Lie to Me (41 page)

Slowly, she relaxed further, leaning into him, the smile curving her lips so warm and full of love that his heart now felt like it might explode.

“Ryder,” she said softly.

Relief filled him, the knowledge that she was accepting him, trusting him.  He waited a touch breathlessly.  “Yeah, babe?”

“I believe you.”

Oh, thank God.  He knew, he’d believed, but hearing her say it had him almost sagging in relief.  His heart actually regained its steady beat.

“I know how serious you are,” she continued.  “You know why?”

“You can see it on my face, hear it in my words?”

“No.  I know it because you’re saying it while we’re both standing out here with our arses hanging out in the breeze and our jeans around our knees.”

“Huh.”  His eyebrows shot up but he continued gazing into her eyes.  “You’re right.  My arse is feeling a little chilled.”

Laughter lines fanned out from her eyes.  “You are such a romantic bastard, Ryder.”

“Better believe it, babe.”  His hand rubbed her bottom.  “I’m unique.”

“Small mercies.”

He smacked her bottom lightly.

“Want me to knee you in the nuts?  Because with everything hanging out, you’re a prime target.”

“Want to go over my knees?  Because your bare arse is giving me ideas.”

“Hurt the one you love, huh?”

“Babe.”  He grew serious again, hugged her hard.  “I’ll never hurt you.”

“Just my arse,” she gasped.  “Apparently.  Need air.”

He relaxed his hold.  “That might be the only exception.”  He dropped a kiss onto the tip of her nose, a slightly longer one on her lips, enjoying the old camaraderie touched with new love between them.

With a sigh, he finally released her, stepping back.  “As much as I enjoy having you half naked, I’d be derelict in my duty if I didn’t continue this date in a more proper fashion.”  Pulling off the condom, he wrapped it in a tissue he retrieved from his pocket, pulled up his jeans and fastened them shut.

“There’s more?”  Dee yanked her jeans up, fastening the zipper and button with a slight flush on her cheeks.

“Of course.  Maybe you should remove the jeans, be a little more comfortable.”

“Oh sure, as if that’s going to happen.”

“Huh.  Well, sit down.  I’m going to feed you.”

Dee did as bidden.  “You brought food?”

“Yep.  Called in at Mum’s and raided her ‘fridge.”  Tossing the wrapped condom in the bin, he pulled a hand wipe from his other pocket and ripped the little packet open, wiping his hands on the wet wipe while walking across to the motorbike where he opened the saddlebags and withdrew two Alfoil-wrapped packages and two small bottles of grape-flavoured soft drink.  Placing one of the packages in front of Dee along with a bottle of drink, Ryder sat on the bench opposite and smiled.  “Dig in.”

Curiously, she unwrapped her package to see a roll.  It was still warm, the scent of chicken and mayonnaise filling the air.  “Oh, yum, your Mum’s hot chicken roll!”  Taking a bite, she moaned.  “I don’t know what the secret is, but she puts something more than just chicken and mayonnaise into this.”

“It’s all in the homemade mayonnaise.”  Ryder paused, pointed his roll at her.  “Don’t you ever tell Mum I found that out.”

She smirked.  “I do like having something over you.”

“Jesus, you’re evil.”

“You bet, baby.”  She licked her fingers, winked.  “Evil as they come.”

“That makes me hot.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a sicko.”

God, he loved her.

Chapter 13

Shaking the pot plant soil into the new pots, Dee couldn’t help but admire them.  Painted pale blue with bright yellow daisies all over, they certainly brightened up the back.

Footsteps sounded behind her and she straightened.  “Cripes, Ryder, don’t you start.  I know the stitches aren’t out but my arm’s fine, I don’t need you nagging me about lifting bags and…”  Her voice trailed away as she turned and saw the man standing behind her.

Unkempt black hair straggling over his brow, tall and lean, Brand Dawson scowled at her.  His eye was blackening, blood had dried at the corners of his mouth, one lip was swollen.  A bruise was blossoming on his cheek.

“You bitch,” he ground out.

“What do you want?”  She eyed him warily.  “And who beat the crap out of you?”

“Who?  You slut, you really don’t know?”  Hands fisting, he took a step closer.

“No.”  Uh oh.  She wondered if she could get into the back door in time to lock it against him.

She thought it, but he moved suddenly, reaching out to grab her shoulders and shove hard, sending her stumbling back against the wall of the shop.  He followed fast, his forearm pushing against her throat, forcing her head back so she had to look up at him, forced to drag air in under the pressure of his arm.

“I’ve been watching you,” Brand snarled.  “Seen you and the ambo getting it on, seen him visiting here.  Seen you enjoying life right after you ripped mine apart.”  He pushed his face closer.  “Ripped
our
lives apart.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”  She met his gaze steadily even though her heart was pounding with a mix of fear and, yep, had to be truthful, annoyance.  She never did take well to being bullied.

“You’re real good at turning friend on friend, brother on brother.”  Brand pressed a little harder, momentarily cutting off her oxygen before releasing enough so she could suck in another mouthful of air.  “Thanks to you, you turned my own brother on me. 
Me!
”

“Jason?”  Inwardly quaking a little, she refused to lower her gaze.  “I still don’t know what you’re saying, Brand.”

“My brother and me, we’re mates.  Or we were.  Then he suddenly starts getting these ideas, thinking differently.”  He spat to the side, sneered at her.  “Starts wanting what he can’t have, what he shouldn’t want.  Can you believe he even stuck up for you several times?  I’m bloody joking about you one minute, the next he’s punching me out.  Me!  And because of you, you little slut.  We fought several times because of
you
.”

The man was a raving lunatic.  “There’s nothing between us-”

“Too bloody right there isn’t!  You’re not our kind, but he’s blind to that.  You turned his head, made him turn on his family.  Thanks to you, bitch, he’s left.  He’s walked out on us all.  And you’re going to pay for it, pay for it good.”  Stepping back, he grabbed her shirt and dragged her forward.  “Gonna give you a flogging you’re never going to forget.”

Oh shit.  Oh shit, Brand might be lean but he was strong, leanly muscled from hard work.

Fear flowed through Dee but she wouldn’t back down, refused to back down, the stubborn part of her rising up even while part of her shook with fear.  As he brought his fist back, Dee brought her knee up, but he twisted at the last second, her knee colliding with his upper thigh instead of his nuts.

Brand grunted, fury flaring brighter in his eyes.  “You filthy slut!”

Damned sure she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.  Opening her mouth, Dee screamed, but even as it echoed in the deserted back lot she knew she’d be lucky to be heard, be lucky for anyone to find her before Brand really hurt her.  Saturday afternoon most people would be home, the shops were shut, everything was quiet.

Throwing herself backwards, she fought with Brand, grabbing his wrist to try and keep his fist back from her face.

Releasing her shirt, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked, bringing her to her knees, pain exploding across her scalp.

Christ, that hurt!

Brand drew back his leg, his steel-capped boots heavy and threatening, so she did the only thing she could think of - she lunged forward, grappling him around the knees, throwing him off-balance.  He tipped backwards, hitting the ground, his bellow of rage cutting through the air.

Dee leaped to her feet and made for the back door but he wasn’t far behind her, she could hear him, but then his second bellow was choked off, the sound of fist hitting flesh loud in the air.

Spinning around, the sight that met her shocked gaze was nothing she’d ever have imagined in her wildest dreams.

Jason fought with Brand.  Brother against brother, evenly matched in height and build, they traded blows.  Blood-inducing blows.  No brotherly fight, this was pure rage, only Jason was flagging, favouring his side, pain twisting his features as Brand steadily beat him down.

Boots thudded on the footpath and she looked quickly to her right, her heart almost stopping with relief when she saw Ryder running towards her, Scott right behind him.

Ryder look one look at her, his gaze sweeping over her, and fury etched onto his face.  He hadn’t even stopped running before he grabbed her, swinging her into his arms to hug her close, pushing her back to search her face, mouth tight, handsome face grim as he looked at her again, hugged her close once more, and swore violently.

Unable to help it, Dee clung to him for several seconds, welcoming his strong arms that held her so easily, wrapped her up protectively.

Then Scott was there, the concern on his face harshly touched with anger.

“Jesus, Dee.”  Ryder hugged her again.  “Babe, are you all right?  I’ll kill the bastards!”

“I’m fine.”  She looked up at him. “I am.  Really.”

“Who did this?”   Fury had Ryder’s face white, his dark eyes flashing blue fire.  “Which bastard did it?  Was it Jason?”

“No, it was Brand.  He - Ryder!”  She lunged after him.

Scott jerked her back.

“Ryder, no!”  Dee twisted in Scott’s hold but he refused to release her, holding her easily.  “Let me go!  He’ll kill him!”

“Got a right to,” Scott said harshly.

Before Dee’s horrified eyes, Ryder walked right up to the fighting pair, shoved himself in-between them, his bigger, more muscular bulk simply shoving Jason backwards, and then he laid into Brand.

As in really laid into him.  Fists flying, face hard, Ryder practically had blood in his eyes.  He did all but howl at the afternoon sun.

She’d seen him in school fights, but she’d never seen Ryder systematically bring a man down as he did to Brand.  Punch after punch, kick after kick, drag the sorry bastard back up and continue.

Brand didn’t stand a chance.  He swung, he punched, he tried to kick back, but the blows seemed to simply glance off Ryder, not slowing him down or making him falter an inch.

Jason staggered back to lean against the wall of the shop, blood dripping from his eye and lip, basically blood smeared all over his face.  He was hunched over, trying to cradle what appeared to be busted ribs.

“Jesus, Scott, he’ll kill Brand!” Dee burst out.

“Don’t sweat it.  Here comes the cavalry.”

Simon appeared at a full run, almost smacking bang into Ryder as he hooked him under the arms and dragged him from Brand.  Evenly matched in size, Simon nevertheless had trouble holding the enraged Ryder.

“Stay right here.” Scott released her to run and help Simon.

Between the two men, they kept Ryder back from Brand, who simply flopped to his knees, his eyes rolling back in his head right before he keeled over to sprawl on the ground.

Ryder was still breathing fire.  “I’ll kill the bastard!”

“Settle down.” Simon was breathing a little hard.  “He’s out to it.”

“He touched Dee!  I’ll rip him apart!”

At the sound of her name she ran over to Ryder, skidding to a halt in front of him and almost going over in the loose gravel.

He caught her quickly, jerking her up against him, smoothing her hair back from her face with one hand.  “Oh Jesus, Dee.  Oh babe.  Are you all right?  Christ!”  He hugged her hard again, bending over her.

She could hear his heart thudding in his chest, the harsh breaths that pumped through him.

“Cripes, Ryder,” she said shakily.  “Get a grip. You’ll stroke out.”

“He hurt you.  No one hurts you.”  His hold gentled but remained possessive, one big hand on her back, the other touching her face, turning her head this way and that as he examined her.  “Did he hit you?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”  She hugged him.  “Man, you have to calm down.”

Scott crouched beside Brand.  “He’s okay.  Bit bloodied but not unconscious.”

“Bastard,” croaked Brand.  “I’ll have him charged.”

“I’ll make sure it’s bloody worth it,” Ryder growled.

“Stop it.”  Grabbing his hand, Dee tugged him towards the footpath that ran along the back of the shops.  Now that the danger was over, worry bit at her.  “Crap, this is all just
crap
.”  Charges against Ryder?  The words pounded in her head, tears filling her eyes as she looked across at Scott pleadingly.

He gazed back at her reassuringly.  “It’ll be all right, Dee.” 

That did little to soothe her.  If Brand chose to make life hard he could and would.  Their last hope was Kirk, he was the only one who might be able to talk sense into Brand.

“Dee,” Ryder said quietly.

She looked up at him, seeing him through a blur.

“Babe, don’t fret.  Nothing he can do will hurt you now.”

Hurt her?  “You dumb arse!  I’m worried about you!”

“Me?  Shit, babe, don’t get your panties in a knot about me.”

“He’s going to have you charged, Ryder!  I don’t want you charged!”

“Let him do what he wants, my only concern is you.”

How could he sound so damned reasonable?  So unconcerned?

Turning to see Brand struggle into a sitting position, Dee started forward furiously.  “I’ll kick his nuts in!”

“Whoa!”  Ryder’s arm encircled her waist to haul her back against his front.  “Ease up, babe.”

“Ease up? 
Ease up?
  That bastard came here, threatened me, and when he got the living crap beaten out of him that he so richly deserved, he threatens to have you charged?”  Dee lunged forward again, even though it was futile with Ryder holding her back.  “I’ll bloody press charges!  That bastard attacks me and then dares to even threaten to charge you?  I’ll-”

“He won’t press charges,” Jason rasped.

“I bloody will.” Brand staggered to his feet.

The man looked like a disaster had happened right on top of him.  Clothes torn, blood all over, and his other lip was swelling.  He also now sported two black eyes and his nose ran with blood.  In fact, he
was
the disaster.

“No.”  Jason looked at him through an identical swollen eye.  “You press charges, and I’ll press charges against you.”

“You?”  Brand spat on the ground.  It would have been impressive if a chunk of white tooth hadn’t accompanied it.  “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, I would.”

“I’m your brother!”

“You’re no brother of mine.”  Jason straightened painfully.  “No brother of mine lifts his hand to our mother.”

“Bastard,” Simon growled softly.  “Maybe we should all have a go at him.”

“Don’t be stupid.”  Brand tried to glare at Jason but his swelling eyes didn’t help.  “Mum’s fine.”

“Mum’s in my car right now.  We’re going.”

“Mum’s going?  Why the hell-”

“Because I can’t take it anymore,” a new voice said.

The sadness in it was heart wrenching, the grief in Lora Dawson’s face even harder to watch when she moved up beside Jason.  The red mark on her cheek wasn’t faded enough to hide the hand print.

“You charge Ryder,” Jason rasped, “I’ll charge you with assaulting me.”

“And I’ll charge you with assaulting me,” Lora added.

Brand stared at her in shock.  “Mum?”

“”Your father beat me enough all my life, yet I stayed for you boys.  But I won’t stay and see you both turn out like him.”  Lora slid her arm around Jason, taking most of her son’s weight even though he tried to prevent it.

Simon moved up, gently pushing Lora’s arm away and pulling Jason’s arm over his shoulders.  “Lean on me.  I’ll take you to hospital.”

“Mum?”  Brand could only repeat in bewilderment.  “You’re leaving?”

“You struck me, Brand.  You hit me and then you and your father beat Jason when he stepped in.  I won’t let you destroy his life as well.”  She lifted her chin even as tears welled up.  “You go home.  I hear you tried to charge Ryder and I will have you in gaol so fast you won’t know what’s happening.  You hear me, boy?”  Her voice cracked.  “Your father knows I’m holding assault over his head, he knows I have plenty of witnesses over the years, his record at the police station is long.  He won’t back you up if I say something to him.  He’s a coward.  I only wish I’d acted on my instinct long ago, then I might have saved you.  But I lost you, boy.  I won’t lose Jason as well.”  She swallowed.  “Go home.  Go home and never let me hear you do or say anything against these fine people again or I will be back, and it will be with charges.”