Page 65 of Lust
The bedroom was simple. A double bed. A bedside table. A wall covered in evidence from an investigation. Pictures, notes, reports, red string leading from one pinned piece of evidence to another. It was like a murder board from the station, but instead of dead bodies and suspects, the pictures showed Liza’s family tree. Joe had been tracking them for years. Since Evan’s power was triggered. She stepped closer for a better look, but Joe continued to rip down everything like a man possessed.
“Stop,” she said, and tried to take his hand, but a manic demon had taken hold of his body. He ripped through everything like it was going to kill him, and he wanted to get to it first. She latched onto his forearm, halting him. “Have you been investigating my family?”
Two pained eyes met hers. His jaw clenched.
She stepped back. Puzzle pieces started to connect. “This is why you came back to town. This is why Parker told me to be careful with you. Is this why you...” The memory of the two of them on at the rooftop pool hit, and betrayal flared in her gut. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the burn. “This is why they chose you. It’s all so you could get closer to my family. It’s why you’ve been with me.”
“No.” His voice came out a harsh bark.
Papers and pictures fluttered to the ground. He took her face between his palms. “Look at me, Liza.”
She shook her head.
This was what she was talking about. This was why she never put her heart on the line. It was inevitable, this hurt. It was always going to come for her. Destiny. She was so stupid to think she’d caught a break. That the fate she’d been resigned to her entire life wasn’t real. That maybe there was another road for her.
But Liza was born for one thing only. To kill lust.
Joe’s thumbs scraped her cheeks. “Please, look at me.”
20
When Joe watchedLiza’s eyes open, there was no affection, no love, only the cold bleak stare of an enemy. It settled on him like the suffocating weight of his worst nightmare.
It choked him, blocked words in his throat. He’d already told his director that his report was delayed, but after hearing Liza’s words, knowing the Syndicate killed indiscriminately to get the supplies they needed, that they were creating clones of the Lazarus siblings and wanted to unleash evil… it was inconceivable, but the very possible end to the world.
And Liza and her family were the only ones standing in their way.
He wanted to tell her that she was everything to him. That he’d been stupid to ever believe she, or her family, could be evil. But the words wouldn’t come. Nothing was good enough. She looked at him as though he were the villain, and it broke him.
“Liza.” He shook his head, struggling to explain.
I’m not going to investigate you.
I’ll investigate them.
I lov—
A punch to his face sent a shockwave through his system. Pain exploded in his jaw. Vision blurred. Black dots swam before his eyes. He reeled to the side, coughed out the pain, and then worked his jaw to test its function. Rallying his senses, he straightened and leveled his gaze on her.
Her bleakness had been replaced with electric anger. Fists flexed at her side and, for a split second, Joe thought she might actually kill him. He was a loose end, a threat to the survival of her family.
She struck. He blocked.
Goddamn, she wasstrong. The fact he fought back incensed her. Joe could see it in her eyes. All she wanted was to pulverize him, and he would let her. If it made her feel better, if it made her understand the depths of his feelings, he would let her grind him to a pulp.
“You’ve hated my family since the beginning.” She shoved him.
His back hit the wall. “That’s not true.”
“Don’tfuckinglie to me, Joey.”
There was no reasoning with her, she came at him again. A fist hammered into his gut. A knee cleaved toward his groin. He caught the strike on his thigh with a wince. With a quick twist, he shifted out of the kill zone against the wall but didn’t get far. She came at him again. He didn’t want to hurt her but had to protect himself. He gave a tactical one-two jab. She dodged effortlessly.
“I never hated all of you.” He escaped a fist to his face. “Never you.”
Somehow that was the wrong thing to say. An animalistic growl ripped out of her, and she launched, catching him around the middle and propelling them onto his bed. Then it was all hits and blocks. A backhand to his face. He elbowed her jaw. Long brown hair whipped like corporal punishment. A harpy’s scream, and then they grappled. They rolled. He had the surreal sense he should be in worse pain, that she pulled her punches. Sheallowedhim to touch her. She knew every weakness he projected, but still ached for love so hard, she welcomed his attention, even if it was pain.
It was the hope in her eyes dying a slow death. It gave him scores of insight. She’d never had physical affection from a lover. She’d always avoided touch from the opposite sex in case it led to arousal and inevitable pain. This tough wall she erected was her line of defense.
