totaled by the lake – it rolled down the cliff, nearly into the water.”
“We started combing the water for a body,” one cop, a man with a salt and pepper beard but nothing on top of his head, added, “But we didn't find anything.”
“Oh my God,” I choked on the words, feeling the world spin all around me. I felt like I was going to pass out. Jacen couldn’t be dead. No. I would’ve known. I would’ve felt it. If Jacen had died, my heart would have broken clean in too. But it was still intact – still beating.
“Breathe,” came the voice of the female agent there, a slender woman, probably in her thirties with a neat blonde ponytail. She placed a hand, pale with square, unpainted nails, on my shoulder. “Just breathe. We didn’t find anything because someone pulled him out of the water.”
The words were like a knife, opening up a vein of relief inside me. My heart pumped painfully, but I didn't mind, because at least it was beating, if not for me then for Jacen.
Suddenly my lungs accepted the air they’d previously rejected and I took a breath, just as the woman instructed. I tried for another one; it burned in my throat. “How do you know?”
“We interviewed a man who lives in a cabin nearby,” she informed me kindly. She had blue eyes, and I felt my heart clench. “He heard the accident, saw Jacen fall into the water. He pulled him out, says Jacen was unconscious, but breathing.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead, the whole world was spinning like a dreidel. “Wait – what?” I demanded, “If someone saved him – where is he?”
“That’s what we don’t know,” the woman said, “The gentleman we talked to – he says that a woman in a van showed up, saying she was going to take him to the hospital.” There was a long pause as every pair of eyes trained suddenly on me. The officers, Odette, even Rajah. They were all looking at me with accusation in their eyes. “The woman . . . she said she was Jacen’s girlfriend.”
I had thought I had reached my breaking point. Surely, nothing could shock me after waking up to find out my boyfriend was missing, possibly dead, possibly abducted . . .And then I found out I was a suspect.
“You – you’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, laughing like Niro may have laughed while Rome burned and he fiddled. “You’ve got be fucking kidding me!” The room continued to bustle around me, but everyone’s eyes flickered to me. “You think I did this!? I drove here without putting on a jacket – without putting on shoes. I would’ve run here, crawled on my belly over broken glass, if that’s what it took. I love Jacen – probably more than any of you have ever loved anything - and you think I did this!?”
The lady cop put her hand on my shoulder again and I brushed her off wildly, like a hassled animal. Equally feral and frightened. “Nicolette,” she said gently as I pulled away from her, “Nobody thinks you are responsible. We just want to talk to you.”
“Then talk,” I growled, “Talk ‘til your lips fall off. I’m going to find Jacen.”
“Wait,” she insisted, catching me at the wrist. My eyes trailed from her pale fingers up her arm, all the way to her eyes. In that moment, I hated a complete stranger. “If you won’t do it for me, do it for Jacen. You may be his only chance.”
I felt my heart clench so tightly I thought I might die. Tears stung at my eyes, but I pushed them down. She knew just what to say. “Fine,” I snapped, “But make it fast.”
“Let’s do it in private,” she suggested, pressing a hand against my numb back, leading me towards the dining room. The bald cop followed, closing the oak doors behind us as the lady cop sat me down at the head of the table. I thought about the time I had sat at this very table with Jacen – the night I formally met Odette – and wanted to cry.
“Now Nicolette,” the female cop said in a gentle tone. “My name is Agent Stout, and this is Agent Bernard. We’re here from the FBI and we have reason to believe that Jacen’s disappearance is linked to the other ones in the area.”
I had thought that the immediate police presence was because Jacen was a celebrity, and maybe that had been a factor, but then I realized that he wasn’t the only person to go missing in Glenview. “But those were all girls,” I said stupidly.
“Yes,” Agent Stout said, “But they all had connections to Jacen. It seems he is the final piece to the puzzle. We were never able to find a link between the girls – until now.” She paused, pulling out several files from her briefcase, placing them before me. I didn’t have the will to even glance at them. “Sylvia Moore – went missing back in September. She was your co-worker, correct?”
“Correct,” I said, throat feeling tight.
“And she was there the day you met Jacen, is that correct also?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, closing my eyes for a long second. This couldn’t be happening, I thought to myself. It couldn’t be.
“Demi Lovick,” Agent Stout went on, sliding out the next file. I still didn’t look. “She was arrested on drug charges in early October – on the same night as Jacen Sage. The reports say they shared a squad car on the way to the station.” She pulled out the next file. I tried not to look, but I still saw a flash of bright blonde hair and sparkling teeth. “Monica Winters. She’s the most obvious connection, as Jacen’s co-star and longtime friend.” She paused and took out another file. I glanced, despite myself, and saw the first unfamiliar face. “The only one we can’t link to Jacen is this girl right here; Lauren Mathers.”
My mind flickered back to a few weeks ago, when I’d been watching the news. “She worked at Starbucks right?” I asked. “Which one?”
Agent Stout took a second to examine her file. “The one in the Continental Plaza.”
I had been there, just last night with Rosalyn. “That’s right across from where I work,” I realized aloud, “Jacen used to go there all the time – not for coffee though. He loves mocha.” Talking about him made me feel sick, like someone was pulling my heart apart from within; slowly, and loving every second of it.
Agent Stout had begun flipping through her notes frantically; the bald Agent Bernard hovering over her. “I can’t believe we missed that!” she exclaimed, looking up at me, “That’s it then. All the girls link back to Jacen.”
“Wait – you don’t think he had anything to do with this?” I demanded, my already frazzled mind starting to panic all over again. They could accuse me day and night, lock me up if they wanted. But I would not stand there and let them slander Jacen’s good name. “Because he would never -,”
“Nicolette, as of now, Jacen is considered solely a victim,” Agent Stout assured me, “Because of his highly structured and public lifestyle, he has known alibis for each of the abductions. His innocence is not being challenged, but we do believe that he has been the unsub’s main target from the start.”
I watched enough TV to know what unsub meant, but I was still having difficulty believing that this was actually happening. “You think someone abducted Jacen?” I asked, “Why would someone do that?”
“Ms. Davenport,” interrupted the gruff voice of Agent Bernard as he came forward, his chubby hands leaving sweaty smudges against the polished wood of the table as he leaned in close. His breath smelled like marinara sauce and hot garbage. “Where were you between the hours of ten P.M and one A.M. last night?”
“I was with Rosalyn,” I said immediately, “Rosalyn Summers.” They both seemed thoroughly surprised by this. “Why the wide eyes? Let me guess, she’s a suspect too? Well sorry to ruin your crazy girlfriend theory, but neither of us had anything to do with this.”
Agent Stout wrote this down in her report while Agent Bernard just regarded me suspiciously from beneath his bushy brows. “And she’ll confirm this?” he asked skeptically.
“Yes, and so will the people at Starbucks,” I snapped, “Because we there until nearly two.”
Agent Bernard looked disappointed. “Is that so?”
“Yes that is fucking so,” I snarled, launching to my feet. “So instead of wasting your time harassing me why don’t you go out there and find Jacen.” My hands, pressed firmly against the table, clenched into fists as I stared down the man. He had to be twice my size, but he might as well been an insect under my gaze.
“Now listen here young lady,” he insisted, standing up straighter. It did little for his appearance.
“No you listen here,” I shouted, “The man I love is out there – at the hands of some psycho and you’re sitting around on your ass! So why don’t you go and find who did this!” The dark look I gave then was reflected back through the gilded mirror on the opposite wall. It didn’t even look like me. Damp hair framing the pale oval of my face – my eyes burning like golden flames; I looked murderous. I’d never thought myself capable of such darkness, but right then, I was sure I was capable of even more. “Because I’m telling you now, if I find them first . . . I swear to God I’ll kill them.”
Agent Bernard looked dumbstruck, as opposed to how he looked earlier, which was just dumb. “Bernard,” Agent Stout said evenly. “Perhaps you should step out and let me handle this.”
Agent Bernard said nothing, only glared at me rather pathetically, before leaving with a childish slam of the door. “Your partners a douchebag,” I informed Agent Stout. “If he wasn’t a federal agent, I’d have kicked him in the balls.”
“And if he wasn’t a federal agent,” she said, giving a small smile, “I’d say he deserved it.” Her smile fell away, but the kind look in her eyes remained. “Look Nicolette, I know you had nothing to do with this. You’re in no danger. You have an alibi.”
“How many times do I have to tell you people?” I demanded, “I don’t care about me. I care about Jacen.”
“I can see you do,” she said solemnly, reaching across the table to place her hand atop mine. I met her eyes, blue like the sky in the middle of the afternoon. Not like Jacen’s – his eyes were blue enough to make the skies jealous of such majestic, unachievable perfection. “And I swear to you Nicolette, we’re going to do everything in our power to get him back to you.”
The blood in my veins felt cold, the skin on my bones prickled with goose bumps. In an instant, my life had changed. In an instant, I had changed. The world had suddenly shifted into stifling clarity. I’d always believed that in the end, fate would set things right, but I realized then, that I had to set things right. Just like fate had changed me, I was going to change my fate.
“And so,” I said the words with more conviction than I had ever felt in my whole life. “Will I.”