Beneath These Lies (6 page)

I’ve got this.

I’m okay.

No, I don’t. I’m screwed.

Someone banged on the bathroom door, jarring me from my thoughts. I slammed my head back against the wall in surprise. Thank God I had the presence of mind to keep my finger off the trigger.

The music died, and a voice came from outside the door.

“Let me in.”

It was Rix.

Did I open the door? Aside from Trinity, he might be the only other possible ally I had in this house, no matter how unlikely. I was still debating whether to open the door when the button on the lock popped out and my choice ceased to matter.

Strangely enough, I didn’t panic. Probably because I wasn’t capable of panicking again so soon. Besides, now I had my hand wrapped around the grip of my pistol. If anyone tried to touch me, I’d shoot them.

The door swung open and Rix’s tall frame and wide shoulders filled the doorway. His eyes were unreadable as he took me in, sitting on the bathroom floor, knees pulled up to my chest, one hand wrapped around my legs and the other hand buried in my purse.

He didn’t ask me if I was okay. He didn’t ask me what the hell I was doing there. I assumed he either knew or didn’t care about the answers to those questions. Instead, all he said was, “He won’t bother you again.”

I thought of the man he’d knocked out with one punch. I couldn’t be upset about it. If I could have, I would have done worse to him in that moment to protect myself.

It was a perfect reminder that I shouldn’t even be here. As Rix had made perfectly clear this afternoon, this wasn’t my world, and I probably shouldn’t even know it existed. Trinity shouldn’t be here either.

Rix’s stare intensified, and he stepped inside the room and shut the door. The room seemed to shrink to half size, and I was hyperaware of his proximity to me.

“He hurt you?”

I mentally assessed myself. “No,” I replied, shaking my head. “He didn’t have a chance.”

“He scared you.”

Rix’s words weren’t a question. And nor should they be. Of course he’d freaking scared me. It would have scared anyone, even someone without my messed-up past. I could admit that without shame.

I nodded.

“He’ll hurt for a week. If that ain’t enough, you say the word, and I’ll make him hurt longer.”

I shook my head, trying to wrap my brain around what Rix had just said. Had he really just offered to hurt someone for me? The twisted side of my brain took strange comfort in that. He’d defended me.

Stilling my shaking hands, I babbled. “I’m fine. I guess I thought I was over it. Maybe I’ll never be over it.”

Rix’s gaze sharpened on me. “Over what?”

Once again, my only reply was to shake my head.

“Over what, duchess?” The nickname caught my attention and drew me off the path that led down memory lane.

“Why would you call me that?”

“Answer my question first.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“A thing that happened years ago. It’s fine. No big deal.” Again, I sounded like I was babbling.

“You’re talking about that politician’s kid. The one you sent to prison. He fucked you up.”

My eyes cut to his. “You know who I am.” Shock colored my words and icy coldness spread through my limbs. He shouldn’t know that.

“Didn’t take me long to find out. And I’ll call you whatever I want. You’re back in my world. Thought we covered this already. You don’t belong here.”

I’d address his declaration another time, like when I wasn’t cowering on a bathroom floor and needing to find my girl.

And enough cowering. Not in front of this man. No, since he was here, he was going to help me whether he wanted to or not.

“I’m looking for Trinity. She called me from here. Scared, said something was going on and people were fighting. She wanted to leave, but someone wouldn’t let her.”

A cold ruthlessness settled over Rix as soon as my words were out. “She called you and told you this?”

“Yes. Otherwise, trust me, there’s no way I’d be here.”

He held out a hand. “Come on.” When I didn’t reach for it, he snapped his fingers at me, his impatience clear. “Don’t have time to wait around. Let’s go.”

“I am not a dog. Don’t snap at me.” As soon as the words were out, I remembered who I was talking to. The scary head of a gang. I needed to take more care before I spoke.

A deep rumble filled the tiled bathroom, and it took me a second to realize it was laughter. Rix’s whole body shook with it.

“Not many men would dare talk back to me like that, and sure as shit no woman would. You’re something else. Now, come on. Let’s go see if we can’t find your girl.”

I hesitated for another beat before I took his hand and he pulled me up. But he didn’t let go when I was standing. Rix’s fingers stayed wrapped around mine as he opened the bathroom door and led me out into the hallway.

I was stuck on how much bigger his hand was than mine. And how strong and capable his grip was. Heat shot through me as an image of his hands gripping my hips filtered through my brain. At the thought, I missed a step, stumbling into Rix’s side.

He paused and looked to me. “Whoa. You sure you’re okay?”

Forcing the image away, I nodded in response.

“All right then, let’s do this.”

Rix shoved open doors as we passed them—something that had seemed foolish and stupid to do by myself—and yet the house seemed so much less forbidding with him beside me.

That’s when it hit me. I was with the most dangerous man in this house, maybe in this neighborhood, or even this city, my hand in his, and I felt . . . safe. My mind was trying to wrap itself around this foundation-rocking realization while I glanced in each room that we passed.

Each one was . . . occupied.

None of the girls were Trinity.

And he never let go of my hand.

He led us back down the hall and into the living room. He spotted someone and jerked his head. A younger guy came toward us.

“Where’s D-Rock’s woman?” Rix asked him.

He shrugged. “Don’t know. Saw them both leave after we ran off those FiveNDown punks who showed their faces.”

Rix stiffened, but his grip never changed. “You’re telling me we had FNDs on this block and no one told me?”

The guy shuffled his feet and looked at the floor.

“What the fuck ain’t you saying, Evo? Don’t you dare think about covering for D-Rock if he had a damn thing to do with it.”

The kid, Evo, dragged his gaze from the floor to Rix’s face. “They were here selling some white. D-Rock wanted some, and they got pissed when he did three lines tryin’ the product and then told them it was shit and to get out.”

Rix’s voice dropped even lower. “Those fucks were here sellin’ blow on my block? They’re done. D-Rock answers to me. Where’d he go?”

“Went to take his girl home.”

I bit my lip. Even though I wasn’t fluent in drug speak, I’d seen the movie
Blow
because . . . well, Johnny Depp. So I was 99.9% sure Evo was saying that Derrick did cocaine and then drove Trinity home, and that had to be totally unsafe.

My mama-bear-style rage burned off the remainder of the fear I was harboring. I really, really didn’t like this D-Rock kid, and Trinity and I were going to have a come-to-Jesus talk tomorrow when she got to work. This was not the life that a girl who had a full ride to art school needed to be involved in.

“I need to make sure she got home okay,” I said to Rix. “I have to go. Now.”

Glancing at me, he nodded. “We’ll make sure.”

Looking back at Evo, he said, “You ever see the FNDs anywhere in this neighborhood, and I don’t care who invited them or for what fucking reason, you call me ASAP. You don’t wait two minutes, you don’t pass go. You don’t do a goddamned thing but call me so I can handle it. You get that?”

Evo nodded. “Got it, Rix. I got it.”

“Good. Now, spread the word and make sure everyone hears it. Anyone has a problem, they take it up with me.”

“Okay.” Evo turned away and paused. “What about D-Rock?”

“Don’t worry about it. He gets to deal with me too.”

I didn’t know what Rix was going to do to Trinity’s boyfriend, but I also couldn’t pretend I cared. I was on the
ship D-Rock to Timbuktu
committee from this day forward.

Evo headed back to the living room, and Rix tugged at my hand. “Let’s go, duchess.”

Wait, what?

“I’m good. I’m going.” I pulled at his hand, but he didn’t release his grip.

He shook his head. “
We
are going. Not you.”

“Not necessary.”

“I don’t care what you think is necessary.”

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s go.”

He studied me for a long moment before letting me pull him toward the door. I didn’t know why he was still holding my hand, but it was like he didn’t want to let me go.

Why doesn’t he want to let me go?

The girls I’d seen when I was arriving at the house were leaning up against a dented gray Ford Focus, smoking and looking too young and too cool. When they caught sight of me and Rix, their demeanor changed instantly. Slouched shoulders instantly went back, hair was straightened, skirts were tugged up slightly, and boobs went out.

“Hey, Rix,” one girl called. “We thought you might wanna party tonight.”

I was clearly not labeled competition, because they didn’t even acknowledge me.

Rix didn’t even hesitate. “Go home.”

The bolder one of the two, the one who’d stopped us, stepped forward. “We’d rather go home with you.” She finally spared me a look. “Bet we’d be a lot more fun than her.”

Rix’s grip tightened on my hand. “I’m gonna say this once, so listen up. You stand around at parties, lookin’ at every guy like you do, every one of ’em is gonna think you’re a ho.” He jerked his head toward me. “This right here, this is pure class. That ain’t somethin’ you can plaster on like all your fuckin’ makeup and perfume. You can’t put that on like your skanky-ass clothes or buy it like your fake tits. You got it or you don’t. And you two, you don’t. So go home. Close your legs. Find some goddamned self-respect.”

I pressed my lips together to keep my jaw from dropping open. Had I heard him right? First, that was the most words I’d ever heard him speak. Second, he’d straight-out called them on their skankiness, and third, he’d complimented me in a big way.

His advice had actually been good
advice. Actually, almost exactly what I would have wanted to tell those girls, in less blunt terms. Who would have thought that would come from Rix? Before now, I would have put my money on him taking them up on their offer. What guy wouldn’t?

I watched him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if there was more to him than I’d thought.

The girls’ pale shoulders slumped again, but they didn’t say another word as we walked to my car. Honestly, what could they say?

“Keys, duchess.” Rix held out the hand that wasn’t laced with mine.

I jerked my head up to meet his gaze. “What?”

“Keys. I’m driving.”

I looked from him to my Tesla. “But it’s my car.”

“And I’m not the kind of man who lets a woman drive me around.”

A chunk of the points I’d just awarded him in my brain slid away. “Are you serious? That’s ridiculous.”

He walked me around to the passenger door before he responded.

“You ever take tactical driving lessons? You know evasive maneuvers and defensive driving techniques? The kind that keep people safe in fucked-up situations?”

The question stumped me. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll take that as a no. Now, give me the keys and get in.”

Safe
. The word echoed in my brain.

He didn’t even know me, but he was concerned about my safety. And with him, I felt safe, even though he scared the hell out of me. How was that even possible?

Because he’s already defended you. Rescued you. And he might be a scary motherfucker, but apparently he’s on your side
.

I reached into my purse and pulled out the keys. “Okay. You can drive. Just . . . be nice to my car.”

The door handles had already popped out when I’d gotten close with the key, and Rix pulled open the passenger side for me. As I climbed in, he said, “Like I’d hurt this car.” With a ghost of a smile, he added, “Been dying to drive it.”

“What—” He shut the door before I could finish, but when he climbed in the driver’s side, I continued. “How much of your speech was true, and how much was you just wanting to drive because you like my car?”

Rix’s expression turned serious again. “Every damn thing I’ve said to you is fucking true, but it doesn’t mean you should ever trust me.”

The man was bluntly honest, and I couldn’t help but respect it. If I had to guess one thing about Rix, I’d be willing to put my money on always knowing where I stood with him, despite his warning. Not that I needed to know where I stood with him, because as soon as I knew Trinity was safe, I’d never see him again.

After I pointed out a few oddities of driving a Tesla, Rix was cruising along the streets of New Orleans toward Trinity’s grandma’s house. I’d texted her again, but still no answer. She’d better be home, asleep, or I was going to lose my ever-loving mind.

A yawn escaped my mouth, and I quickly reached up a hand to cover it.

“Long day?” Rix asked, glancing over at me.

“Aren’t they all?”

“This shit with your girl’s got you all off-balance.”

His insightful comment surprised me. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I can’t imagine you’d run out of the house with paint on your face for any other reason.”

My hand flew to my cheek, and the crusty dust of paint met my fingers.
Well, hell
.

“Didn’t figure you’d be the type to paint your own walls.”

“I wasn’t painting walls,” I said, instantly wondering why I’d corrected him. My painting wasn’t something I talked about. With anyone. Ever.

Rix’s silver eyes lit with understanding, and I knew he put it together. “You’ve got that fancy gallery. You sell your own shit there too?”

“I don’t sell my stuff at all. It’s just a hobby. Something I do when I’m bored.”

The explanation lay like dried paint on my tongue, hard to get out and bad-tasting. Painting for me wasn’t just a hobby. There had been days when it was all that saved me from the darkness.