The Lies Between Us (The Devil's Dust #4)

“Your brother’s, right. I remember you saying something about that before,” he sneers. “You’re coming with me one way or another. I’ll tow this damn car with you in it if I have to, so just agree and make this easier on both of us.” I turn my head and look at the closed laundromat, my vision blurry, dizzy from dehydration. I do need help or this heat is going to kill me. He obviously isn’t going to hurt me or he would have last night. Maybe a little reprieve from this heat will help me figure out a new plan.

“Trust me,” he mutters, his voice rough. My eyes shoot to his, his words searing through my resolve. I want to walk away, but the energy coming from him, that magnetic pull I can’t seem to escape, has me stilled. I’m like a butterfly attracted to a warm light, a light that shows the path of possibility. Hopefully, that light doesn’t burn me in the end, and possibly turn me into ashes. I’m not sure I can take any more heartache.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll follow you to your house.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, a sharp pain stabs at my chest. I am going to get hurt in the end. I just know it. He obviously wants more, but I’ll eventually have to tell him about my daughter and he’ll want nothing to do with me. Then this fucking car and I will be alone again.

“I’ll have one of the guys come get it, take it to the club, and see about getting some AC in it or something.” He shrugs, walking back toward his bike.

I huff and follow him. I’m one who practices independence, but I’m not about to argue with air conditioning.

***

Even with the sun down, the air is still warm as it swims through my hair. Lip coming on so hard is not something I’m used to. It doesn’t help that he’s sexy as fuck, and sweet to boot. He has this alpha thing going on when he thinks he knows what’s best for me. Even though it’s irritating, it’s flattering that he cares so much.

Lip slows down as we turn into a suburban area, houses lining up and down the road. They aren’t magnificent ones like those you might pass in some of the areas in LA, but they are nice compared to what I’ve lived in. He idles up to a light blue, one-story house with the porch light on.

He presses a button on a garage door opener and the door slowly lifts, loud and cranking with all its might. Inside there are shelves lined with tools, and what looks like a stripped motorcycle sitting on cylinder blocks in the center. Lip puts his feet on the ground and walks the bike and us into the garage, the door closing behind us. Climbing off the bike, I pull the helmet off my head, setting it on the seat.

“Well, this is home,” Lip states. I smile and follow behind him as he opens a door leading into the house.

The house smells of clean laundry and looks smaller than the garage. I smirk; just like a guy, more garage than house.

There are little lights in the ceiling shining just enough on the hardwood floor as he leads me down a small corridor.

“That’s the kitchen.” Lip points to the right. The walls look to be a light brown, the cabinets white and matching the appliances. A small kitchen island with two barstools sits in the middle of the room.

The house curves to the left, and Lip leads me into a small living room. The walls are white and lined with paintings of older motorcycles in black and white. A large flat-screen sits on a small wooden entertainment center in front of a brown fluffy couch and chaise lounge.

“Bathroom.” Lip points to a small room right in front of us. It’s nothing special, just a tub and sink. “This is my room.” He points to the left of the bathroom. I peer in and see a big bed with blue and gray blankets, plus clothes and beer cans on the floor.

“You can stay in this room.” Lip gestures to the room sitting opposite of his, putting the bathroom between the two. I step into the room he appointed as mine and Lip turns on the light. A small, full-sized bed sits in the corner with a white comforter. A little white dresser resides in the opposite corner, and a red guitar is placed on the other side.

“You play?” I question.

Lip shrugs and leans against the doorframe.

“Eh, I try but I suck.” He laughs, and I smile. Seeing Lip play rocker would be a sight.

Awkward silence fills the area between us.

“Well, it’s late. You were sweating pretty hard when I found you, so you wanna shower and get some sleep?”

I run my hand over the fluffy white blanket sitting on the bed. I never had something so fluffy before. Growing up, I had an old quilt that used to be my mother’s.

“That sounds great, actually.”

“I’ll go get your things then.” Lip turns to leave and I fall on the bed with a deep sigh. It feels wrong to be here, in a guy’s house I hardly know. But the cold air conditioning, the clean blankets, and company? It’s amazing.