All the Pretty Lies
Page 19
Dad pumps his hand a few times and responds in his gruff way. “I remember. As for this mess, some as**ole with a death wish decided to push his luck.” And just like that, all the anger is back. Dad starts pacing, cursing under his breath. “And where the hell is your brother? He should’ve been back by now.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask Hemi since Dad’s off on another rant.
“You left your phone at the shop. I figured you’d need it.”
He hands me my phone, his fingers lingering over mine before he lets it go. “Seriously, are you okay?”
I smile. “I’m fine. Actually, I feel kinda sorry for the guys who did this. They really have no idea what kind of shit storm they just brought down on their heads.”
“Sloane, this isn’t funny. It’s very serious. What if you’d been here? What if you’d been five minutes earlier coming home?”
I can see both worry and irritation in his eyes. “But I wasn’t.”
“But you could’ve been,” he argues.
“See, Sloane?” Dad gripes from behind me. “Even Homey has a better head on his shoulders.”
My face burns like a thousand flames and I squeeze my eyes shut. But Hemi laughs. “Thank you, sir,” he replies lightly before turning back to me. “Maybe you should come and stay with me tonight.”
I’m both astonished and impressed that he would suggest such a thing in front of my father. Dad stomps back to us, not stopping until he’s nearly chest to chest with Hemi. My stomach flutters with pride and pleasure when Hemi doesn’t retreat. Not one inch.
“Just what the hell are you up to, young man?”
Hemi remains completely unflustered in the face of my father’s fury, replying calmly, “Offering her a safe place to stay, sir. My spare bedroom. I’m not convinced this is the best place for her right now.”
“I don’t give a shit what you’re convinced of, son, she’s my daughter and I’ll see to her safety like I have for the last twenty years.”
“Twenty-one,” I pipe up automatically.
Dad grunts and I see Hemi’s lips twitch as he suppresses a grin.
“I’m not saying you can’t keep her safe. I’m just saying that a situation like this is hard for anyone to control. She’s not being targeted, but she’s obviously in danger. And even if she were the focus, no one would think to look for her at my place. It’s just a precaution. I’m just thinking about what’s best for Sloane. Nothing more.”
“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 as**ole 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.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Hemi since Dad’s off on another rant.
“You left your phone at the shop. I figured you’d need it.”
He hands me my phone, his fingers lingering over mine before he lets it go. “Seriously, are you okay?”
I smile. “I’m fine. Actually, I feel kinda sorry for the guys who did this. They really have no idea what kind of shit storm they just brought down on their heads.”
“Sloane, this isn’t funny. It’s very serious. What if you’d been here? What if you’d been five minutes earlier coming home?”
I can see both worry and irritation in his eyes. “But I wasn’t.”
“But you could’ve been,” he argues.
“See, Sloane?” Dad gripes from behind me. “Even Homey has a better head on his shoulders.”
My face burns like a thousand flames and I squeeze my eyes shut. But Hemi laughs. “Thank you, sir,” he replies lightly before turning back to me. “Maybe you should come and stay with me tonight.”
I’m both astonished and impressed that he would suggest such a thing in front of my father. Dad stomps back to us, not stopping until he’s nearly chest to chest with Hemi. My stomach flutters with pride and pleasure when Hemi doesn’t retreat. Not one inch.
“Just what the hell are you up to, young man?”
Hemi remains completely unflustered in the face of my father’s fury, replying calmly, “Offering her a safe place to stay, sir. My spare bedroom. I’m not convinced this is the best place for her right now.”
“I don’t give a shit what you’re convinced of, son, she’s my daughter and I’ll see to her safety like I have for the last twenty years.”
“Twenty-one,” I pipe up automatically.
Dad grunts and I see Hemi’s lips twitch as he suppresses a grin.
“I’m not saying you can’t keep her safe. I’m just saying that a situation like this is hard for anyone to control. She’s not being targeted, but she’s obviously in danger. And even if she were the focus, no one would think to look for her at my place. It’s just a precaution. I’m just thinking about what’s best for Sloane. Nothing more.”
“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 as**ole 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.
