“No. Her face was purple. She wasn’t fighting him at all. I think she was already dead.”
“Jesus,” came from Gryff across the table.
“Piece of holy-roller shit,” Rayne murmured.
“Why do you think he killed her?” Eli asked softly. She probably didn’t know. It could have been a simple lover’s quarrel where one lover was totally unstable. Though, she surprised him with her answer.
“I know why he killed her,” Liv said in a monotone voice.
“Why?”
“She was pregnant. He wanted her to have an abortion.”
Rayne sucked in a breath and Liv turned her attention toward her.
“She refused. She wanted the baby. Thought it would bring them together.”
“Well, that fucking backfired, didn’t it?” Trey said, running a hand through his dirty blond hair in an agitated manner.
“Trey,” Rayne whispered.
Trey turned his attention to Rayne. “Well, it did,” he stated. “But I still don’t understand why the police aren’t involved.”
“I’m sure they’re involved,” Gryff said.
“Then why can’t she come forward?” Trey asked, still not understanding the gravity of the situation.
“Did he see you?” Eli asked Olivia.
“Yes.”
Fuck. This was worse than he thought. “What did he do?”
“I don’t know because I ran.”
Eli nodded calmly, though he felt anything but. She witnessed a powerful politician killing a woman who was carrying his child. A married politician killing his former prostitute lover whom he wanted to have an abortion, something he was so publicly outspoken against and was trying to make illegal. And he was into some sort of kink. Talk about being ripe for blackmail.
“Peggy told me once he has the police in his pocket. He’s powerful. He knows who I am since she talked about me. He knows I saw him. I figure by now he knows where my apartment is. I can’t go back there. I couldn’t go to the police because I don’t know who to trust.”
“Police aren’t the only ones in his pocket,” Eli told Gryff and Rayne.
“Right,” Gryff answered. “This is a problem.”
“A big one,” Rayne added.
“Now what?” Trey asked. “What can we do?”
Eli smoothed a hand over his bald head. He had to think about this. Should they go to the feds? Should he go to the DA?
Jesus. The problem was Eli had no idea who Dean had in his pocket. He was smart and ruthless. He wasn’t going to let a woman take him down. Not a former prostitute, not Olivia.
“You did the right thing by avoiding your apartment,” he finally said.
“I have nowhere to go. I stayed in a motel for a couple of nights, but I can’t afford...” she drifted off.
“I can pay,” Trey said.
“No. She shouldn’t be left alone,” Gryff said. “She could come stay with us. She needs protection in the meantime while we figure this all out.”
“Or at least until his ass gets caught and thrown in jail,” Rayne added. “I’m sure they collected evidence at the crime scene. They have to have his DNA.”
“That woman’s apartment is full of his DNA, Rayne,” Gryff reminded her.
“Right. So that should put him at the top of the suspect list,” she returned.
Gryff snorted. “So you’d think. Again, depends on who’s in his pocket.”
“Shit,” Rayne whispered.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Liv said. “I can stay at a motel. Hell, I can leave the state.”
“No. You can’t. You’ve just showed up in my life again, you’re not taking off,” Trey said quickly but with determination. “I’m the only family you have. You can stay with us.”
“No,” Eli cut in. “She can’t.” All eyes turned his way. Grant was going to kill him. “She can stay with us.”
“What? Why?” Trey asked, surprised.
“If he finds out she’s your sister—or maybe he already knows—where’s the first place he’s going to look?”
“Fuck,” Gryff grunted.
“Right,” Eli said, nodding. “And Trey, you’re not hard to find. You’re too well known in the area. She can come stay with Grant and me temporarily until things cool down or he gets caught. Or we figure out what authorities we can trust with her information.”
Eli felt her heavy gaze on him. He turned his head and met it head on.
“Why would you want to do that?”
He had no fucking clue. He had no valid reason to invite a woman he didn’t know to come stay in the house he shared with Grant. And without even running it past his husband first. He had no idea why he wanted to protect this woman, to make sure she remained safe.
“Eli,” came a gruff voice from across the table. He slid his eyes to his boss who lifted his chin toward the door. “A word.”
He pushed from his chair and left the conference room with Gryff on his heels. As soon as his boss shut the door behind them, he turned and, keeping his voice low, he asked, “Why are you doing this?”
Good question. “She needs help.”
“Yes, but she’s not your responsibility. You have no obligation to step in in that manner, to put you and Grant out there like that. However, I do want you involved since you are our P.I. and you might have ideas on how to handle this sticky situation. Though, as expected, we’ll pay you for that.”
Eli shook his head. Before he could respond, Gryff continued, “But what we don’t expect you do to is go beyond what your job entails. Especially for Trey’s sister who’s a stranger to us all. Even him. I mean, we don’t even know if what she’s saying is the truth.”
No, she spoke the truth. His gut instinct would tell him otherwise. And he had good instincts, it’s what made him one of the best P.I.’s in the business. It was also one reason why Gryff poached him from another firm. “I believe her.”
“And I’m taking her at face value right now, too. But she’s had a questionable past... And sometimes people with that type of history become experts at lying.”
“Boss, we have the space, we’re both capable of keeping an eye on her, keeping her safe and we have an excellent security system. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Gryff stared at him for a few moments. He was trying to read Eli. See what his motivation was.
Eli kept his face neutral.
“We could put her up in a hotel,” Gryff suggested.
“She might not be safe there.” And that was the truth. Hotel security wasn’t top-notch, and it wasn’t like they could give them a heads up. Olivia would need an alias and need to stay locked in her room. It was more hassle than it was worth.
“She could stay at Grae’s,” Gryff said next.
“You want to drag your brother and his family into it?”
The corners of Gryff’s lips turned down. “Not really, but if I have to, I will.”
“Gryff, we got it. We’ll be fine. You treat us well and we appreciate our jobs. We don’t have to hide who we are while working here. We’d be glad to help.”
Gryff nodded and squeezed Eli’s arm. “I hear you. We’re lucky to have both of you. But you might want to clear this with Grant first.”
“Yeah, I need to go break the news to him.”
“So, you’re just telling him and not asking,” Gryff said, clearly fighting back a smile.
Eli smirked. “Grant thinks he wears the pants in the relationship. But I wear them, too.”
“Okay. I’ll go in and talk to Liv and you go do what you have to do. Just don’t let it screw up your smooth relationship.”
“The one as smooth as yours?” Eli joked.
Gryff barked out a laugh, whacked Eli on the back, then went back into the conference room, closing the door.
“What?” Grant Lane watched his husband pace in front of his desk. He removed his glasses and scrubbed a hand down his face.
Eli’s long legs ate up the length of the room in j
ust a few strides. With his constant going back and forth, he reminded Grant of one of those shooting galleries at the state fair. And with what Eli just told him, he was about to start pinging him with a freaking BB gun.
“Why the hell would you invite her to stay in our home?” This couldn’t be happening.
He loved Eli. He did. But he really had a serious dislike for him at the moment.
“Grant...” Eli started, rubbing a hand over his bald head.
“Eli...”
“I know I should’ve run this past you first...”
“No shit,” Grant murmured.
“But I can’t shake this need to help her. And it’s Trey’s sister...”
“So fucking what? Trey has more money than all of us combined. He can figure out how to keep her safe. Gryff is smart. Hell, so is Rayne. They can figure it out themselves. We’re not a motel for runaways.”
“She’s thirty-two, Grant. Not sixteen.”
“Right. She ran away at sixteen and now she’s on the run at thirty-two. I see a pattern.”
Eli stopped pacing and faced Grant, his face way too serious for Grant’s liking. “Both situations were and are beyond her control.”
Grant shook his head. “I don’t understand why you’re defending her. I don’t understand why you’re even taking a personal interest in her. You met her like...” He looked at his watch. “An hour ago? If that.”
With a sigh, he got up from his office chair and came around his desk to step in front of Eli. Even though he was only two inches shorter than his husband’s six-three, he had to look up as he stepped into him. He reached up and smoothed fingers along Eli’s tight jaw.
“What’s really going on, big man?” he asked softly.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. I’ve known you way too long for you to get away with a lie like that.” He placed a palm on Eli’s chest. The man’s heartbeat thumped at a wild pace. “Tell me,” he murmured.
Eli’s dark brown eyes hit his and his lips parted. “I love you, mon amour. You know that.”
Shit. And he was pulling out the French, which was Grant’s weakness. “I know.”
“I mean... you’re my âme sœur, my soulmate.”
Shit. He wasn’t playing fair. “I know.” Grant’s heart started to race as fast as Eli’s.
“I...” Eli’s gaze shifted away from him.
Grant tried to swallow but his Adam’s apple got caught. He finally forced it down. “What the hell is going on, Eli?”
“Fuck,” Eli muttered. “I just need to help her. We need to help her.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why, Grant. I fucking don’t know. I just know I need to... I have this... I... fuck.” He blew out a breath. “The second I saw her, I just felt the need to take care of her. Like she belonged to me. To us, even. It’s fucked up. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“To us,” Grant repeated. “Somehow I don’t have that burning desire, Eli. I met her briefly. I understand getting the urge to help someone who needs it. You’re a caring, loving man. I mean, that’s one of the reasons why I fell for you. But still... She’s not a stray puppy that you bring home.”
Eli pulled away from him and moved to the windows, turning his back on Grant.
“And, honestly, do you really want to bring someone into our home, into our life, someone you have this strange urge to protect and possibly bring turmoil into our relationship and our marriage? Do you want to risk it?”
Grant’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Eli turn and his face go through a gamut of emotions.
“Yes. I need to do this.”
“Jesus, Eli,” Grant whispered. He dragged his fingers through his hair and dropped his head to stare at the floor for a moment. Finally, he looked up. “I don’t understand.”
“I know. I’m not sure I do, either.”
“Why the hell would I agree to this?”
“Parce que tu m'aimes.”
Because you love me. Grant let out a bitter laugh. “I love us, too.”
“It’s just for a short while, mon amour. Just until we figure this out. We hide her. We keep her safe. That’s all I’m asking.”
“That’s not all you’re asking, Elliott. That’s bullshit. And what are we figuring out? I have a feeling your meaning’s different from mine.”
Fear crawled through Grant. If Eli was gay and not bisexual like Grant was, he wouldn’t care if a woman came to stay with them. It would be inconvenient, sure. But there was something about this woman, who neither of them knew at all, that was affecting his husband. He couldn’t wrap his head around why. Maybe he needed to get to know her. Watch their dynamic together. Maybe it was just a big brother thing Eli was feeling.
But he doubted it. There was no way Eli bonded with a stranger in such a short amount of time.
Although, that’s what happened to the two of them. An instant connection.
Shit.
“I just don’t want this to be the end of us,” Grant said softly.
“It won’t be. I promise.”
I promise. “I trust you, big man.”
And he did. He trusted Elliott one hundred percent. He never had any reason not to. And he hoped that didn’t change any time soon.
With a sigh, he finally conceded. “Let’s help Trey’s sister.”
He might have just agreed to the biggest mistake of his life.
Chapter 3
Liv wandered through the living room, her fingers brushing along the edges of the dust-free furniture and the expensive knickknacks. Which probably weren’t knickknacks at all. They were most likely expensive pieces of art. She jerked her hand away. She didn’t need to break anything and certainly couldn’t afford to replace anything, either.
The house was quiet. Not a dog, not a cat, not a pet in sight. No children. Nothing.
It seemed to be a huge house for only two men. Two men who were not only lovers, but were married.
If being a senior associate attorney and a private investigator for Gryff’s firm allowed them to purchase this house, she wondered how big the house was that her brother lived in. After all, he was not only a Super Bowl champion with endorsement deals, he was a partner in a prestigious, well-known law firm.
He’d come a long way from their shitty beginnings. But then, so had she, just not as far and definitely not financially.
She had never lived in a place so nice, so clean, so... not her. She had to remind herself this was only temporary until they got her out of this mess. Or she ended up dead and buried so Randall Dean could keep his secrets.
Eli and Gryff’s reactions to the senator’s name cemented her suspicions and the limited knowledge she had on the politician. He was corrupt and powerful. A scary combination.
While Olivia Holloway was a nobody and no match for someone like him.
She sighed and made her way into the kitchen, which was huge. A chef’s kitchen that any cook would love to have, and she loved to cook. She taught herself when she went out on her own. Since she couldn’t afford to buy meals at restaurants, she scrounged for ingredients and learned to put together somewhat satisfying dishes. Bruised fruits and vegetables. Dented cans. Open boxes. Day old bread. Anything she could get cheaply, or even free, to transform into something she was proud to eat.
Hell, at sixteen and seventeen she ate better than when she lived with her neglectful, alcoholic mother.
One day, she hoped to have a chance to sit down with Trey and learn how he survived and flourished. At least during those tough years, he’d had football. She had nothing. And that’s one reason why she left. If she would’ve encouraged him to come along, he would’ve gave up his future as a football star. He may never had graduated high school, either. Forget college. Forget the NFL.
“Liv,” she heard from across the expansive kitchen. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled the smells of whatever Grant was cooking at the stove.
The man had looked hot in his suit when she saw him earlier in th
e day at the firm. Now he wore a worn pair of Levi’s, a soft-looking mauve T-shirt, and was barefoot. His glasses were gone, too.
He still looked boiling hot. Too bad he was gay.
And married, she reminded herself.
Eli came into the room, wearing long, loose black shorts, no shirt, and was barefoot, too. From what she could see, a sheen of sweat covered his torso as he leaned into Grant and pressed his mouth to his husband’s ear.
Whatever he whispered made Grant turn his head enough so that their lips met for a quick kiss.
A rush of warmth ran through Liv and she hadn’t expected that reaction. Two men sharing a kiss made her want to squirm and not in a bad way. She hoped they did it again and took it deeper.
Unfortunately, they didn’t.
“How was your workout?” Grant asked.
Eli peered into the skillet at whatever Grant was stirring. “Good. Starving. Dinner soon?”
Grant ran his gaze slowly over Eli, opened his mouth, seemed to catch himself, then peeked over at Liv. She could only imagine his thoughts were dirty and he stopped himself from saying them out loud in front of a guest.
She wouldn’t blame him one bit. As Eli turned toward her, her gaze swept over his chest, too. His deeply dark-toned skin shined like ebony. His muscles were well-defined. His pecs, his arms, even his neck were corded. His stomach had definition, as well.
A tingling and another rush of warm wetness was felt between her thighs.
Again, too bad such hot, beautiful male specimens were gay. It was a loss for women everywhere. But at least she got to appreciate the view.
Eli’s lips curled up as he caught her gawking at him. “Hungry, Liv?”
Oh, yes, she was.
“Grant’s a good cook. His food won’t kill you. Mine? No guarantees,” the man teased, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I appreciate you allowing me to stay here. You certainly didn’t have to do that. It’s very generous of you... both.”
“It’ll be a nice change of pace.”
“Yes, because apparently, I bore my big man,” Grant said as he pulled the skillet off the stove and turned off the burner.
“Tu ne m’ennuies jamais, mon amour,” Eli murmured.
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