by Meghan March
“And Denton Fredericks?” I choked out.
Mathieu’s eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck do you look so goddamn surprised? You knew I’d take care of that prick after he threatened her.”
His words made no sense, and my brain was spinning out of control. “I didn’t fucking know, Mathieu. Are you even listening to yourself? I’d never expect you to take care of him—any of them.”
It was the wrong thing to say, because his posture shifted and his eyes took on a crazy light.
“You knew. You knew I’d handle it. That’s how we roll, brother. You’re the only family I got. People fuck with you and yours, and I fuck them up.”
The words—and his absolute conviction in them—slammed into me. Somehow, some way, I’d let this happen. I was partially responsible.
“Why the fuck would you use Elle’s gun? Were you trying to pin it on her?”
“Pin it on her? Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Then why use her gun?”
He blinked and shook his head. “She’s a rich white chick; who the hell would ever ask to see her gun? And if Hennessy is looking at her for this, then I gotta take him out too. She’s family now. Nothing touches her.”
Jesus fucking Christ. I was still trying to figure out how the hell to respond to him when a knock sounded at the door.
The crazy look in his eyes intensified into something twisted and hard. “You didn’t know. You didn’t know. And you called the motherfuckin’ cops, didn’t you? That’s how you thank me for taking your back? The cops?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I strode to the window and looked out into the street, searching for Hennessy’s sedan.
“Can’t fuckin’ believe it.”
I turned back as Mathieu lunged for the gun on the counter and bolted for the slider.
He already had the door open as I took my first step toward him—bent on tackling him the same way I had two years ago. But the voice that filtered through the door stopped me cold.
“Pawn star, you in there?”
Did I chase down Mathieu? Tackle him like I had when he was seventeen?
Did I tell Elle that he’d inadvertently framed her for three murders?
Did I just hope to fuck I woke up and this was all a goddamn nightmare?
I grabbed the door handle and yanked it open before I ran to the slider where it hung open and looked out.
Nothing but darkness.
“Ummm … is everything okay?” Elle asked.
I looked back at her and shook my head. “No. Everything is not okay.”
The sound of a car firing up out front had me changing directions and heading to the front window.
“Shit.”
“Was that Mathieu? Where’d he go?”
“Ain’t that the question? Fuck. How did you get here? How’d you know where I was?”
“I’m getting that you’re not happy to see me … but do you need to follow him?
I stared out the window, but he was gone. Leaning forward, I pressed both hands to the windowsill and dropped my head.
“Fuck!”
I could feel Elle beside me before her hand landed on my shoulder.
“What did I miss?” she asked quietly.
What the hell was I supposed to say? How did I answer her? How did I explain the fucked up conversation I’d just had with Mathieu? The kid—someone I trusted—had thrown my world into chaos.
“It’s a mess. A goddamn mess.”
“We’ll figure it out. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”
The words reminded me of what I’d said to her. I pushed off the windowsill and stared down at her. She was dressed in yoga pants and a ripped T-shirt. She looked so … fucking innocent.
I had to respond. Had to think of something to say to ease the lines in her brow and worry in her eyes. But I had nothing. Nothing at all.
I glanced back out the window. There was no cab waiting out front, no idling Mercedes with a driver.
“How did you get here?”
She lifted her chin. “I drove.”
“You what?”
“I drove.”
Tonight was just jam-packed with surprises, but at least this was a good one—I thought.
“You drove,” I repeated.
“Yeah, I drove.”
“And made it here in one piece, thank fuck.”
Her smile was small. “It’s not like I’ve never driven before. I mean … it’s just been awhile.”
“Whose car?”
“Denton’s Porsche.”
A tiny measure of the tension coiled inside of me eased—until Elle laid her hand on my arm again.
“What happened with Mathieu?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Not only did I have to tell Elle, but I had to make another call that was absolutely going to gut me.
Black and white. Right and wrong. Honor or cowardice.
I knew what kind of man I was—and wasn’t. And I couldn’t wait before calling Hennessy. He had to know, and anything other than reporting Mathieu as soon as he’d run for it would be … less than honorable.
I had my duty to Mathieu—to protect him from others—but I couldn’t protect him from himself and what he’d done.
Black and white. Right and wrong.
Elle looked at me, the lines in her brow deepening.
My words weren’t well thought out, but they covered the high points. “Mathieu did it. Bree, Jiminy, your stepdad. All of them. With your gun. Hennessy was going to start looking at you next. I tested a round. Compared it. It was a match to the round they recovered from Jiminy.”
Elle’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widening. “Wha—? Wait … What?”
I realized how it sounded. “I knew it wasn’t you; I knew there had to be some other explanation. And that’s how I wound up here.”
“My gun?”
I nodded.
Elle stumbled backward and landed in a beat up La-Z-Boy.
“My gun?”
I closed the two steps between us and crouched in front of her. Her lungs were heaving too fast, her face completely pale. Shit. She was gonna hyperventilate.
“Elle. Calm down. Slow your breathing.” I lifted my hand and cradled her cheek in my palm. She shook so hard, the vibrations carried through me. “It’s gonna be okay, sweet thing. Just slow it down. In. Out. In. Out. That’s a good girl.” When her breathing slowed to a normal pace for a solid minute or so, I relaxed. She was still pale, but not shaking as bad.
“Omigod,” she whispered. “I can’t—That’s just—What in the ever-loving fuck of fucks?”
Miracle of miracles, even in this most fucked up of situations, Elle drew a smile to my lips.
“What in the ever-loving fuck of fucks is right. And yeah, it’s a mess.”
Her golden brown eyes met mine and held. “You’re goddamn right it’s a mess. Holy shit. What are we going to do?”
The we hit me right in the chest and calmed my churning gut some.
“We’re going to deal with it.” And the way we were going to deal with it sent my gut tumbling like a washing machine all over again. I pulled in a deep breath—long and slow—the way I’d just coached Elle, and released it. “But I have to call Hennessy first. That’s where we have to start.”
“I’m so sorry, Lord. I’m so, so sorry.”
Her apology drove home that I wasn’t the only one feeling the pain of loss right now. And not loss because Mathieu was gone—but because the kid I’d thought I’d saved had turned out to be his own breed of monster. It didn’t matter what his motive was. His misguided protectiveness had cost lives. And that couldn’t stand.
“I know.” I shoved my hand in my pocket and palmed my phone. “I gotta do it though. No way around it. Shit. Can’t believe he thought he was protecting me—and you—by doing it.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and found Hennessy’s number. It rang five times and went to voicemail. My mind scattered, words evading me until
the beep. All I said was: “It’s Lord. Call me as soon as you get this.” And then I hung up.
Lead settled in my chest, and I contemplated what to do next. Elle rose on shaky legs and held out a hand.
“Can we go? I think we should go.”
She was right. I looked around Mathieu’s tiny apartment, and I remembered the day I’d given him the key and told him the rent was paid for three months. He’d beamed. The first home of his own he’d ever had.
There was nothing left that I could do here.
Not a goddamn thing.
I threaded my fingers into Elle’s outstretched hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
I shut off the lights, locked the door, and followed Elle out into the parking lot.
A silver Porsche was parked a few feet from my ’Cuda, and we paused on the sidewalk between them.
“I can’t believe you drove.”
“I was worried about you. And with good reason, it seems. I knew I had to find you.” Elle dropped my hand and slid her arms around my waist. I followed suit and held her.
Pressing my lips to her hair, I said, “You drove around to find me because you were worried about me. That’s crazy, sweet thing.”
She pulled away and looked up. She bit her lip for a beat before blurting, “I don’t remember your cell number. I couldn’t call you. I … my phone was in my purse. I’m pretty much the worst at this girlfriend stuff. I’m memorizing it tonight, I swear.”
Again—against all odds—I smiled. “You good to drive home?”
Elle straightened. “Damn right I am—do you have any idea how good that car handles? I’m not sure if Eleanor is going to be able to impress me after that.”
I pressed a thumb to her lips. “Bite your tongue, woman. That’s an insult to all American muscle. Now go get your ass in your German machine, and I’ll follow you home.” I started to pull away, and then stopped. “Except … if Hennessy calls…”
She nodded. “You do whatever you need to do.”
That reminded me. “I have your purse. And you drove without a license?”
Elle’s shrug was the definition of so sue me. “Desperate times.”
My phone hadn’t rung the entire drive home. I’d followed Elle in the Porsche as she’d hugged the turns and mostly kept to five over the speed limit. Back at her ma’s, the house was dark and quiet, so we tiptoed our way to the guestroom she’d chosen. I hadn’t made it to my house to get her stuff, but at least some of her clothes had been in my car. I spit my toothpaste in the sink of the guest bath, and still, my phone didn’t ring. There was nothing I could do but wait.
It was going to be a long night.
Rinsing my mouth and grabbing my phone off the counter, I crossed the hallway and slipped back into the bedroom.
“Still—”
My words cut off as my eyes landed on the bed.
Elle. Spread out. Naked.
All creamy skin and perfectly round tits tipped with rosy pink nipples.
She ran a hand down her body as she spoke. “I know there are probably better ways to handle everything that happened today, but I can’t think of one right now. I just … I need you.”
And that was all she had to say.
I crossed to the side of the bed, slid my phone on the nightstand, and dropped my drawers. I needed her too. With the insanity of everything today, I just needed to check out for a while—because there wasn’t a goddamn thing either of us could do to change what had happened. All we could do was clean up the shattered pieces left from the mess.
But that could wait.
Until Lord had shoved his boxer briefs down his hips, I’d been completely freaking out this had been the worst idea ever. But still, I wanted to beat back the specter of death that seemed to be creeping up on us from every angle.
Lord said nothing before he lowered his head and took my mouth.
This wasn’t a regular, ordinary kiss. This was … all of the pent up emotions and uncertainties pouring out through the meeting of lips.
I wrapped both hands around his neck, pulled him closer and kissed him harder. The energy rolling off him carried an edge of danger. But I wasn’t going to shy away from it. Instead, I spurred Lord on. Dragging my nails down his shoulders, I sank them into the muscles of his back. He groaned into my mouth, lowering himself on his forearms to get closer. His lower half—and his rock hard cock—pressed into me.
My body seemed to liquefy on contact. It didn’t matter what was happening outside this room—the entire world could be falling apart—and still I’d want this man. Anywhere, anytime, and any way I could have him.
Lord pulled up a few inches.
“I need this. Need you. You’re the only fucking thing that makes sense right now.”
“I need you too.”
He squeezed his eyes shut before lowering his lips again, this time landing on my jaw and dragging them down my throat, to my collarbone. Nips and scrapes of his teeth sent goose bumps prickling across my skin. He moved lower still, mouth closing over my nipple and his hand finding my other breast to cup and tease the peak.
Heat and slickness pooled between my legs, and my hips bucked against him, seeking more and more pressure. More and more Lord.
All thought faded from my brain, replaced by the pleasure shimmering and rippling through me.
Lord traded one nipple for the other, driving me higher still. His hand slid between my legs, his fingers finding my clit.
“So fucking wet,” he said, lifting his head from my breast. “Can’t wait to be inside you.”
“Then what are you waiting for?
“I’m trying to take this slow.”
I shook my head, “I don’t want slow. Whatever you need is exactly what I want.”
His finger speared up inside me, and he pumped it in and out before adding another. Each motion sent me closer to the edge. Tonight, I was tightly strung, every emotion so close to the surface.
Changing the angle of his hand, he found my G-spot, and pleasure spiraled through me.
“I’m gonna come,” I whispered.
Lord said nothing, just watched as I splintered with the force of the sudden orgasm.
I’d hardly recovered when he was pressing into me.
I didn’t need to recover.
I never wanted to recover.
I wanted this man to wreck me for the rest of my life.
“It gets better every time. How is that even possible?” Lord breathed as his cock sank into me inch by inch.
He stilled when he was seated to the hilt. His eyes found mine, and he pushed the errant strands of my wild hair away from my face.
“You’re so beautiful. So goddamn smart. You’re the whole package, and I’ve got my cock buried inside you. I don’t know how I got here, but I never want to leave.”
“I can work with that,” I replied. The words were hushed when they fell from my lips. My inner muscles clamped down on Lord’s cock.
He groaned. “You’re stealing my control, woman. Before I even get a chance to make you come again.” He withdrew and slammed home, sending more shivers of desire radiating through my limbs.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck to muffle my cries as I came. When Lord emptied himself inside me, he did the same, his teeth scraping along my shoulder. The sensation kept my body on edge as the orgasm flared through every pleasure receptor I had.
Neither of us moved for long minutes. The only sound in the room was the drawing in of heaving lungfuls of air.
Lord finally lifted his head and pressed a kiss to my forehead and then my lips. “I love you, Elle. So goddamn much.”
“I love you too. More than you know.”
He pulled away, and a tissue box on the nightstand provided the means to clean up. When he shut off the light, Lord wrapped me in his arms and held me close. I’d never been a fan of spooning, but this man had converted me for life—so long as they were his arms I was sleeping in.
In the darkness, our breathing s
lowed, and I swore I could hear his brain start to churn again.
“Go to sleep,” I whispered. “You’ll hear your phone if it rings, and until then, there’s not a damn thing you can do.”
“I know. That’s not what I’m thinking about.” The words ruffled the hair sliding forward over the side of my face.
“Then what?”
“Even though I wish I didn’t know, I’m glad I do. Now I can do something about it.”
“It’s good to have the mystery solved … even if it had to be solved this way.”
He pressed another kiss to my hair. “Yeah. Tomorrow’s going to be a hell of a day, so we better sleep.”
He was undoubtedly right. My mom would be awake and sober, and I needed to tell both her and my stepbrother that my stepdad had been murdered because of me.
That wasn’t going to go well.
The ringing of my phone ripped me from the dream I’d been having about being trapped in my basement shooting range, staring down the barrel of a gun. Needless to say, I was really glad to wake up.
I reached for the phone and every ounce of that gladness drained away.
Hennessy. Here we go.
Elle’s eyes snapped open as I answered.
“This is Lord.”
Hennessy didn’t even bother with a greeting. “Got some bad news for you, man.”
I froze, bracing myself for whatever else could possibly be coming next. It didn’t just rain—it fucking hurricaned in NOLA. Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“What?”
“Found a Charger registered to Chains smashed into a telephone pole down by Loyola. It was totaled.”
What the hell?
“The Charger? My Charger?”
“Yeah, if I were you, I’d head down to your place and see if anything else is missing. I can meet you there.”
My mind immediately went to Mathieu. “You find anyone with the car?” I held my breath waiting for the answer. As fucked up as what he’d done was, and despite the fact that I was going to share everything I’d learned with Hennessy, I didn’t want anything to happen to the kid.
“No. Abandoned. The accident reconstruction guys were just finishing up when I heard about it, and they’re saying the tracks look like the driver swerved to miss something and lost control.”
