Deceived (Burned Book 2) Page 13

  What kind of person did that make me? Cruel? Evil? Maybe. But I never wavered, never hesitated to indicate each and every lie Terrance allowed to slip free.

  We all had to die sometime.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The rain fell in sheets, obscuring the lights along the street. It beat the pavement, the dull roar punctuated by the roll of thunder in the distance.

  "Of course," I mumbled, realizing I'd forgotten my umbrella. The foyer of the courthouse was icy cold, but dry. My heavy sigh echoed in the empty corridor and I rested my forehead on the cool glass. Since it was an hour past closing, almost everyone had left the building. Security was around somewhere, wandering the halls during rounds. If I found one of them, they could probably find an umbrella in the lost and found to lend me, but it just seemed like too much effort. I stood against the transparent barrier from the rain, unwilling to move, to relinquish my few scant moments of freedom to return to my gilded cage.

  Freedom from the eyes, the judgment. The accusatory glances.

  But I was never really free.

  "Arabella." His soothing voice was a balm to my fractured heart. My eyes darted to his and I got lost in the brilliant cobalt orbs as his hand pressed the middle of my back. Its warmth was comforting, solid. A piece of reality in my otherwise unreal world.

  I was adrift, lost. I ached for an anchor.

  "Zak." Smiling for the first time in what felt like weeks, the muscles of my face protested the movement. I felt rusty, empty, used.

  Ever observant, his warm eyes clouded with worry. "Is everything okay?"

  His kindness was my undoing. I fought to hold the tears at bay, but they shimmered in my eyes, admitting what I couldn't. My throat seized closed with the effort, rendering me unable to speak. All I could do was shake my head. My red curls bobbed with the movement, the silky strands brushing my face in a comforting caress.

  "Why don't we go somewhere and talk?" Shaking open his blue umbrella, he held the rain back long enough to reach his Expedition. The gray SUV blended into the dullness of the rainy city.

  I slid into the cool leather seats. The unique scent of new car invaded my senses. Cold air blasted through the vents and the stirring sounds of Big Mama burst from the stereo. The soul-wrenching lyrics filled the car, echoing the turmoil that tightened my chest and pressed against my shoulders. Zak wrenched the dials, turning down both as he pulled the car into the mostly deserted street.

  "Where to?"

  How did I answer that when I didn't even know?

  My place wasn't safe. From the moment I hit the block surrounding my building I was watched. Security cameras and sharp-eyed employees scrutinized my every movement, reporting anything unusual to Alejandro.

  Kyra was persona non grata. Her place was vacant from what I'd heard, ransacked while she had been out of state. All her belongings had been trashed. Once the House members sent to find her had failed, Alejandro turned to bounty-hunters. Although it wasn't a kill order, Alejandro wanted the pleasure of killing her himself. She was nowhere; it was like she'd vanished from the face of the earth.

  Tanya was entangled in her own drama, more likely to whine about her boyfriend than be of any real comfort. Sarah, sensing any vulnerability, would use the situation to her advantage. I likened her to a hyena, picking up scraps until it was her moment to strike. She wanted more than just my position in Alejandro's company.

  I didn't have any other friends. It was sad, really.

  Daniel was liked by everyone in the House. Speculation surrounding his disappearance was rampant. People moved around me with caution. They stared at me with either accusation, or hesitant sympathy, like they were waiting for me to lose it.

  A laugh wrenched itself from my lips. I felt close to that—losing it. It would be so easy.

  Where to?

  The question, so simple, echoed loudly in my mind.

  "Ari?" Zak glanced over, concern deepening the v between his brows.

  I shook myself from my morose musings and blurted out the first thing that felt right.

  "Where do you live?"

  His eyes widened and he cleared his throat before he answered.

  Zak lived in the suburbs of south Tampa, not even fifteen minutes away with the light traffic from the rain. I used that time to pull myself back together, regain some of my control.

  It was the weather, I mused. Rain tended to bring my emotions closer to the surface. My feelings were raw, tender like carpet-burned elbows after wrestling with my siblings.

  Zak's house was a typical Florida stucco with a terracotta barrel tile roof and an over-sized single car garage. I was surprised when he parked inside. I'd never seen a garage that wasn't overflowing with storage. His was neat, organized. A workbench rested against the back wall, each tool in its place. A stacked washer and dryer sat in the laundry area next to it.

  "Through here." He gestured to a door which opened into his kitchen, the gleaming stainless steel appliances modern but missing the cold feel of mine. It felt inviting, warm even, with the simple yellow walls and white cabinets. It had a lived-in feel while mine, tasteful and designed by a professional, left me tense and almost nauseous despite its pristine beauty.

  Keys clattered together as he hung them on a hook on the wall. I observed each movement, learning more about him with every second.

  "Want a drink?" He ducked his head inside the fridge. The sound of clinking bottles was loud in the silence.

  "Sure."

  "Is beer okay?"

  I didn't even remember the last time I'd had a beer. College maybe. My life had been fine wine and premium liqueur since.

  "That's fine."

  "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. The living room is through the arch."

  Uncomfortable and stiff, I moved where he gestured, flicking a light switch on the other side of the wall arch. The welcomed light revealed an open-concept living-dining combo bathed in soft browns and greens. Masculine but not rough, tidy like everything I'd seen so far, but not sterile.

  "You're neater than I expected," I said as he walked into the room, two open bottles of beer in his hands. An unfamiliar green label peeked between his fingers.

  "What, you were expecting pizza boxes strewn throughout? Piles of dirty clothes covering every horizontal surface?" His crooked smile caused the first butterflies to stir.

  My laughter came out sounding forced because of it. "I guess I was expecting the typical bachelor pad."

  "An organized space is indicative of an organized mind," he paraphrased.

  "Oh really?"

  "Or so I've heard." His chuckle wrapped around my insides. The rest of the butterflies took flight. "I see clients in my home office sometimes. All it took was one unexpected client to change my habits."

  "I see." I took a hesitant sip of beer, unsure what I was going to end up with. I hated watery beer, preferring a deeper full-bodied flavor. I liked to taste the hops. "This is good," I mumbled. I took a larger drink, enjoying the almost citrus overtones.

  "I hate beer that tastes like piss," he admitted.

  A startled laugh broke free, essentially dissolving any lingering awkwardness.

  He sat next to me on the couch, close but far enough away to not crowd me. "Ari, what's going on?" he gently prodded.

  I did the unthinkable. I told him.

  The words spilled from my lips like the rain outside. Once I started, I couldn't seem to stop. My voice shaking, I told him about Daniel's death. I left out all the preternatural parts, skirting around those the best I was able. But I revealed Alejandro's involvement and Kyra's excommunication.

  He let me speak, not interrupting once. I almost forgot he was there as I stared at the pattern on the green, brown, and white rug, the words flowing in a steady stream. I purged all the things that I'd been unable to say to anyone else.

  After the last word died on my lips we sat together in silence. I marveled at how much lighter I felt. A burden was lifted, even if it was temporary. I breath
ed in a full cleansing breath, one that had been difficult with the constant tight band of stress cinching my chest.

  "We need to go to the police."

  I laughed. It was a bitter sound. Empty.

  Of course he would think that. Police. He owned the police.

  "See that's the thing." My eyes met his as I took another swig of my beer, my dry throat thankful for the cool liquid after talking for so long. My hand trembled visibly as what I had done started to sink in. "We can't."

  My eyes begged him to understand. "Daniel used to joke around, comparing Alejandro and his cronies to the mob." I shrugged, shame heating my cheeks. "Alejandro is a-a powerful man. Very powerful. Daniel wasn't far off the mark with the comparison."

  Disbelief clouded his features. His sharp mind was picking apart everything he'd learned, putting the pieces back together like a puzzle. But this wasn't a game.

  He opened his mouth, ready to protest, to rationalize the unreasonable. I waved my hand, cutting off whatever protest was about to fall from his lips.

  "Alejandro has men inside the police. If we reported this, it would do nothing other than piss him off. Then I'd be on the run like Kyra, or dead like—" My voice broke. I took another swig of my beer.

  "No one is that powerful."

  My dry laugh rang out, devoid of humor. I'd been in Alejandro's world so long, I'd forgotten that people could be this naïve.

  "Alejandro has people in key places in his pocket: politicians, police…" I laughed again, the bitter sound corrosive, "lawyers." I swiped at tears that had sneaked past my vigilant watch.

  I watched as he realized the gravity of my situation. It crept into his eyes. I held my breath waiting for the condemnation that would follow.

  Condemnation that never came.

  His eyes, swimming with sympathy and understanding, stayed intent on mine. "You weren't kidding. It is complicated."

  A smile slipped through at his attempt to dispel the tension. "Told you so."

  He leaned forward. His hands cradled my face between his palms. The butterflies returned full-force and my heart picked up speed. I stared, mesmerized at the silver flecks that swam in his irises as he eased nearer, close enough that his breath feathered against my skin.

  His warm mouth brushed against mine, once, twice. A gentle meeting of lips that asked nothing in return, but gave everything. Gathering me in his arms, he pulled me close. His embrace calmed my trembling. For a moment, he shared my burden, my worries. A short span of time that meant everything to someone who had lost so much.

  "I can't—" I choked on the words. Fear closed my throat at the thought of losing more, losing him.

  "I'm not sorry." He stared deep into my eyes. His gaze sure and strong. "I know things are complicated, but I meant what I said. Regardless of your circumstances, I'm here for you. But I won't hide what I feel. I won't lie. Not to you."

  He had no idea how much that meant to me, the truth. It was my weakness, my drug. I craved honesty. "I shouldn't—"

  "You need someone. You can't carry all this alone. No one can."

  "But I put you in danger. Just being near you is dangerous. I didn't—"

  "I'm glad you came to me."

  "You won't be if he finds out," I spat. "When he finds out." The fear that stabbed through my heart was all too real, too familiar. It turned my blood to ice. "I shouldn't be here."

  "This is exactly where you should be and you know it."

  I did. From the moment the words escaped me in front of the courthouse, I knew that it was the right thing to say.

  "Is there any way you can leave?"

  My laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. "There is only one way out. I'll let you guess what that is."

  Stricken, his eyes were bright with fear.

  "Don't worry." I smoothed my thumbs along the deepening lines in his forehead. "I know what I need to do to stay under the radar." I voiced the gnawing feeling in my stomach. "I won't hold it against you if I don't see you again. Being my friend seems to be dangerous at the moment."

  "I'm not sure even the threat of death could keep me away from you at this point." His sigh was thick and heavy. It filled the room. "I don't want to send you back there. Back to him."

  My eyes roamed the plains of his skin. Searching, but finding nothing.

  It was the truth.

  I leaned into his embrace, savoring his warmth as it seeped into my skin and thawed the ice that had built over a lifetime of disappointments. Of lies.

  Reluctant to return, I held onto him longer than I should have. The hours ticked by as we talked on the couch. The conversation was easy, light.

  Yawning, I glanced at my phone to check the time. Two missed calls. The simple number listed under the time had my pulse racing.

  "He called?"

  I nodded, forming excuses in my head for my absence. There's no question he'd ask. Alejandro did not like being ignored.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I buried my head in Zak's shoulder. My lips rested against his pulse. I took comfort in the steady beat and inhaled his scent. Warm and clean, with a hint of his spicy aftershave. So different from the cold, almost stale and sterile scent that I associated with Alejandro.

  "Thank you for everything," I mumbled into his skin. "Can you take me back to my car?"

  He frowned, but held back the words. He knew asking me to stay was out of the question. His reluctant nod and pinched lips were louder than if he'd spoken.

  The drive back to the courthouse parking lot was silent, each of us lost in our own thoughts. He stopped behind my Jag.

  I opened his door, the sudden glare from the dome blinding. Worry and sadness filled his eyes, but he said nothing, knowing it would just make things more painful.

  His fingers brushed mine. His thumb traced circles on my palm, reluctant to let me go. I ached to stay, to slip back into his car, into his arms, and drive away.

  But it wouldn't do either of us any good. I'd signed my fate away long ago.

  I swallowed my pain. I gathered myself, dragged my confident persona back into place. "I'll be fine." I straightened my spine, willing myself to believe my own words. "Really, I'll be fine." I repeated when he only stared at me, an ache I couldn't answer in his eyes.

  "Can you text me?"

  I took his offered phone and programmed in my number. A sad smile broke free as I returned his phone.

  "Who's Kat Stratford?" he asked after glancing at my contact info.

  "A character from 10 Things I Hate About You." A light film of tears blurred my vision. I refused to let them fall. "Daniel liked to change my ring tones or replace my contacts with characters from movies." My lips stretched into a wobbly smile. I turned my screen so he could see his entry in my phone. "You're Patrick Verona, Heath Ledger's character."

  "I'm sorry he's gone. He seemed like a great guy."

  "He was. He really was." I cleared my throat and walked away. The click of my heels echoed on the wet pavement. The rain had spent itself hours ago.

  Sliding into the warm leather seat of my Jag, I smoothed my hand over the soft buttery material. I started the sleek vehicle, taking solace in the rich growl of the engine. My heart was lighter after my unexpected purge, but the solace was temporary. The tension returned as I passed under each stoplight, tightening my shoulders as I headed back toward the lion's den. I ran through the various excuses I could use for my absence.

  How long could I keep up the facade before I shattered?

  Chapter Nineteen

  "I won the case!" Tanya threw herself onto the chair beside me as I returned all my files into my briefcase.

  "The Chicory suit?" I was only partially paying attention to her.

  "Yes!" I cringed as she practically screamed it in my ear.

  "That's great." My briefcase snapped shut. I stood and stretched my stiff legs, the skirt of my dress pulled tight with the movement. "You should celebrate." And I should slip into my comfy pink pajamas that Daniel gave me for my birthday last year. Th
ey were soft and covered in hot pink lips. He'd thought they were hilarious.

  "Exactly! Let's go!" Tanya squealed. "That dress looks great, you don't even have to change. I have this great scarf that will accent it perfectly."

  "Wait. What?" We were obviously having two different conversations. Mine involved Buffy, my pajamas, and a pint of ice cream. I wasn't sure what hers involved.

  "Drinks. Dancing. Celebrating my big win." Her face fell as she realized I was nowhere near her level of enthusiasm. "You're not coming?" Her lips turned down in a pout.

  "I'm just not in the mood—"

  "Daniel's dead, not you." Her sharp eyes narrowed in on me like a hawk with prey in its sights. Tanya might be a little flighty, but she wasn't stupid. She was a top attorney at the same prestigious company as me after all, and a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom. And all one hundred and twenty-five pounds of that force were zeroed in on me.

  "I know it's hard, but you can't keep shutting yourself away in your condo, night after night eating pints of ice cream. There is a point of no return; you can only spend so much time in the gym shedding those extra calories." She softened the blow that her words inflicted by resting her hand on mine. "Come on. Alcohol and sick moves on the dance floor with some hot guys? It's like therapy, only better."

  "Except the hangover in the morning," I mumbled. She knew I was going to cave.

  "It's Friday! You can sleep in tomorrow."

  "Sure, why not?"

  "Yes!" She jumped up and down, her ear-splitting squeals already making me regret agreeing.

  "And why are we so excited?" a familiar voice grated behind me. I struggled not to roll my eyes as Tanya brought Sarah up to speed… and invited her along.

  Great. I officially should have said no.

  The music at the club was loud, a brutal assault on the ears that would last until the next day at least. But after a few shots, I didn't care. Tanya was right, I wasn't living. With Daniel's absence I should be living enough for both of us instead of wasting away in my room.