Bearer of Bad News: The Nicki Sosebee Stories, #12

By Jade C. Jamison

For once, the bearer of bad news isn't the reporter.

 

When Nicki loses someone close to her, she realizes that her investigative reporting is endangering not only herself but those she loves. Now she is forced to choose between walking away, just as many of her closest allies have urged her to do—or digging deeper to find the truth.

When Nicki notices she's regularly being followed, she knows her next move could be her last. How can she protect herself when she doesn't know who she can trust anymore?

PLEASE NOTE: This book was previously published in 2019 as WAKE UP.

 

The Nicki Sosebee Stories are an interconnected series and should be read in order for maximum spoiler-free enjoyment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jade C. Jamison
• Release date: Nov 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201148409

Jade C. Jamison

1. Imagine 2. Play some music 3. Write 4. Blow readers away 5. RepeatJade C. Jamison is a steamy romance author, heavy metal fangirl, wife and mom, coffee connoisseur, cat lover, and vegan foodie--not necessarily in that order. She loves life and believes we learn our wisest lessons when reading, especially if it's fiction. Her heroines are fierce, her heroes all but broken, both seeking redemption together. Whether in a small Colorado town or big city, she strives to take her readers' breath away...one story at a time.Find out more at www.jadecjamison.com ORhttp://www.subscribepage.com/JadeCJamison (newsletter)

Book preview

Chapter 1

Nicki Sosebee was drifting off to sleep in the warmth of her almost-boyfriend’s arms. As he’d managed many times before, he’d brought her to perfect climax, and those chemicals flowing through her body and brain made it all but impossible to stay awake.

And almost boyfriend? Who was she kidding? The almost part was mere formality; they just hadn’t made it official again.

He brushed his hand along her ribcage, causing her to shiver and squirm. You’re not going to sleep, are you?

"Aren’t you?"

Sean Ramsey kissed the back of Nicki’s neck, sending another shiver through her body. There’s something we need to talk about.

The words, not the tone, caused her eyes to pop open and she rolled over to face him. And his face took her breath away—beautiful clear blue eyes framed by long lashes, his dark blond hair growing a little long once again, his pearly whites, facial hair to die for.

While she would have kissed him, her curiosity stopped her. What?

He ran a tattooed finger across her forehead to brush her hair aside before looking in her eyes. What are the chances you’d consider getting back together for real, Nicki? A lump formed in her throat, and all she could do was bat her eyelashes. You don’t have to move back in if you don’t want to, but… Hating to even ask, she tried to force her tongue to move, but the words wouldn’t spill out. Fortunately, Sean continued reading her mind. I’ve gone twelve days without a drink.

Nicki felt a smile forming on the corners of her lips. "Twelve whole days?" Considering the man had been drinking at least half a six pack a day since high school, Nicki was impressed.

Not a single drink, babe.

I’m so proud of you. She stroked his stubbly cheek. Shit. I hope that doesn’t sound as condescending to you as it did to me.

I get it.

Maybe we should.

Get back together?

Yeah. Nicki kissed the tip of his nose. Let’s sleep on it.

Sounds like a plan.

Let’s see how we feel over coffee tomorrow morning. Pursing her lips together, she let the smile completely overtake her face, because she knew damn good and well her answer would be yes—and then they could begin the rest of their lives together.

I’m sorry, babe, but I can’t. How about lunch instead?

"Lunch?"

Yeah, I’ve got some shit I gotta get done.

"Right now? Turning her head backward, she glanced at the tiny clock on the nightstand with the red LED display. But it’s almost midnight."

I know. But I promised the Wickeds I’d hang for a while.

He was leaving her warm arms for bikers?

His grin made any irritation she might have felt wash away. Bringing his face close to hers, he buried her in a sensual kiss that made her want to straddle him, trapping him in an eternal embrace. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?

She faked a frown. Okay, fine.

I love you, Nicki Sosebee.

I love you, too, Sean Ramsey.

She watched him as he dressed, finishing by pulling on his heavy leather jacket off the doorknob. Walking back to the bed, he sat on the edge and looked down at her with dreamy eyes again. Goddamn. She had to admit there was something very bad ass about her boyfriend, the way he looked in jeans, black leather jacket, and combat boots, and it made her heart beat harder every time she gazed upon him.

If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. Was it because she wanted to wait till tomorrow to make it official?

Sleep tight, babe.

Don’t stay up too late, crazy man.

I won’t. Before standing, he gave her one last soul-gripping kiss. The thud of his boots walking across the floor comforted her somehow. Want me to turn the light off?

Sure. And, as the door began to close in the darkness, she asked a fateful question. You sure you don’t want to spend the night?

I wish I could, babe…

I know. Talk to you tomorrow.

Yeah.

Click. Surprisingly enough, Nicki drifted off almost before she heard the motor of Sean’s Harley fading in the distance—but she could see him riding in her dreams.

When Nicki awoke the next morning, it didn’t take her long to realize it was cold out. Her bedroom, draftier than usual, also told her it was windy outdoors. This room never got warm—at least, it hadn’t since she’d moved into the house Jesse shared with three other guys. Now she knew why they had trouble keeping a fifth roommate, because she doubted she would have been colder if she’d had the window open.

By now, though, she would have thought she’d be used to it.

There were enough blankets covering her body to keep her warm, but she dreaded getting out of bed. That was always the hardest part of the morning in this house. Once she was in her robe and house slippers and moving around, she was fine.

But at least it was a roof over her head.

As she opened her brown eyes and took in the shadows clinging to the corners of the room, she realized that something didn’t feel right with her world—but she didn’t know what it was. She couldn’t pinpoint the cause of the feeling of unease that began washing over her as she completely awakened, but something felt almost out of balance. She wondered if that was part of why she’d awakened before her alarm went off. Glancing over at her phone, she saw that she’d gotten a text message. The screen told her it was from her editor at the Winchester Tribune, Neal Black. Why the hell would Neal leave her a message this early in the morning?

Please call me at the office as soon as you can.

Although she hadn’t planned on going in today, she thought maybe Neal had a lead for her. Her investigative reporting into several gruesome murders over the past couple of months hadn’t ended, but the murderer had stopped just as quickly as he’d started. There hadn’t been a murder in a few weeks since the last victim had been found, a young man whose body had been left at the high school, tied to a chain link fence and covered in duct tape. Nicki had anticipated another murder for some time but finally started to believe he was done. There was something that had felt final about the last one.

So what Neal might have now was a mystery. She’d wait, though, till this bizarre feeling passed. Coffee would help with that. All she could figure was that she’d had a weird dream right before waking and she needed to shake its hold.

Wandering into the kitchen, she went through the motions of making a pot of java. From the quiet of the house, she could tell everyone else was still asleep. It was way too early to be out of bed, even on a weekday. Way too frigging early.

As she grew more awake and the dark brown liquid started flowing in a steady stream into the glass pot, she decided to call Neal. As she came awake, her curiosity could no longer be contained.

This fucking feeling, though.

Neal’s phone rang a few times until it finally went to voicemail—which was strange, because the message he’d left her was from before six o’clock. Hey, Neal, this is Nicki, calling like you asked. Just wondered what’s going on. So tag. You’re it.

The uneasy sensation that something was not right clung to her like a cobweb.

She’d been so distracted on the phone that she hadn’t heard Jesse until he was already in the kitchen. Turning, she found him standing next to the table, reminded of why she’d fallen for him more than a year ago. From his chiseled features and dark brown hair with chocolate eyes to match, Jesse was a hell of a good-looking guy. Tall and formerly wiry, he was now beefing up, especially in his upper body, and he was covered in tattoos and piercings. Until the moment that she and Sean had consummated all their pent-up desires for one another, Jesse had been the right kind of guy for Nicki.

Today he wore a dark blue t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and his usual Converse sneakers, looking like he was ready to head out. Even though he seemed a little tired, he was as good looking as ever. But the look on his face—something was terribly wrong. Her eyes searched his for an answer, but she couldn’t find her tongue.

Hey, Nicki. He seemed to be scrutinizing her. Uh, how are you?

It seemed like such an odd, though innocuous, question. Okay. Why? Jesse was acting strange and it was freaking Nicki out. In spite of seeming awake and aware, his hair was mussed like he’d just rolled out of bed, and there was no mistaking the worry in his eyes. Was he stressed or just half asleep? What’s going on, Jesse?

His face solidified, looking almost like this moment had frozen in time, but his eyes continued searching hers.

Jesse, goddammit. What’s wrong? What’s going on?

As though his breath were restored to him, he let air out of his lungs, having opened his mouth—but if she hadn’t been straining, she wouldn’t have heard his voice. It’s Sean, Nicki.

She felt her heart drop to the floor and it was as if she, like Jesse, lost her breath. But she forced the air through her windpipe and over her tongue. When she finally spoke, her voice was louder than it should have been. What about Sean? She got closer to him. "What, Jesse?"

He wasn’t answering her, so she took his t-shirt in her fists and pulled him even closer, all but shaking him. Jesse, goddammit. Answer me! If punching him would have forced the answer loose, she would have done it. Now she knew something was wrong—with Sean—and she needed to know.

He was taken to the hospital by ambulance a while ago, Nicki. He’s in critical condition. I’m getting ready to head over there now.

What?

Joan called me a few minutes ago. She’s been there for a while. I guess he was in a motorcycle accident.

As if she was a broken record, Nicki said it again. What? It was only because she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Sean was probably the best motorcyclist she’d ever known. She’d only ever ridden with him a couple times, having remembered that old saying not if but when. And, even though he was a great driver, she hadn’t liked the idea of being unprotected and exposed. Not unprotected without a helmet—Sean had always insisted she wear one—but it scared the shit out of Nicki imagining being in an accident on a bike rather than enclosed in a car. That fear had been unrealistic and irrational, but she’d listened to her instincts.

But even though she hadn’t ridden with him much, she knew he was a damn good driver.

And, at this moment, she would have gladly been with him, accident or not.

There was no question. I’m going with you. Just let me get dressed.

Jesse nodded but didn’t say a word.

She ran to her bedroom and pulled her hair up into a ponytail before throwing on a pair of jeans, a sweater, and some boots. She didn’t care about makeup, but she did brush her teeth. Less than five minutes later, she was back in the kitchen with her coat on.

Jesse handed her a travel mug. I figured we’d need some for the road. Nicki took the cup, feeling a little shell-shocked, and followed him out to his Mustang. In the thin morning light filtered through clouds, Nicki could see her breath in the cold air. She hadn’t expected her breath to be so warm as to be seen, because she felt chilled to the bone—and it had nothing to do with the season.

After she got in Jesse’s car and buckled up, she sat in silence, watching as the streets of her beloved Winchester passed by slowly. She was glad he was driving, because she didn’t know that she would have had her shit together enough to have done a decent job. There was no more snow on the road from the storm a few days earlier, but there were small patches of ice here and there. She would have done all right if push had come to shove, but she was grateful she didn’t need to worry about it at all.

No. She had other worrying to do.

One minute into the ride, Jesse reached over and switched off the radio. The two of them didn’t say a word in the heavy quiet of the car, and the only thing Nicki could hear was the alternating purr and rev of the engine.

Anxiety continued eating at her, gnawing at her stomach. About halfway to the hospital, her phone rang. She looked down at the screen to see Neal’s name. Picking it up, she said, Hey, what’s going on? She’d already prepared in her mind a little speech, letting him know that she wasn’t going to be able to do her usual duties today, because the plan was to be by Sean’s side as long as he needed her.

But Neal’s words surprised her. I wanted to let you know I got a report on—

Sean? she interrupted. Sean Ramsey?

Yes.

Yeah, I know. I’m headed to the hospital with a friend right now.

Oh, okay. If you need anything, just let me know.

Nicki thanked him and hung up, maintaining focus on the road. They were close to the hospital now and it seemed like the skies had grown darker since they’d left the house. As Jesse turned down the block where they’d find the hulking building, Nicki marveled at how packed the parking lot was. They’d increased its size a few years ago after adding another story to the building, and it was a reminder to her that maybe her small town wasn’t so small anymore. It hadn’t stopped growing.

Jesse’s car meandered through the parking lot before he found a space about half a football field away from the front entrance. Nicki had never been a huge fan of the hospital anyway, especially when she remembered her days here as a patient on the second floor or even before that when her grandma’s health was fading.

Most of her recollections about this place were negative—and coming to see Sean now was no different.

The hulking beige building grew even bigger as she and Jesse walked quietly through the parking lot. There wasn’t much noise during this dreary, overcast day, but Nicki could hear a garbage truck somewhere off in the distance, first beeping and then making a commotion as it lifted a larger container over its head before dumping its contents into the back of the truck. Although she couldn’t hear the sound of their feet, their jeans made a noise as the legs scratched against each other. Pulling her coat around herself more tightly, Nicki wasn’t surprised that it did nothing to make her feel warmer. She felt cold to the core.

When they entered the hospital, Nicki automatically began walking toward the reception desk. Jesse touched her arm and said, He was in surgery and, when I talked to his mom earlier, she just told me to go to the surgery waiting area. He stopped at a directory over to the left, but Nicki headed to the reception desk anyway.

Where’s the surgery waiting area?

The older woman whose hair was pulled back had a stern expression that belied her actual personality. Once her eyes connected with Nicki,