Finding Nora
The Searchers, book 1.5
By Ripley Proserpina
Finding Nora
The Searchers, book 1.5
© 2016 Ripley Proserpina
Published by After Glows Publishing
PO Box 224
Middleburg, Fl. 32050
Digital ISBN: 978-1-944060-37-4
Cover art by: Leanne Louise with Bound 2 Books
Formatting by: AG Formatting
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
AfterGlowsPublishing.com
Finding Nora
Cleared by the police of any wrongdoing in a school shooting, Nora’s finally looking to her future with hope. She and her five guys are ready to move on with their lives, and take their unconventional relationship to the next level.
But not everyone is ready to accept her innocence. Viewed as a monster by the people in her small town, and put in a frightening position by the people claiming to help her, Nora has to make a choice between what she wants, and what she believes is best for the men she loves.
Will her budding relationship be strong enough to survive these new challenges, or will it all be too much, and she’ll be alone again?
One
Dream
NORA SAT UP in bed, gasping for breath, and pressed her palms against her eyes as if she could force the images from her nightmare out of her head.
In her dream, she perched on the edge of a windowsill, leaning back and looking at the perfect, clear, blue sky. She hummed to herself, while rocking from side to side. She arched back farther, and farther. If she let go, the air would cushion her.
Only it didn’t catch her. Her stomach dropped and she shut her eyes tight. Wake up, wake up, wake up. Her arms pinwheeled, hands grasping, but there was nothing to hold. The ground rushed toward her face, the strength of the air whipping past her body, forcing her eyes open as she watched her inevitable end come closer and closer.
“Nora!”
Her boyfriend, Ryan Valore, turned on the lamp next to the bed. She shut her eyes against the sudden brightness. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against his t-shirt clad chest and kissed the top of her head.
“You’re awake,” he whispered. “I’m here. We’re okay.”
Her body shuddered as she sucked in air.
“Okay?” He pulled back a little, trying to look down at her.
Nodding, she rubbed her eyes. “I was dreaming about the girl I saw fall from the window today.”
“I’m so sorry, Nore.” He rubbed her back in slow, hypnotizing circles. Closing her eyes, she swayed in time with each stroke of his hand. It was hot in the room, and her shirt stuck to her sweaty skin. As if he could read her mind, he lifted it, sliding beneath the cotton, his hand cool on her bare skin.
Instead of calming her racing heart, his touch sped it up. A ghost of sensation tickled her temple and she leaned into his lips, loving the way he brushed them back and forth against her skin.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered, kissing her again before following the curve of her face and jaw.
No. When his lips came close to hers, she turned and captured them. His tongue dipped inside her mouth and she was lost: her nightmare forgotten.
Kissing him took all her concentration, all her focus. He stroked her tongue slowly, sucking gently to pull it into his mouth. Each caress he gave, she returned with her own. Body shifting, he pressed against her, and she let herself be forced against the pillows. His hands stayed at her lower back, touching her skin, but he was careful to avoid her still-healing wounds.
Don’t think about them.
Pulling the t-shirt out and away from her body, he gently lifted it over the gauze on her stomach, sides and head. The way he looked at her left her squirming on the bed.
“Are you okay,” he asked again. His dark gaze roamed her body, pausing for a split-second on her injury.
The last thing she wanted was a clinical observation. “I don’t want to think about what happened.” She grasped his face between her hands. “I only want to think about you.”
“Nora.” He sat back, effectively caging her in with his knees and arms.
Trailing her fingers up and down his arms, she traced the muscles standing out as he held himself over her. His skin was too tempting, and she lifted herself up, pressing her bare breasts against his chest. Her nipples pebbled at the rasp of his skin against hers, but she accidentally pulled at the wound in her side, and gasped.
“Mood killer.” She gave him a small guilty smile.
“Sit up, let me look at you.”
Light filled the room, and he shifted, closely examining her wounds. Her side pulsed and ached, a tangible reminder of the thing she wanted to forget: she’d been shot.
A little over three weeks before, Nora’d been substitute teaching at a high school when a man carrying a gun entered the cafeteria and killed five people.
Pop, pop, pop. The sound of gunfire, a rapid succession of blasts, echoed in her mind. Shutting her eyes tight, she turned her head away from Ryan so he wouldn’t see her expression.
Her fingers curled into the sheets as she forced herself not to touch her wounds. She was hit as well, and had later learned her almost- killer, the one shot dead by police, was her foster brother, Reid.
Lesson number one: the police didn’t believe in coincidences.
They went after her, leaning on her like she’d pulled the trigger. She hadn’t. Her crime was to live, and to know Reid. For a while, her guilt overwhelmed her, and she’d been lost in it.
She’d tried to help the students escape after she realized the cafeteria where they were couldn’t be secured. Her decision may have helped most of the students make it out alive.
Lesson number two: it didn’t matter who she saved, because escape wasn’t school protocol.
The police were more suspicious of her than before. Detective Vance, the lead detective investigating the shooting, believed Reid was motivated to kill by something she’d said, or done. He even released her name to the press in an attempt to make her confess.
Lesson number three: murder suspects were newsworthy, but unemployable.
She lost it all: her job, her apartment, most of her belongings.
But she found Ryan. He was the law student intern who accompanied her Legal Aid lawyer to the hospital, and since the moment they met, her life had changed.
She couldn’t help nuzzling his shoulder as he lifted the bandages and checked each healing wound on her side.
“I think we can probably leave these off.” His face was relieved at the evidence of her recovery.
A quick, muted knock at the door startled them and he sighed, kissing her head. “I think they heard us.”
She grabbed her t-shirt and wrestled it over her head before calling out, “Come in!”
The door opened and Apollo Morris, six foot two, and 225 pounds of love and muscle appeared. He
closed the door behind him, walking swiftly to the bed, eyes on her side. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Zinged it,” she whispered.
He let out a long sigh, and glanced at Ryan. She could see how torn he was; he didn’t want to leave her, but he wanted to give her time with his friend.
Mentally, she cleared her throat, a little embarrassed.
Lesson number four: she was capable of falling for more than one guy.
Ryan stole her heart first, but then so did his friend, Apollo.
Followed by Matisse, Seok, and Cai.
She had fallen in love with five guys, who for some reason, all wanted her, too.
Her appearance in their lives came with all the quiet of a nuclear explosion. She intruded into everything. Her presence messed with their firmly established friendship and the life they set up in Seok’s house. Without meaning to, she’d divided them.
Ryan, protector and caretaker, was her advocate from the moment he met her. Apollo was a giant love, a marshmallow in a fighter’s body, who took one look at her, and went about healing her wounded spirit. He was the first to kiss her, the first to push her to recognize she was capable of feeling more than survivor’s guilt.
She fell for Matisse next. He was there when a reporter cornered her, and flung the details of her past, her life in foster care and with her biological mother, at her like knives. He hid his heart behind his joking and devil-may-care attitude, but he’d shown it to her, and she loved it.
Cai and Seok were on the other side of the divide, and the memory of their first exchange made her shudder. They’d never shown anything but disdain for her. Not knowing how, she’d won them over. When they told her how they’d grown to care for her, she was shocked.
This relationship was new to them. Only tonight had the guys put their feelings on the table, presenting her with what they wanted.
They stunned her. All five guys (two of whom she’d thought hated her) refused to ignore their feelings for her.
Trust them, they’d begged. Trust them to be honest. Trust them to know what they wanted: they wanted her.
Until these guys, she didn’t believe she’d fall in love, and she certainly never let herself believe she deserved their love, or growing love, or potential love.
But here they were.
Apollo brought her back to the present. His fingers gently pulled the bandages away from her skin. “I think they need some air,” he said in a confident tone.
Ryan huffed.
“He told me the same thing.” She wanted to give him credit.
“Let me get some ointment.” Apollo grinned. A dimple appeared in his cheek, but before she could respond, he snuck out of the room and down the hall.
“Everything okay?”
Everyone was awake. The other guys waited by the door. Cai, looking disheveled, crossed his arms, and leaned against the door jam. Seok Jheon, who’d recently dyed his hair a bright, royal blue, held onto the doorknob, stepping inside. His eyes traveled along her exposed skin, noting the sheet pushed to the end of the bed.
“Move,” Apollo interrupted, playfully nudging them out of the way.
It was the excuse they needed to come into the bedroom, perching on Ryan’s desk, on the end of the bed, any place there was a spot close to her.
Matisse lingered in the hallway.
“I’m okay,” she reassured him. “Pulled at the stitches.”
Narrowing his eyes, he walked inside, his lanky frame graceful. He tipped her head toward him, dropping a kiss on her lips. “Need anything?’
Her eyes closed, and when she opened them, she met his full-out smug and self-satisfied grin.
Her face heated and he chuckled. “You’re welcome,” he husked.
She laughed, and then winced. “Ouch.”
“Move it,” Apollo told him. “Your armpit is over my head. Gross.” Sweeping the last of the ointment over the graze, he nudged Matisse out of the way with his elbow. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I don’t trust myself to stop after one,” he whispered.
She sighed, and then Cai was there, holding her face in his hands and pressing a firm kiss against her mouth. “Goodnight, Nora.” His eyes flicked toward Ryan before he followed Apollo into the darkened hallway.
Leaning from his perch at the end of the bed, Seok swept her hair back from her face. He kissed to the side of her lips, first the left, then the right, and the tip of her nose. “No more nightmares.” His voice was low and commanding, and she nodded, like she had control over her dreams.
“Bon soir, chère,” Matisse whispered when Seok left. He lingered near her lips.
“Okay, Matisse,” Ryan reminded. “It’s my night.”
“Sorry, friend.” There was no apology in his voice, but he left them.
Easing his arm around her shoulder, Ryan urged her to lie back in the cradle of his chest. “Shirt,” he directed and she gave up tugging it over the ointment. Lifting it over her head, he tossed it to the end of the bed and dragged the sheet over their bodies. “No more nightmares, Nore.” He kissed her temple. “Not while I’m here.”
She sighed, snuggling into him. Exhaustion overtook her, and she fell asleep, safe, happy, and nightmare-free.
two
First Morning
NORA WOKE UP before Ryan. He was perfectly still. The boy didn’t snore, he didn’t toss and turn, and when he slept, he looked beautiful. One touch of her hand to her head proved her hair was wild.
Rubbing her face, she winced when her fingers touched a sore spot on her chin. She pressed against it, realizing what it was. No. She could not have a zit when she was faced with perfect/sleeping/angel/prince/model man.
Getting out of bed as quickly and as silently as she could, she crept out of the room. She opened and closed the door to the bedroom, careful to latch it closed quietly.
“Morning.”
She yelped, holding her hand over her mouth as she turned.
“I’ve been up ages, waiting for you.” Apollo smiled at her, moving to kiss her, but drawing back when she left her hand over her mouth.
“What’s the matter?”
Slowly, she withdrew her hand from her face. Would he zoom in on what was probably the largest zit ever known?
He didn’t even glance down. Holding her gaze, he pressed his mouth against hers. He made a little sound of happiness, and she giggled. With Apollo, she forgot about everything except being happy.
“I need to run to the bathroom,” she said when he pulled away.
He made a grand sweeping gesture. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Want a smoothie?”
“Without the green stuff, please.”
“The green stuff is good for you. You won’t even notice it.” Ignoring her narrowed eyes, he smiled. “Trust me.”
She sighed, not bothering to hide the grin tugging at her lips. “Okay.”
“Hurry up.” Bouncing on his toes, he made a motion toward the bathroom.
“Okay, okay.”
As she closed the bathroom door, his footsteps pounded downstairs. She flicked on the light and lifted herself up onto the bathroom counter so she could examine her face. The mass she was sure was her zit was only a tiny red spot near the bottom of her chin. Relieved, she ran her fingers over it. It still hurt, but it wasn’t as humungous she expected. The day could go on now; she didn’t have to hide in the shadows, hissing at anyone who tried to bring her into the sunlight.
She snickered at the image, but then bit her lip as the previous day’s events and last night’s nightmare flooded her.
How could she care about a zit when she’d seen a girl die the day before?
She’d thrown herself out of the fifth story window at Brownington College’s psychology building. A stranger, someone Nora'd just met in the stairwell after leaving Dr. Daniel Murray’s office, she’d begged for help.
One look at the frantic, helpless girl a
nd Nora’d agreed. Her goal was to hustle her out of the building and find a police officer, but the guys found them before she could.
They’d been searching for her. Hurrying toward them, they frightened the already-skittish girl, and though Nora tried to get her to stay, she’d run off. Moments later, she’d forced herself out a window and let go, tumbling to the ground.
Dabbing at her face with the hand towel, Nora sighed.
How hopeless did someone have to feel to end their life so dramatically?
Placing the towel back on the sink, she paused. Apollo would be waiting for her in the kitchen. There was nothing for her to do, no way she could fix what happened. All she could do was move on.
For a moment she stood quietly, and then she flicked off the light.
No one else seemed to be awake. She walked past each bedroom door, listening for movement inside, but it was quiet.
When she came into the kitchen, Apollo beamed so widely it pushed everything else out of her mind. He handed her a blender bottle with a pink shake. After examining it for tell-tale green bits, she took a tentative sip, looking over the rim at him. His eyes crinkled the way they did when he was smiling as he watched for her reaction.
Of course it was delicious.
“Thank you,” she said after swallowing.
His gaze moved to her lips, and stayed there. Moving fast, he reached out, grabbing her shake and dropping it on the counter.
Then he fixed his lips to hers.
He kissed her like he was starved for contact, groaning against her mouth. In the past, he’d always been so gentle with her, so careful. This kiss was not careful. This was the kiss of a man who hadn’t been sure he’d ever touch her again.
She reached for his head, wanting to keep him tucked into her. His hair was shorn short at the nape of his neck, his close-cropped, tightly spiraled curls a little bit longer at the top. Reaching up as far as she could, she ran her fingers over the top of his head and then back down to his neck.
Finding Nora Page 1