by Meghan March
“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.
“Fancy woman, fancy hobby. No surprise there.” Rix’s eyes cut back to me when he slowed at a red light. “The surprise is that I’m finding I’ve got a strong taste for fancy these days.”
Wait, did he mean . . . ? He wasn’t interested in me, was he?
I didn’t know how to reply, and the flashing red and blue lights ahead of us meant that I didn’t have to.
“Oh my God.”
The driver’s side of a dark sedan had mostly been crushed inward by an older SUV, and a telephone pole had cracked in half and landed on the roof of both cars. Lights from police cruisers, fire trucks, and two ambulances lit up the dark night.
“Fuck,” Rix bit out. He slowed the car to a complete stop and turned toward me. “I need you to hold it together.”
My concern over the accident screamed toward panic, and my stomach dipped to the floor. “Wha—why? Is that—”
“The Impala is D-Rock’s.”
My nails bit into my clenched fists as I stared into Rix’s silver eyes. “And the SUV?”
“All you need to know is this wasn’t an accident.”
I swallowed, my mouth already dry as tremors racked my body.
“Oh my God. Holy shit,” I murmured, looking back at the mess of twisted metal. Grabbing the door handle, I yanked at it.
Locked, it’s locked. Unlock it, and find Trinity. She’s okay. She has to be okay.
“Valentina,” Rix snapped, reaching across the car to wrap his hand around my jaw and turn me to face him. “Hold it together. You walk up there flipping the fuck out, it ain’t gonna help your girl. We’ll find her, make sure she’s safe. The impact wasn’t on her side. Now, open the door, pull it together, and go talk to whoever is on the scene who will give you answers.”
I nodded, my head bobbing up and down. “Okay. Okay. Let me go.”
Rix’s grip tightened. “Calm. The fuck. Down.”
I swallowed again, took another deep breath, and released it. “Okay. I’m good. I swear.”
He nodded. “I’m taking your car. I’ll be back in ten. Give me your phone so I can give you my number. You text me as soon as you find out anything, and if she’s at the hospital, I’ll get you there.”
“Okay,” I repeated.
“You walked up to me and gave me shit like no one else would dare. You can hold it together for your girl.” When I nodded again, his thumb brushed over my cheek. “Good. Phone.”
His hand dropped away, and the softness that had been in his eyes faded as I handed over my phone and he added his contact info. I was practically vibrating in my seat, holding back the urge to rip open the door, when he did something else and I heard a buzz from his pocket.
“I got your number now. I’ll be in touch. Go find out what you can.”
“Okay.” When had my vocabulary shrunk to that single word?
He handed the phone back and I turned for the door. Rix’s hand shot out and wrapped around the back of my head, pulling my face toward him as he leaned in. Before I understood his intent, his lips descended on mine for a hard, quick kiss. He pulled away abruptly.
“You got this.”
All I could do was nod again because my vocabulary was nonexistent. Rix kissed me. What kind of alternate universe am I living in?
As soon as he released me, I was out of the car, practically running for the yellow police tape stretched across the road. When I made it there and an officer stopped me, I glanced back and Rix was already gone. My hands shook, and I could still feel the pressure of his lips on mine.
He kissed me. I gave myself a mental slap. Forget about it, Valentina. Not important. I pulled myself together and turned to the cop guarding the police line.
It took ten minutes of begging for information before he threatened to throw me in the back of a squad car, complete with handcuffs as accessories.
“You don’t understand. Her grandmother is elderly, and I’m the only person out here looking for her. I know she was in that car.”
“Ma’am, you need to leave before I make you leave.”
Cops were quickly falling down my list of people who were useful in any way.
“Jones, give me a report.” The familiar voice came from behind me. Both Officer Jones and I spun around to see Detective Hennessy slamming the door of a dark four-door sedan. He walked toward us.
“I don’t think this is your—” the younger officer started.
“I have reason to believe this is connected to my ongoing investigation. Give me a report.”
Jones looked at me and then at Hennessy, who had stopped next to me. “If you’ll come over here, sir.”
“Right here is fine.”
Was Hennessy trying to help me again?
The young officer looked at me and then shrugged. “Two-car collision, only one victim on the scene when we got here—the driver of the Impala. He’s been taken to a nearby hospital.”
“What about the passenger in the Impala?” I demanded.
Jones didn’t answer the question until Hennessy repeated it. With a huff, he replied, “Passenger door was open, purse on the ground. No sign of the passenger. We figure the female fled the scene.”
“Did you get an ID from the purse?” Hennessy asked.
“Someone else did. I didn’t see the name.”
“Go get it, now.” Hennessy’s tone was authoritative, brooking no refusal.
Jones, looking pissed as hell, stomped off in the direction of the other uniformed officers at the scene. Hennessy took in my attire and looked around. His gaze landed on something, and I turned.
It was my car, parked across the street in a parking lot.
“You just happened to be out driving tonight and saw an accident, and thought it might be the girl you were looking for the other day?”
I cobbled together the best explanation I could under the circumstances, and because I was a terrible liar, I stuck with as much of the truth as I could.
“Trinity got in contact with me, but she was at a party and needed a ride home. I went to pick her up, but someone had already given her a ride.” Pointing at the crushed car, I sucked in a ragged breath. “That was her ride home.” The words came out on a sob.
“Jones said only the driver was on the scene, so she could’ve gotten scared and run.”
I shook my head. “She wouldn’t have left him. He’s her boyfriend. She’s eighteen and head over heels for the guy.”
“D-Rock,” Hennessy said, pulling the name from his memory.
“Yes.”
“I don’t even want to know about the party you went to get her at, do I?”
“No, probably not,” I admitted.
Jones came back, holding up a license. “Trinity Frances Rodgers.”
“Where is she?” I whispered, voice shaking.
“We’ll find her,” Hennessy said. “Jones, call all the hospitals to make sure some passerby didn’t take her to one.”
Once again, Jones looked less than pleased. “I’m on duty. I don’t have time for that.”
“While you’re standing around, you can make phone calls. Let me know immediately if you get any leads.
” Hennessy turned his attention back to me. “You need to go home, Valentina. Wait for news. There’s nothing you can do here.”
His words were like jabs to the gut. “But—”
“Go home. I’ll call you when we have something to tell you.”
“She’s a good kid. I swear. And she’s really important to me.”
“I’ll do what I can to find her.” He laid a hand on my shoulder. “You need to stand down. This isn’t a joke. Let’s go. I’ll walk you to your car.”
I blanked, thinking of Rix waiting in my car. Although I wasn’t entirely sure if he was or not, but I wasn’t going to take the chance and lead Hennessy right over to it. That would end in way too many questions I didn’t have answers for.
“Thanks, but it’s just across the street. I can make it there myself. And I know I need to be smart, but sometimes your own safety isn’t as important as the person you’re worried about. Trinity’s a good kid. She just got herself caught up in the wrong crowd.”
“She’s not a kid, Valentina. She’s eighteen years old. You can’t protect her from her own decisions. How’s she going to learn?”
I glanced toward my car again, wondering if Rix was inside and what he’d found out. “I’m not debating this with you.” Turning my gaze back to Hennessy for a beat, I forced a smile. “Thank you for your help. If you hear anything . . .”
“I’ve got your number.”
I nodded before turning and checking for traffic. I crossed the street to where my Tesla was parked, and the passenger side door popped open. That answered my question about Rix.
Before I climbed inside, I peeked over my shoulder to see if Hennessy was watching.
He was.
I hoped he realized it was none of his business who was driving my car, and that the tinted windows would prevent him from ever finding out.
When I climbed inside, Rix’s expression was unreadable. I didn’t wait for his prompt before I started rambling.
“They don’t know where she is. Her purse was there, but she was gone when the first responders arrived. I don’t even know what to think. They’re going to call the other hospitals and make sure she wasn’t picked up by some Good Samaritan and taken there. I need to check her house still, but I don’t want to wake her grandmother this late.”
Rix stayed quiet through all of this, but when I paused to take a breath, he held up a hand. Whatever else I was going to say fell away.
“I’m gonna give it to you straight, because I don’t think you’d appreciate me dickin’ you around on something this important.”
My heart hammered against my chest in anticipation of whatever bad news he was about to relay. “What? What do you know?”
“Waiting on confirmation, but best we can figure, the FNDs wrecked on purpose, and when D-Rock was pinned too bad to get out, they grabbed your girl instead. I called a meet and issued a warning that the girl they took belongs to my crew, and is not to be touched.”
“Oh my God.” Cold chills ghosted over my skin. “Are you serious?”
I’d thought of dozens of disastrous things that could have befallen Trinity during those hours I couldn’t find her and the police wouldn’t take my missing person’s report, but not a single one of the possibilities I’d considered were as scary as being kidnapped by some rival gang. Probably because I hadn’t known gangs were something I needed to worry about.
I covered my face with both hands. This isn’t my life. How is this happening?
“Is she okay?”
Rix pulled my shaking hands away from my face. “I’ll get her back. No one is fucking stupid enough to hurt her now that I’ve laid claim.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to block out the unreality of this moment. But blocking it out wasn’t going to help. I opened my eyes and stared at him.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Rix squeezed my hands before releasing them, straightening in his seat and shifting the car into gear. “You’re gonna go home, go to bed, and wait for word from me tomorrow morning. That’s what you’re gonna do.”
“Tomorrow morning?” But I wanted him to go rush in and save her tonight.
“Meet is set for ten a.m. In the meantime, they won’t touch her.”
“How can you be sure?” I asked, not willing to leave Trinity’s safety to chance.
Rix’s answer was blunt. “Because they know they’ll all be dead if they do.”
His words didn’t scare me. I didn’t care that he’d threatened to kill people. I didn’t care about anything except the fact that he was willing to do whatever was necessary to keep her safe.
“Then take me home so I can get on with the waiting. There’s no way I’ll sleep tonight.”
He didn’t respond as he drove to Saint Charles Avenue toward my house before slowing at my driveway. My gate opened automatically as my car approached it, and I hit the button for the garage door.
“How do you know where I live?” I asked.
“Told you it didn’t take me long to get all the info on you. And your address is on your car registration.”
When I shot him a sideways look for riffling through my glove box, he shrugged. “What? You talked to that cop forever.”
“You can park it inside.”
He pulled into the garage and turned off the car. “Nice digs.”
“Thank you.”
“Fancy as fuck, aren’t you, duchess?”
How did I answer that? I was pretty sure fancy as fuck was a relative term.
“I don’t know if fancy is the word. I inherited the house from my great-aunt. I spent a lot of time here as a kid, so it has a lot of great memories.” I waited for some other judgment on my lifestyle, but none came.
He reached for the door handle and glanced over at me. “No point in you staying up the rest of the night. You need sleep.”
Yeah, I’ll get right on that, I thought as he climbed out of the car.
Gathering my purse from the floor, I reached for my own door handle, but the passenger door swung open before I could touch it.
He’s opening my door for me? Who is this guy?
Rix offered a hand to pull me out of the low-slung car. “Come on. You need to get inside, and I’ve got a ride coming to get me.”
I jerked my hand back in surprise. “You’ve got a ride coming here?” Did I want more gang members knowing where I lived?
Rix’s eyes narrowed, taking my meaning clearly. “Not here. A couple blocks toward the Quarter. Don’t worry, duchess. I don’t want anyone to know I’m fucking fascinated with you either.”
My mouth fell open at the backhanded compliment, but Rix was done wasting time. He pulled me out of the car and led me to the side door of the garage that led into an enclosed portico connected to the house. The garage slid shut as I pressed the button on the wall, and Rix pushed open the door.
He was fascinated with me? How did I respond to that?
Apparently Rix wasn’t waiting for a response, though, because he was already opening the door in the portico that led out front.
With one foot out, he turned and looked at me. “Get some sleep. I’ll call or text if I hear anything.” He shut the door and was gone.
I wandered from room to room, my house feeling more empty than it ever had before. I liked living alone, and normally enjoyed the solitude. When you lived alone, there was no one questioning why you were painting in the middle of the night, or working on financials on Friday at eight o’clock when everyone else was doing something fun to celebrate the weekend.
But tonight, I wasn’t loving being alone. Worry for Trinity stalked me as I wandered, and the only thing I could do to stem the thoughts that spiraled out of control was go back to my studio, turn on some music, and start mixing paints.
I painted furiously. Canvas after canvas, until my eyes burned and my back ached. I blinked against the grittiness and looked out the window into the blinding orange and pink of the sunrise.
Crap. Didn’t plan on t
hat.
Instantly I was reminded that Rix had told me to sleep. I guess it was a good thing I didn’t take my orders from him. Stretching my neck from side to side, I knew today would be hellishly long, and not even mostly because of the lack of sleep—no, because of the lack of Trinity.
No call or text from Rix had to mean he’d learned nothing. But he would bring her home safe. He had to.
When had I started trusting him? The question rolled through my brain as I cleaned my brushes and laid them out to dry.
He makes you feel safe. When has that ever happened before?
Never.
I’D HEARD NOTHING FROM RIX all day. I sold paintings to customers and checked my phone every few minutes, just to make sure it hadn’t mysteriously turned off or something. But no, it was functioning normally, and Rix still hadn’t contacted me.
My finger hovered over the contact he’d added in my phone, but I didn’t call. Calling was too intimate. A text, maybe? This was the debate I’d been having with myself for hours.
I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to know something.
VALENTINA: Any news? Please say you have news.
VALENTINA: This is Valentina, by the way. Hi.
I fired off the messages without thinking, and then when I read them, I felt like a moron. God, it was probably a good thing I’d never, ever try sexting because I’d probably be the absolute worst at that too.
I stared at my phone for a full two minutes—based on the Salvador Dali melting clock ticking away on my desk—and got no response. Gritting my teeth, I tossed the phone down on the blotter and walked away.
Two feet. That’s as far as I got before it buzzed.
I spun around and grabbed it like it might grow legs and walk away before I could read the response.
RIX: No.
VALENTINA: Give me something. Anything. Where is she?
RIX: I’m coming to you.
What? He was coming here? Shit.
I glanced at the clock again. It was too early for me to close up shop and go home, so he had to be coming here. But I didn’t have time to think about anything further, or about what it might be like to have Rix in my gallery, because the repaired chime sounded and the man himself walked through the front door.