Page 53 of Hell of a Mess
“Good morning, Lace!” Jayda said with exaggerated enthusiasm that was meant to get our attention.
My gaze swung to see her walking into the kitchen. Damn, she was beautiful. The bruising on her face was fading, and theswelling was gone. It seemed like, every day, the woman got more breathtaking. Which sucked for me because I liked pretty things. With cunts.
Stevie instantly began chattering about Maui’s new trick and was telling Lace to watch. I tore my gaze off her before Linc got ideas in his head and started in on her moving again. I was done with that conversation.
“Get her to talk,” Linc said under his breath. “Then she goes to Mal’s.”
I ignored his comment.
“Two boiled eggs and berries with whipped cream?” Jayda asked her.
I turned my head back in her direction to watch her respond.
She hesitated, then glanced at me before nodding. “Yes, please.”
“Add a slice of buttered toast,” I told Jayda, and Lace tensed but only for a moment.
“Why are you ordering her food?” Linc asked me accusingly.
“She has food issues,” I whispered, giving him a pointed look.
He wanted to ask more. I could see it on his face, but he didn’t.
My plans today had changed, it seemed. When I’d left my room, I had made up my mind to stay the hell away from Lace. But we needed her to explain her father’s insistence that she was someone else. And I sure as fuck wasn’t letting anyone drill her with questions.
“You can sit, Lace,” I told her when she didn’t make a move toward the table. “Linc is harmless.”
She glanced warily at him, then back at me, and I gave her a reassuring nod. As if there were fucking strings attached to her and I was the one holding them, she came over and sat down, still looking at me, as if waiting on my cue as to what to do next. She was an obedient little thing. It was hot, but the reasons why she was so obedient were messing with my head. I wantedanswers about her life. Even though I already knew I wasn’t going to like them.
Twenty-Two
Lace
It had been easier to finish my breakfast once Linc left the room. I felt as if he was judging my every move. The buttered toast was really good, and as long as Luther was sitting there, watching me, I could eat it and enjoy it. He’d seemed so pleased that I almost asked for another piece.
My sunken mood from his leaving my room last night took a complete turn for the better when Luther told me we were going to the stables. They had horses, which I’d expected since I knew that the Louisiana branch of the Mafia were big into thoroughbred racing. Wayon had talked about it often.
Getting to go anywhere with Luther meant more time with him. I couldn’t think of anywhere I wouldn’t want to go with him.
“I’m assuming you ride,” he said, glancing from the road to me as he drove his truck back farther onto their property.
I nodded. “Yes.”
I did, but not often. Alpheus had made sure I was taught both on English and Western saddle when I was growing up. But unlike my sister, I was never given a horse. Dalia had had three of them by the time she was six.
“When your ribs are healed we can take a ride out to the edge of the property line. There’s a creek down there.”
More time with him. In the future. I liked the way it sounded.
“That sounds nice…but I’ve never ridden a thoroughbred.” However, if it meant more time with Luther, I would deal with it.
He smirked as he looked back at the road. “We don’t keep the thoroughbreds here. Just have a few quarters.”
Oh. Well, those weren’t intimidating. I smiled, relieved.
“I hadn’t mentioned the thoroughbreds,” he said. “How’d you know about those?”
“Wayon, he told me about them. And Alpheus placed bets on several of the Davidon’s horses,” I replied. “I figured all of the Southern Mafia were probably a part of the thoroughbred racing life.”
