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Beneath These Lies

Page 20

by Meghan March


  Eight hours packed with customers and sales later, there was still no word from Rix, and I was frustrated by the silence. I wanted to celebrate this amazing day, and I wanted him to celebrate with me. I understood that much of his world would never exist for me, but at times like this, I felt completely in the dark.

  But that didn’t mean I couldn’t tempt him to finish whatever he was doing by sending a helpful text. I flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED and considered my alternatives.

  According to Rix, I had an unseen man watching over me, so I fearlessly walked the streets toward a club on Bourbon Street that I knew would be packed with tourists even at this hour. The chances of me seeing a single familiar face were slim to none. I sent the text as I settled onto one of the few free bar stools.

  The text included three pieces of information. Where I was, the fact that I wasn’t wearing panties, and how badly I wanted him inside me right now.

  If that couldn’t shake the man loose, I didn’t know what could.

  Several tough-looking guys filled the bar, and I surreptitiously glanced over them, wondering which one was my babysitter for the evening.

  What if I didn’t have any? What if I was riding on a false sense of security and completely vulnerable to Rix’s enemies?

  No, this was where trust came in. He could assess whatever threats were out there better than I ever could, and I absolutely trusted he wouldn’t leave me unprotected against something he could prevent.

  Still, I kept my guard up.

  I was nearing the end of my first margarita when a prickle of awareness skittered over my skin. Tossing my heavy hair over my shoulder, I looked to my right. Dark, tattooed arms leaned against the bar.

  “Can I buy you another drink?”

  Rix’s deep voice wrapped around me like rough silk.

  “I don’t usually let strangers buy me drinks.”

  One dark eyebrow went up at the word strangers. Yep, I wanted to play, and he got the message loud and clear.

  “Then I guess that makes you a pretty smart lady, because most strangers are just trying to get you liquored up so they can cop a feel in an alley and take you back to their hotel.”

  Pushing my empty glass forward, I met his gaze. “But not you?”

  Rix signaled to the bartender, and he appeared within seconds. Nothing like the five minutes it had taken me to get service when I’d first sat down. “Another margarita for the lady, and I’ll take a double shot of Patrón.”

  He didn’t respond until the drinks were in front of us and he’d slid a large bill to the bartender.

  “I already know what’s gonna happen, so there’s no trying involved,” he said.

  “Is that right?” My tone was flirty and full of challenge as I accepted the margarita on the rocks he offered up. The sweet liquid hit my tongue. “Do I look like a sure thing to you?”

  Rix knocked back his shot and set the glass on the table behind him. Turning my bar stool to face him, he slid between my legs. My skirt inched up my thighs. The movement had me hyperaware of my lack-of-panties situation. The hand that landed on my knee and slid up under my skirt kicked my awareness into extreme need. I drank deeply, draining half my glass.

  The beat of club music thumped around us while tourists partied and laughed, paying no mind to what we were doing. It made me bold, made me want him to touch me in ways I shouldn’t want to be touched in public. I thought of the enclosed booth last night, and how if I’d been bolder, I would have grabbed his hand and pushed it under my skirt and let him touch me while we watched the erotic scene onstage instead of luring him into a storeroom.

  Heat slicked my center, and I wanted him to feel how wet I was for him even now. One more gulp and I finished my drink. Liquid courage coursing through my veins with the need, I scooted forward on my bar stool, my legs spreading further around his knees, and Rix’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he slid his hand higher.

  “You tempt a man, duchess.”

  “Good thing he’s the man I want to tempt.”

  His fingers were within an inch of where I wanted them, but still he didn’t touch me. The bartender’s voice interrupted, but I didn’t move.

  “Another round?”

  “Yes.” Rix reached his free hand into his pocket and tossed a bill on the bar top. He used the movement to get closer, and I bit my lip as one finger slid across my slit and stroked.

  Silver fire flashed in Rix’s eyes, and I wondered if mine sparked darkly. I wanted him. Needed to feel him.

  When the bartender returned with our drinks, Rix nodded to the money. “We’re all set.”

  He ignored his shot as he handed me my drink.

  “You’re never gonna think of margaritas again and not remember how I finger fucked your tight little cunt until you came against my hand,” he whispered in my ear.

  I took a sip, willing my hand not to shake as he slid a finger inside me.

  Oh God. I tightened my grip on the glass as he teased me, thrusting his finger in and pulling it out.

  “Is that right?” I murmured, trying to sound saucy, when what I was truly doing was fighting to keep my hips from grinding into his touch.

  “That’s right. I’m gonna have you biting that lip as you come, trying to keep from crying out, before you finish that drink.”

  That’s when Rix’s thumb joined the action, finding my clit.

  All the noise in the bar was drowned out by the blood pulsing in my ears. My field of vision shrank to only Rix, and every sensation swirling through my body centered on his touch. My orgasm was quick, intense, and blinding.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, slammed my glass to the bar, and gripped his arm. My nails dug in, but I couldn’t loosen my hold. My lip stung as my teeth pressed down. I willed myself not to cry out, and almost lost the battle when he thrust again and pressed.

  Pleasure licking at every inch of my insides, I tugged at his arm, a silent plea that I’d had enough and any more would make me a public spectacle. Rix mercifully pulled his hand free from between my legs. In the shafts of neon coming from the club lights in the ceiling, the skin of his fingertips glistened. From me.

  Instead of wiping it away, Rix sucked his finger and thumb clean.

  “You ready?” he asked, as if I hadn’t just watched one of the most erotic acts of my life.

  All I could do was nod. I’d come in ready to play, and the game had been turned on me in the best way possible.

  Rix led me out of the bar, his hand on my lower back. Johnny was parked on a side street two blocks away in the Escalade. When Rix opened the door and then followed me inside, the SUV rolled forward. Around and around we drove until apparently Johnny was sure there was no one following us. This time, he pulled alongside the curb in front of my house.

  I looked to Rix, and the expression on his face told me he wasn’t coming inside.

  “I got some work to finish up and I’ll be back.”

  “What kind of work?” The question was out before I could stop it. I knew I wasn’t getting an answer. Heck, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted an answer.

  Rix’s expression was guarded. “Just work. I’ll be back when I can.”

  “I interrupted you.” Guilt lanced through me, but I wouldn’t give back this last hour for anything.

  “You’re never an interruption.” His words were clearly a lie.

  “Why did you come if you were busy? You didn’t need to.”

  Rix lifted a hand to my face. “If my woman says she’s drinking alone, I’m not the kind of man to leave her to it.”

  “Still—”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back soon.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips before reaching past me and opening the door. “Don’t wait up.”

  “Be safe,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his cheek. I had no idea what he was going out to do, but I was sure of one thing. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t.”

  I could only hope he was right.r />
  DRUGS. MONEY. GUNS. THEY’D BEEN my world for years, but I was ready to get out. Valentina wasn’t the kind of woman I could keep while doing what I did, and I wasn’t willing to let her go. What I could let go of was drugs, money, and guns. But when you were as bound up in the game as I was, nothing was ever simple.

  Johnny and I rolled on the warehouse where I had a meet set up. Hennessy was still sniffing around, looking for evidence that his brother wasn’t dirty. I’d offered up a reward for the wire tape, and wouldn’t you know it, money talked.

  I was getting my hands on it today, from another employee of the NOPD, ironically enough. In this world, no one and nothing were ever what or who they seemed to be. The good guys weren’t all good and the bad guys weren’t all bad. Just one more lesson about life.

  And why the fuck was I getting philosophical? I was here to get something Hennessy wanted, and then I was going to warn him off Valentina once and for all.

  The warehouse was dark and quiet when I walked in. Abandoned twenty years ago after a main Mardi Gras parade route change, the old brick building still held random pieces of broken floats that had never been moved. It was very NOLA.

  Gregory Herman waited inside, arms crossed, wearing thick-rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes. From the way he was jumping at every sound, he had to be hopped up on something, because there was no way he could be that nervous. Could he? A tech nerd at the precinct for less than a year, according to my sources, he didn’t do much fieldwork, but he was a savant when it came to computers and surveillance and all that shit.

  Johnny was at my back as I approached Herman. “You alone?” I asked. I hadn’t taken the time to search the building, but that was the other thing that could have him so jumpy. “Because if you ain’t, you and whoever you brought are going to have a rather unpleasant evening.”

  He shook his head violently, almost dislodging his glasses. Resettling them on his nose, he stuttered, “N-n-no, sir. Just me. I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing.”

  “Because you’re breaking the law and could end up in jail for doing this yourself.”

  I wanted to make sure the consequences were clear to him before I handed over the money. I didn’t get the set-up vibe from him either.

  “I guess. I mean, it’s just a file. It’s no big deal.”

  His lack of remorse would be troubling to his superiors, but it was fine by me.

  “Exactly. And you’re getting a decent bonus for your assistance. No harm, no foul.”

  Herman nodded. “Right. Exactly.”

  “So let’s hear it.”

  “Hear it?” he asked.

  “The recording.” At his confused expression, I added, “Did you think I’d pay for shit before I heard it? You could be scammin’ me, Herman, although I think you’re too nice a guy to be trying that.”

  “I swear I’m not. It’s all here. I thought you’d want to listen to it in private. I mean, this could be big stuff. I don’t recognize the voices, so I’m not much help.”

  “We’re listening to it now, and then we’ll both be on with our day.”

  “Oh, okay. I guess that’s fine.” He pulled a USB drive out of his pocket. “Do you have a computer?”

  Taking it from Herman, I turned to Johnny. He already had the laptop out and open in his hands. I slid the USB drive into place, found the file, and hit PLAY.

  Static was all I heard at first, and then a conversation started.

  “I told you I’m done.”

  “And I told you I’m not. We’ve got at least three or four more runs before I’m going to be ready to call it quits.”

  “You’re taking a lot of fucking chances, Hennessy.”

  Well, fuck. We listened to the end of the recording, even though I didn’t need to hear any more to have my answers.

  I held out a hand and Johnny placed an envelope in it.

  “For your good work,” I said.

  Herman grabbed the envelope and folded it in half before shoving it in his pants pocket. “Guess I’ll be on my way.”

  “You do that.”

  He left the warehouse, and I waited several long moments before my curse echoed through the room.

  Fuck. As much as Hennessy was pissing me the fuck off right now with his dogged determination to get my woman, I didn’t want this for him. This wasn’t the kind of news I wanted to deliver to any person. It also wasn’t something I was going to keep from him.

  “Let’s roll,” I said to Johnny before we turned to leave the warehouse. A shuffling sound caught my attention before we got too far. We both drew our guns in the direction of the noise before taking another step.

  “Come out or you’re dead.” My tone was casual, but my words weren’t.

  D-Rock materialized from the shadows.

  “What the fuck are you doing back in town?” I demanded, lowering my piece.

  He was lucky I didn’t shoot him instead. He was supposed to be laid up in his aunt’s guest room, not allowed to step foot in Louisiana again without my express permission. His recklessness had cost people their lives, and had caused me a huge pain in the ass.

  “I needed to talk to you.”

  “That’s what phones are for, genius.”

  “Nah, man. I needed to get back here. Gotta see my girl.”

  “Your girl is done with you. Most women don’t appreciate getting kidnapped and staying kidnapped for a week, and on top of that, they’re not big fans of being rescued by people who aren’t their man.”

  “But I—”

  “All you did was start a war. You need to get the fuck out of town before you cause me more trouble. Told you I didn’t want to see your face anytime soon.”

  “But Trinity—”

  “Is fucking going to art school, and she doesn’t need a gangbanger like you to fuck with her life any more than you already have. The girl is bright. She’s going places. You’re not what she needs.”

  D-Rock’s face twisted into an ugly scowl. “Ain’t that the pot callin’ the kettle? Fuck, you’re so far up that rich bitch’s ass, you can’t even see that you’re fuckin’ draggin’ her down like you’re accusing me of doin’ to Trinity.” He laughed bitterly. “You’re a gangbanger and she’s practically fuckin’ royalty. You’ve got no business touchin’ her, but you don’t seem to get that, do you? What do you think is gonna happen with you two? You’re gonna move into her fancy digs and live happily ever after?”

  If my gun were still drawn, I would have been tempted to pull the trigger to shut him up. “None of that shit you spewed is any of your goddamned business, so I suggest you buy yourself a bus ticket and get back to Bumfuck where I sent you, and wait until you’re called.”

  D-Rock’s face twisted with rage. “You don’t get to fuckin’ tell me what to do. I’m not some punk kid anymore, Rix. I’ve paid my dues. I get a say.”

  I stalked toward him. Enough was enough. “You don’t get a say unless I tell you you do. You’re still a punk kid because you can’t make a damn decision without putting what you want first. You need to grow the fuck up before you get yourself killed. Or before I kill you.”

  “Fuck you, Rix.”

  Enough of this little fucker. I closed the distance separating us and grabbed him by the throat, lifted him off his feet, and walked forward until his back slammed into the concrete wall. If my crew didn’t respect me, then they weren’t part of the crew any longer. Because he was a stupid fuck, I’d given him more chances than he deserved, but this was his last.

  “You ever talk like that to me again, I will fuckin’ kill you with my bare hands. I won’t waste a bullet on your sorry piece-of-shit brain because you’ve wasted too much already. You’re done with the girl. No need to explain. I’ll take care of that shit. And if you talk about my woman again, you’ll wish you were dead long before I get around to ending you.”

  And I meant every single fucking word of it. My hands weren’t clean. But in my world, the ends justified the means, and I got shit done.
A few more steps, and I could walk out on this life.

  I could already taste the sweetness of freedom on the other side. Not long now.

  D-Rock gurgled against my hold, and I shook him hard.

  “You get me?”

  He nodded with jerking movements before I lowered him to his feet.

  “Do not test me again. This is your last chance. Now, get the fuck out of my sight.”

  He fixed his shirt and glared at me. All his thoughts showed on his face, but he was smart enough not to open his mouth.

  “I’m gone,” he spat, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the warehouse.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here, Johnny. This place is pissing me off.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  THE PRESS OF THE MASK on my face brought me right back to earlier this week. Rix. The club. It was everything I could do not to shiver when I remembered the storage room.

  Tonight’s purpose was much more mundane, but still worthy. My mother had helped organize a masquerade at the New Orleans Museum of Art to raise money for a new children’s art program that was to be offered to any city resident under the age of fourteen at no cost. A noble cause, and one I couldn’t turn down given my own passion for the arts, even if my mother hadn’t co-chaired the committee.

  I thought of little girls like Trinity. When I’d first met her at twelve and she’d been assigned as the Little to my Big, she’d been quiet and shy. Pulling words from her had been like pulling teeth. But when I’d brought out art supplies on a whim, she’d blossomed. I wanted that for all the other kids out there who might not otherwise discover a talent and become the next George Rodrigue with his famous blue dogs.

  Tying my mask a little tighter, I stared into the mirror and laughed at the irony of an event to raise money for children but didn’t include a single child. No, tonight NOMA was full of glittering dresses and expensively cut suits with deep pockets. A silent auction of certain donated pieces was being held to raise funds on top of the hefty price of a ticket.

  I stepped out of the ladies’ room and began circling the ballroom, searching for my parents. I knew plenty of other people in attendance, although the masks hid the identities well enough that I wasn’t able to place many of them.

 

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