Not crazy. She’d been honest with him. A kind of joy filled his chest.
And then Sir Kendall came out. He didn’t go to the end of the porch; he simply stepped forward and leaned on one of the pillars at the top of the porch steps, leaned there with that confident, debonair Sir Kendall attitude.
No.
Paul jumped out of the truck and moved across the gravelly expanse, as if in a dream. He climbed the porch steps to face Sir Kendall, whose blue eyes danced with cool amusement.
This man was not a lunatic. Not a plastic surgery victim. He was actually Sir Kendall: the embodiment of Paul’s childhood pain and terror, lovechild of Gene and Gary’s sadism brought to life.
Ice filled Paul’s veins.
“She told me your vehicle was being delivered.” Sir Kendall’s lip quirked in a half-smile. “I daresay it suits you.”
Paul just stared. Sir Kendall. In the flesh.
“And I’ll want my Beretta back before you leave, old chap.”
It took every shred of his will to keep from lunging at the man and…what? Punch him? Kill him? What did you do with a black hole of darkness?
“Like hell,” Paul grated out.
Casually, Sir Kendall said, “I will have it back. You can’t win, you know.” And then he turned his head and smiled.
At Alix.
He wished she could’ve heard that. How did she not see what he was?
Alix smiled at Sir Kendall. She had her heels planted on the painted planks and was pushing the swing back and forth, hair mussed, one pink bra strap loose over her shoulder. She flicked her gaze to Paul, smugly savoring the moment, as though it was all a great joke. Her smile contained a note of triumph, but it was sunny and conspiratorial, too—a smile that said, Can you even believe it? Can you EVEN? As though she and Paul were in on a grand secret together. As though the world itself was some magnificent game, and they had just witnessed a doozy of a play.
Lord, she was beautiful. His dread increased ten-fold.
He turned to Sir Kendall. “You hurt her, you hurt one hair on her head, and I will end you. Understand?”
Sir Kendall looked amused. “You’ll never end me, old man.”
“Watch me.” Paul turned and went to her, footsteps hollow on the white wood, heart surging with warmth for her and the terrifying knowledge of her vulnerability. He wanted to hold her, protect her, kiss her, stay with her.
She stood as he approached, smile replaced with a strange glow.
“Alix,” he said in a strangled voice. He had to make her understand the danger. He couldn’t let Sir Kendall destroy her.
“What, Paul?”
“We need to talk.” He shoved a hand into his hair. Christ, he needed to pull himself together. He needed to seem sane.
A voice from behind. “By all means, let me give you some privacy.” Sir Kendall hopped down and headed for the truck.
Paul lowered his voice. “Alix, you have no idea what you’re dealing with here—”
The glow left her face. “I think things should be pretty clear at this point. You saw the truck appear, right? Could you freaking believe it?”
“Alix,” Paul whispered. “This is bad.”
“I know. You see, now, why I didn’t want you to order people?”
“He can’t be here.”
She crossed her hands over her chest. “Yet he is.”
Paul followed her gaze out to where Sir Kendall circled the truck.
“Great,” she whispered. “Lord knows what he’s going to make of the stuff in there.”
“I don’t care what he makes of it.”
“Paul…” she paused, seeming sad. “If this were under different circumstances, us meeting up again...reconnecting with you. I get that you wanted to help. Under any other circumstances…”
He could barely process what she was saying; the danger was too extreme. “That really is Sir Kendall,” he said.
“I know. I thought he’d disappear, the way he does in the commercials, but he didn’t. He’s stuck in this world where he has no ability to make a life for himself. Zero understanding of the culture. I brought him to life, stupidly—I know—but I made a vow to help him.” She seemed to expect Paul to be impressed by this.
“Alix, you don’t know what he’s capable of. That is Sir Kendall. Trust me, he could be evil.”
“Is he evil in the ads?”
“This isn’t about the ads,” Paul said.
“But it is. You totally don’t get it. Paul, he’s the Denali man. What does the Denali man do? Does he get spots out with detergent? No. The Denali man does three things: romances, spies, and drinks. That’s what we’ve got here. The magic is WISIWYG, okay? What-you-see-is-what-you-get. The magic gives you what’s in the picture. He’s just the Denali man.”
“He’s not just anything. Look how he heals. Is that normal?”
“It’s a spy thing.”
“No.”
“Paul.” A warning tone had crept into her voice. “I’m handling this, and you have to respect that. The only problem with Sir Kendall is that drinking Denali, romancing, and spying is all he’s got in life. I’ll bet you anything he’s out there scanning your truck for clues about the evil Mr. Hyko spy organization. He thinks he’s in this whole spy drama.”
“Mr. Hyko?”
“Hyko is like his enemy, who he thinks cloned him. Who you work for, apparently. You’re the clone, by the way.” Faint amusement passed over her features.
Paul stared at her, dumbfounded. “He thinks I’m a clone?”
“It’s not funny, though, I know.” She lowered her arms and her bracelets jingled into a clump. “I brought him into this life, and I need to help him learn how to live as a human. It’s not what I want to do, but sometimes in life you have to let the mistakes you make harden your resolve.”
“No, we’ll do this together. He’s more my responsibility than you can imagine.”
“You thought he was a psycho ‘til five minutes ago.”
“And now I know the truth. And I know you can’t help him.” Something in her gaze flared. He’d hit a nerve. “Look, nobody can help Sir Kendall. The man is beyond help.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“Oh, yes I do. I know he’s a threat. He needs to be gotten rid of.”
Alix formed her lips into a little frown that made her cheekbones more prominent. “I think you’re more of a threat. To him.”
“We have to get rid of him, neutralize him…” Paul gazed out at Sir Kendall, who stood in the back of the truck now, staring back at Paul.
“Nobody’s getting neutralized You said you’d be gone, and you need to honor that.”
Paul turned to Alix. He’d face her square on while he broke his word; it was the least he could do. “Change of plans. I can’t think of a better place to train than right here. So you know what? I’m staying in your house while we sort this out. You have a lot of rooms. Tonio and I will train right here. In your carriage house.”
Alix gaped at him. “You gave your word.”
He swallowed. “And now I’m breaking it. Tonio and I will clean out the carriage house and train in it for the time being. You said you were dreading cleaning it out, right? We’ll clean it and set up in there.”
“You can’t stay here. You have some fabulous parting gifts that will allow you to go anywhere you please—”
“We’re staying here. Actually, Tonio will probably want to stay at the Riverside, but I’m staying here.”
“No way.”
He steeled himself. He’d lose her now for sure, but it was the only way to keep her safe. Like all bullies, Gary and Gene had been cowards. If Sir Kendall had anything of Gary and Gene in him, then Paul’s presence would be a deterrent. “You don’t have a choice because if you don’t let me stay, I’ll tell Sir Kendall he’s a fictional nobody with a fantasy for a life, and I’ll take your computer, too. Are we clear?”
She stared bullets at him, anger bright as her hair. “Mayb
e I’ll call the sheriff.”
“Go for it. I’m sure he’ll be incredibly impressed by Sir Kendall.”
Paul could see her mind working. He knew he had her boxed in. The opposite of Mrs. Gordon’s finding common ground bit.
“Look, I’m on your side,” he tried. “I’ll keep your secret about his identity, play along with the charade until this thing is figured out. I’ll even let him think I’m a clone, okay? But what I won’t do, Alix, is leave you alone out here in the middle of nowhere with him. I’m your guest now, and if he stays in line, I stay in line.”
She intensified her stare of anger, something he wouldn’t have imagined possible a moment before. “Until this whole thing is figured out,” she said. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He didn’t know. He knew only that the anger in her gaze seared his soul.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
She stomped inside wishing she could slam the door, but it was too messed up for that. Thanks to Paul. She grabbed a cola from the fridge.
Jerkwad!
She ripped open the tab. For about five minutes, she’d actually been saddened by the idea of Paul leaving. She’d considered inviting him to come back and stay for free once the place was up and running, once Sir Kendall was on his feet.
On his feet. Was it possible? Was she being stupid?
If only Paul could be her ally. She didn’t want to be alone in this thing, but you couldn’t help a person when you automatically thought he was evil.
And now he was staying which made her relieved and happy and annoyed all at the same time. She felt so confused.
And there had been that moment—that moment when Paul had come walking down the porch to where she sat on the swing. His eyes looked so wild in his bandaged, beaten-up face, alive and magnificent, with a kind of passion or primal fury; she didn’t know what it was, but she’d felt called to stand for it. She’d had this weird sense that he was a tornado, and that he might kiss her…and that she might kiss him back. She’d stood there stupidly, pulse racing as he came to her, wanting him like crazy.
And suddenly it was Hardass Paul all over again. Seeing right into her. Finding her lacking. I know you can’t help him.
Alix flopped down on the couch on the side that didn’t have broken slats, bracelets jingling. He thought he could just move in?
He could. He held all the cards.
Uh! She swigged her soda. As if she were some overgrown child. Fine. Let him stay. She’d make him regret it.
Tonio strolled in from the back, carrying Lindy’s ring toy, Lindy trailing close behind. He was a good guy, that Tonio.
She managed a smile. “I think you’re Lindy’s new hero.”
He ruffled Lindy’s scruffy neck. While they were occupying Sir Kendall out back, she’d learned Tonio was infatuated with Missy Fancher, whose parents ran the Riverside Motel. It had been so cute, how he’d pumped her for information about Missy. She wished she’d had more to give him.
“What’s the game plan?” Tonio asked.
She stared at the ceiling. “You’re going to want to talk to your friend about that.”
“Hmm,” he said in the pleasant way he had. He left out the front.
She sipped her soda and stewed.
Finally, Sir Kendall came in. He slid gracefully onto the couch next to her. It was amazing the way he could move in such a cat-like way. The spy. He smiled, blue eyes under dusky brows. “Everything okay?”
“So-so. Anything else happen out there?”
“I daresay, Paul’s method of transporting funds is a bit on the bizarre side. The back of that truck is filled with bundled bills.”
“The clone’s got challenges,” she said. “Do you think it was real money?”
“Pity we don’t have a sample.” He tilted his hips up and pulled a fifty-dollar bill from his pocket. “My word, what’s this?”
“Nick!”
He held it up to the light, examined it from several angles, and pronounced it authentic. “That was easily a million, you know. Bundles of fifties. I quite frankly cannot imagine what series of events could ever lead to a decision to transport money like that. Were they in such a hurry to get the truck to Paul? Did he say anything?”
“Not about the money,” Alix said. “But I do have bad news. It seems I’m going to have to let him stay here for a bit.”
“Really.”
She sipped her soda, then glanced over to find Sir Kendall watching her intensely.
“I know it probably seems weird to you,” she offered. “Paul’s going to take a room here temporarily. Tonio’ll stay at the Riverside Motel. Basically, Paul and Tonio want to commandeer the carriage house for training. Martial arts training.”
“Surely they have access to better training facilities than your carriage house.”
“I’ll say. It’s full of sixty years of junk. They could buy their own goddamn gym with all that money. Which is what I told him. If I had my way, they’d be gone.”
“Why can’t you have your way?”
“Because apparently, Paul is a jerk and a jackass. For starters.” And she still liked him. And some idiotic little part of her was so excited he’d be staying.
“Yet you own this house.”
“It’s complicated,” she said.
Silence. Then Sir Kendall said, “I could take care of him, if you like.”
“No!” She sat up, horrified.
He smiled, eyes twinkling. Joking, then. Of course.
“That’s not funny. Don’t even joke about that kind of thing.”
“Okay, then. But I don’t understand. You can’t simply tell him to leave?”
Alix’s stomach clenched. “I can’t really talk about it.”
“You can with me,” Sir Kendall said.
“I can’t. I’m so sorry, Nick. Just know, he’s assured me he won’t bother us, and he really shouldn’t be a problem if we leave him be. Just pretend this is a real bed and breakfast, and he’s just another guest.”
“I gather he has some form of leverage, then.”
She nodded. It was the truth, after all.
He watched her eyes—she felt like he was looking through her. “His leverage relates to me?”
Shit. Alix tried to transform her look of surprise into a questioning face. “To you? Why would it relate to you? Please, it’s just about certain mistakes I’ve made.” She tried to imagine how the whole thing struck him. Why would Sir Kendall’s clone have leverage on her? It was too confusing to sort out.
“Is the threat something he’ll do or something he’ll tell? Surely you can say that much.”
“Please don’t ask me any more questions. Can you accept for now that this is ultimately in your best interests as well as mine?’
He looked intrigued. “You’d swear to that?”
“I would absolutely swear to it. Absolutely.”
He studied her face with new energy—his gaze seemed to intensify, and she noted just the shadow of a smile. Did he believe her, then?
Paul and Tonio took off soon after that—for supplies—in their new throatily-roaring monster truck.
A half-an-hour later they were back.
Paul barged into the kitchen, where she and Sir Kendall were making tea. He was still wearing the bandage her mother had put on his brow that morning, and his eye seemed even puffier. The bruise on his cheekbone looked worse, too, as did his fat lip. “We’ve got a hauler from the next town over with us,” Paul said. “Is it okay if he pulls his truck around back?”
“Fine,” she said coldly.
“You want to make some decisions on what to keep?”
“I’ve been through most of it.” She leaned on the counter next to Sir Kendall, who put his arm around her. Paul’s gaze hardened. Good. She said, “If something looks special, put it aside. I’ll trust your judgment. In this.”
Paul stared at them with his blue, not-twinkly eyes. Paul and Sir Kendall shared a handsome baby face, but Paul’s was more diam
ond-like in intensity; even his cheekbones looked more defined, whereas Sir Kendall had a relaxed, devil-may-care look going. What the hell was between them?
“If I see something that seems valuable, I’ll put it aside.” With that, Paul left.
Sir Kendall returned to his project of making cucumber sandwiches, apparently an English dish. He cut the skin off the cucumber and cut the crusts off the bread, so that each sandwich was a dainty square the size of a small cracker. Sir Kendall seemed to enjoy cooking, and she thought that maybe they could take a cooking class together. Maybe Sir Kendall could become a chef and open an upper-crust English restaurant. And he could wear tuxedos every night to greet the diners. He’d like that. She engaged him in talk about different foods and the exotic locales in which he’d dined, but it wasn’t easy to ignore the laughter, shouting, and banging coming from out back. And Sir Kendall seemed distant.
After lunch, he announced he’d do work on his computer in his room. What on earth could he have to do on a computer?
She had to get the hell out of the house and think. She clapped for Lindy, who came bounding. “Go on a hike, girl? Go on a hike?” She grabbed her jacket from the coat hook and contemplated the spot where she and Sir Kendall had so often fucked in her fantasies. Her mind went to Paul on the porch that afternoon—the wild way he’d come to her, as though on fire, strangely beautiful through his beaten-up, bandaged-up face. She’d stood for it.
Stood for him.
She’d risen up to meet him, that had been her sense. Like a magical recognition.
Lindy whined, waiting. Alix scratched the dog’s ears, and they headed out the front, all the better to avoid Paul.
Though she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She’d loved hanging around with Paul at the party. Joking with him. And the way he teased her was pretty funny. One word, Alix, he’d said. She’d known exactly where he was going with that. And, The real thing drinks beer. Oh, Mr. Puma Reinhardt was slightly arrogant about her having chosen his look-alike to order. It was completely sexy. Why did have to treat her like such an incompetent?
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