All the Pretty Lies (19 page)

“And when did you become so interested in my
daughter’s welfare?”

Hemi answers coolly, “Would you rather I not
care?”

“Of course not, but I’m not handing her off
to be taken advantage of by some—”

“All due respect, sir, but
Sloane
is
old enough to make her own decisions. Maybe you should be asking
her what
she’d
prefer to do.”

“Right now, I’m not interested in your
opinion or what you think I should be doing. I’m doing what’s best
for my daughter. Like I always do.”

“Sir, I’m not arguing that. I’m just—”

“The hell you’re not! You’re standing on
my
lawn telling me what to do about
my
daughter’s
safety.”

“I’m after the same thing you are—keeping
Sloane safe. And I think this—”

“I don’t give a damn what you think!”

“Then give a damn about what Sloane thinks!”
Hemi fires back.

“Listen here, you little shit,
my
daughter will do what
I
say because I’ve protected her for
the last twenty years!”

“Twenty-one,” I mutter again.

“Sloane! Shut it!” Dad yells.

His snappy command is the last straw. This is
exactly what I’m trying to get away from—being treated like a child
who has no voice, no brain. But no more! This is my chance to
really
make him see. It couldn’t come at a worse time, of
course, but it’s still my chance to prove something to my father.
And I’m going to take it.

“Dad, he’s right. About everything,” I say,
drawing the attention of two sets of eyes that were glaring at each
other. Now they’re focused on
me.

“Sloane, I—”

“I know, Dad. I know every argument, every
reason, every explanation. I know you love me. I know you want
what’s best for me. And I know you don’t want to let me go. I know.
I get it. I really do.” I reach out and take his hand in mine,
meeting his sharp gaze. “But you have to, Dad. I need for you to
let me go.”

I don’t look away and neither does he. I want
him to see me, to really
see
me right now. I want him to see
that I love him and I respect him, but that I need this. I need to
live. I need to decide things for myself, make my own decisions and
my own mistakes.

I don’t know how many long, tense minutes
pass with the three of us standing in front of the house this way.
Too many. But, finally, Dad exhales and I see the fight leave him
again. And for the first time ever, I see him give in to me.

“It’s only because I love you so much. You
know that, right?”

I smile up into my father’s handsome, worried
face. “Of course I know that. Why do you think I’ve put up with it
all these years?”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful. Always,
Sloane. Have some respect for the life and the time you’ve been
given.” He glances quickly at Hemi over my shoulder. “Make good
choices.”

“Dad, that’s all I want to do—enjoy life. And
I can’t do that locked away in an ivory tower.”

“I know, I know. It’s just hard. Hard to let
go. I hope to God you have kids one day so you’ll know what it
feels like.”

“I hope to God I do, too,” I admit with a
trace of sadness.

Dad squeezes my hand and then looks back at
Hemi again. “I’m trusting you with one of the most precious
treasures I have. Don’t make me come after you.”

Hemi nods. “I understand, sir.”

I stretch up on my toes to give my dad an
impulsive kiss before I run into the house to make a little
overnight bag and grab my books for tomorrow. I feel
scatterbrained, like the adrenaline coursing through my body is
preparing me for action rather than deliberate thought. But one
thing I am having
no trouble
thinking of is Hemi. And where
I’ll be spending the night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT- Hemi

“What the hell were you thinking, man?” I ask
myself in the silence that surrounds me in the car. For the
hundredth time, I look in the rearview mirror to make sure Sloane’s
still back there.

Truthfully, I don’t know
what
I’m
thinking. Or if I’m thinking at all. I know better than to get
involved with Sloane. Especially now. And especially in an
anything-other-than-sexual way. But pulling up to find her standing
in front of her house in the middle of the night, seeing the bullet
holes in the siding, walking through a sea of brass shell casings
to get to her—holy shit! That moment was…profound. I was shocked.
And, for whatever reason, a little afraid—for Sloane and of losing
her. And there was guilt. Of course there was guilt. It was nearly
overwhelming. What if something I’ve done, however inadvertently,
caused this? Put Sloane in danger? How the hell could I ever live
with myself?

The desire to get her out of there was
strong. Damn strong. I’m thankful for my normally somewhat
dispassionate nature. It allowed me to be confident and nonchalant
in front of her father and never let on what I was truly feeling.
So that’s good. But now…now I’m on my way to my house with a girl I
shouldn’t be messing with, who’s part of a family I’ve got a beef
with. And she knows none of this. Yet I’m bringing her to my home.
That’s
reallllly
pretty stupid.

There’s no turning back now, though. I see my
turn up ahead. I drive along the street that I’ve driven for the
past two years and pull into the driveway in front of the rental
house I’ve called home for the past two years, all with Sloane
following behind me.

I cut the engine, take a deep breath and get
out of my car. I walk back to Sloane’s, opening the back door to
pull out the bag I saw her dump in there earlier.

“Damn, this thing weighs a ton. What do you
have in here, a body?”

Sloane slides out from behind the wheel,
grinning up at me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

A tense silence falls down between us as we
walk up the cobblestone driveway toward the front door.

“This is beautiful,” Sloane says as she looks
up at the two-story entry of the Mediterranean style structure.

“Thanks.”

“Yours?”

“Of course it’s mine. We don’t just pick a
house and make ourselves at home.”

Sloane rolls her eyes. “I know that, smart
ass. I was asking if you own it.”

“No, it’s a rental, nosey.”

“Hey, you can’t blame a girl for trying.
You’re so secretive. I know very little about you. I don’t even
know your last name, for God’s sake.”

I stop in front of the quietly babbling
fountain that sits to the left of the front door. “Does that bother
you?”

She shrugs, but doesn’t meet my eyes.
“No.”

“Liar.”

Her eyes fly to mine. “No, seriously.
Everyone is entitled to their secrets.”

“But?”

“No, buts,” she says, looking down again as I
step toward her.

“What are your secrets, Sloane,” I ask,
hooking my finger under her chin to lift until she’s forced to look
at me.

“If I told you, they wouldn’t be secrets,
now, would they?”

I search her face. She’s beautiful and
innocent and somehow mysterious. She hides a lot. I can tell. And I
think she’s seen a lot. I can tell that, too. Maybe a lot of pain.
Too much for someone like her. For some reason, it makes me want to
take it away. And it makes me feel like shit that I might be
bringing her more.

“I guess not,” I reply softly. “But those
aren’t the important things anyway, are they? You know
me,
whether you know my last name and my life story or not. And I know
you.
I know that you’re strong and willful, and that you
taste like honey when you melt in my hand.”

I see the change in her eyes. I see them get
smoky with heat, heat from the things I’m saying to her, things I’m
thinking about. Things I should be keeping to myself. Especially
when I’m going to be spending the night with her.

“Hemi, I—”

I cut her off before she can finish her
sentence. I shouldn’t have started us down this road. And now I’m
desperate to change the trajectory.

“Are you sure you want to be here? I mean,
your father
did
almost get shot up tonight. It wasn’t my
intention to take you away from your family if you felt you needed
to be there with them.”

I see the change again, this time to worry.
And awareness. And regret. And guilt. I’m an asshole. A selfish
asshole who needs to clear his conscience. To save her from one
disaster, I hit her in the face with unfair and unwarranted guilt.
That’s a pretty shitty thing to do. But evidently, I’m a pretty
shitty guy.

“I…I never thought of it like that. I mean, I
knew they would all just want to know I’m safe, but…oh God, what if
something happens during the night?” I see the fear ease into
panic. “What if Scout never made it back? Oh my God, what if those
people come back? To finish what they started?”

Her big, liquid eyes, round with worry, rise
to mine. She’s asking me for comfort. And reassurance. From the
concern that I alone just brought to her and laid at her feet. And
now, as perverse as it sounds, I feel compelled to give it to her.
To erase that unsettled look of fear that’s marring her beautiful
face.

“Only cowards pull a stunt like the one that
happened tonight. And cowards don’t come back right away. Not when
their targets are on the lookout. Prepared. And you’re right. Your
father and your brothers would want you to be safe, first and
foremost. Without having to worry about you, they can focus on the
task at hand, put all their attention where it needs to be.”

Sloane slowly starts to nod her head. Then
she closes her eyes, no doubt against the horrific images I put
there, images of her family bleeding to death from gunshot wounds
as they sit on the couches and lie in their beds at her house.

Yeah, I’m definitely a shitty guy.

“Come on. You can call them and see what’s
going on. And tonight, you’ll be safe. You’ll be safe here. With
me. As long as you need to be.”

As I start through the house, Sloane
following along behind me, I barely hear her question. “Hemi, what
about Sasha?”

I stop, turning to frown down at her. “What
about Sasha?”

She shrugs. “Well, I know you said it was
nothing
now
, but it
used to be,
and I just wondered
if
she
knows that. I mean, why is she back?”

I step closer to Sloane, moving her hair away
from one side of her face. “She ran into some money troubles back
home. She’s just working at the shop until she can get back on her
feet. That’s it. Nothing more. And
yes,
she knows that, too.
Sasha has nothing to do with…anything.”

I can see the relief on her face. I wonder
how long she’s been chewing on that, worrying it over and over in
her head. If I had to guess, I’d say for quite a while. For her to
consider it
now, tonight,
with everything else that has
happened…

She nods and smiles, and I know she feels
better, so I turn to continue on up the stairs.

I show Sloane to the largest of the four
guest rooms. It’s not a huge house, nothing compared to what I’m
used to, but it’s a lot bigger than hers. I’m not surprised that
she’s impressed.

“Wow! This is, like, three times bigger than
my room at home.”

I set her bag on the chaise at the end of the
king sized bed. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here then. I want you
to make yourself at home. Anything in the house—the pool, the hot
tub, the sauna, the gym, the kitchen—whatever you need, is
yours.”

“Thank you for bringing me here, Hemi. I
really appreciate it. And you not…not…”

“Not what? Taking your things to my room?” I
see her cheeks pinken and I know I’m right on the money. “Sloane,
this is a tough time for you. I would never presume that you’d want
to spend your night with me.” I see her swallow uncomfortably,
which makes me want to put her at ease. “That’s not to say that I
couldn’t work a little magic on you, make you
want
to spend
the night with me.” I grin at her and she grins back. “But that
would be highly inappropriate. So, tonight, hands off.” I raise my
hands to punctuate what I’m saying.

Sloane walks to the bed and trails her
fingers along the luxurious white duvet. “Does that mean you might
consider staying in here with me for a while?” she asks in a tiny
voice. “I just…I just don’t want to be alone yet.”

“Of course,” I say, moving to her side. I run
my hand down her back until she turns toward me, tilting her face
up to mine. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep. How’s that?”

I can see by her faltering smile that she
wishes I’d offered more, but that she’s happy with what she got. I
warned her…

“Sounds good. As long as it doesn’t put you
out.”

“Holding a hot woman in my arms? Ummm, no. It
won’t put me out.” I bend to brush my lips across hers. “It’s late.
Why don’t you do what you need to do to get ready for bed? And I’ll
be right back.”

She nods again and unzips her bag. I’m not at
all surprised when, within a few seconds of my departure, I hear
her on the telephone, no doubt checking in with her father. While
Sloane might want to have a little freedom and spread her wings,
she’s obviously close to her family. And it would break her heart
if something happened to one of them. Even if one is a rat-bastard,
dirty cop.

So where the hell does that leave me?

I go through the house, checking all the
doors, downing a quick beer, waiting for Sloane to get ready,
giving her room to breathe. When I make my way back upstairs, I’m
well aware of the nearly-painful hard-on that’s straining at my
zipper. Inappropriate or not, if she pushes me very much tonight,
I’ll take what I want with no regrets.

It’s with no small amount of disappointment
that I walk into Sloane’s bedroom to find her sound asleep, curled
on her side under the covers.