Page 25 of Addicted Lies

“My bar. Be here in twenty. I’ll call Hawke.” Eli hangs up.

Billie mouths the word wow then says, “Good to see my cousin is straight to the point as usual.” She yawns. The location appears on my screen, and I gauge the time it’ll take to drop Billie off and reach him. “Oh, and I got a new apartment. It’s really nice. You should visit sometime,” she adds as she leans her head against the window.

I side-eye her and watch as she passes out immediately. She looks peaceful.

I consider how easily she spoke with me tonight as if there’s no barrier between us. That me picking her up from a drunken night out is as normal as any other night. She comes to my house for sex. That’s all it’s ever been. But tonight, when her phone cut out, I panicked. And I don’t like that lack of control. Billie is not someone I can control; she never has been. She’s a free spirit in every sense, besides the overprotectiveness her brother shackles her in.

But a small part of me thinks maybe she’s feeling too at ease with me when I’m the last person she should consider a companion of any kind. She has no idea how much better than me she is. The world is at her fingertips, and someone like me will only weigh her down.

Yet I can’t help myself from pulling into a service station to purchase cat food, an electrolyte drink, and pain killers because she’s going to need them when she wakes. I am at her mercy, beck and call.

When I return to the car, she’s snoring. Not elegantly but like a train. The cat’s ear twitches and it opens one groggy eye as if wary of me, but then goes back to sleep, just like its savior. That little fucker got comfortable real quick.

I pull into my driveway, turn off the car, and then go around to open her door, catching her head before she falls out. I shake her once. Then twice. Dear God, she sleeps like the dead. I awkwardly lift her out of the car. And although she’s passed out and deadweight in my arms, she clings to the box, the kitten hissing at me like a gnarly little fucker.

“I will defang you,” I tell him, which surprisingly has him taking a step back in the box.

After I get us inside the house, I carry her to my room and lay her on my bed, tucking her under the blanket. The kitten is beside her, and I’m still majorly pissed he somehow made his way in here. A small part of me considers putting the little fucker on the street where he belongs, but I’d never admit openly that I’m not that much of a monster.

I know what it’s like to be abandoned and then to be given a new home and family. I just hope by tomorrow, he flees or Billie decides to find him a proper home.

I take a seat beside her, watching as she sleeps, fixated on her soft features. For all her wit, spite, and fire, Billie is one of the kindest women I’ve met. It might not be obvious on the surface, but she couldn’t be a more polar opposite to my demons.

Demons that I’m about to exploit again after only working with Eli a few hours ago. Whatever’s happened in that time must be bad.

I tuck a piece of Billie’s hair behind her ear. It’s strange to have her in my bed like this. And I wonder if she’ll regret it tomorrow. I need to put distance between us, but I’m not entirely sure I’m capable of doing that. So, at the very least, I need her to understand that this is only sex.

I’m not the hero who saves the day and picks her up when she’s drunk. I’m the feral fucking cat hissing in the alleyway. Hunting and always finding my prey. I can’t let her be my next target. She can’t be my next vice.

CHAPTER 10

Ford

It’s four in the morning when I arrive at Eli’s bar, Lucy’s, and Hawke pulls in just behind me. Eli’s already waiting out front, and his wife, Jewel, is with him. He doesn’t often bring her into his business dealings, so I wonder if this interrupted whatever they might’ve been doing.

I don’t ask about the blood seeping through the back of his shirt. Since meeting Jewel, the fucker’s had a fixation with her carving into his back and other parts of his body. I don’t care about other people’s kinks; mine isn’t exactly normal either, but he’s not even trying to hide it.

“Sorry I missed your call,” Hawke says, throwing an arm over my shoulder. He holds up two fingers. “I was entertaining two women and had to wrap it up quickly when Eli called.”

Eli nods to us as we approach. “And next time, I’d rather you not answer while you’re still fucking,” he says, though it’s certainly not the first time any of us have called Hawke when he’s mid-fuck. He seems to never have the common sense to stop or just not answer.

“It was exciting to hear your two-pump wonder over the phone, though,” Jewel teases as we go inside.

Hawke laughs, putting a hand to his chest. “It’s called multitasking. What about you? What were you doing?” he asks me.

I ignore him and instead focus on the dead body on the floor beside the bar.

“What happened?” I ask Eli. He’s staring at the body of one of his security guys and the empty glass resting near his hand.

“I received a call thirty minutes ago from one of my other security guys. It happened just before last call, and they shut down and hustled everyone out straight after. I’m having someone look into what happened, but I suspect he’s been poisoned.”

Likely so with the white foam coating his mouth. His eyes are open, and I crouch down to get a better look. Although poisons aren’t my specialty, Anya certainly had us study various ways to kill people. Poison being one of them, and had us microdose as teenagers. Our mother has unorthodox practices, but I’m certain she has her reasons for it. It would appear it might finally come in handy.

“Do you think this was a targeted attack or coincidence?” Jewel asks, and it’s refreshing that we don’t have to pretend around Eli’s wife. She’s a hitwoman who is equally as dangerous as any of us.

But we all know we never leave anything to chance.

“Hate to stereotype, but poison is usually a woman’s weapon,” Hawke says, raising his hands in the air. My brother and his fat mouth. But he’s not wrong. “Maybe old mate here pissed her off.”

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