Page 89 of Twisted Revelations

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Luke

Beverly had grown unusually quiet. I prayed I hadn’t freaked her out with the two bodies I’d placed in the trunk. I’d gotten Gavin to call in a tow we could trust in this area to pick up the SUV and destroy it. However, after D and Dax’s updates on the way Laura and Beverly handled danger and death, I was positive she’d be okay.

Of all people, I was not the go-to guy for pep talks or therapy. However, for Beverly, I’d try.

“I apologize if my actions frightened you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I ... I just want to get back to work and be normal again. Living a lifestyle on the run from a deadly cartel has been stressful. Scary. I wish these people would just leave us alone,” she stated losing her voice in her emotions.

I sat my hand atop hers, noticing the slight tremble in her body. “You will be fine. I won’t leave you until I know you’re safe. You will get your life back. I promise.”

She nodded, biting into her bottom lip.

“Thank you, Luke. I hope you know that we don’t take your help for granted.”

I squeezed her hand. “I know.”

Turned out, the hardest part of our talk was letting go of her hand. It was so soft, warm, and alive against mine. I’d dealt in so much death throughout my life a live human touch was foreign.

Beverly’s touch intoxicated me. It was genuine and caused sparks of warmth and excitement to course through me, fast-moving currents that rose up and made me high. Her touch was turning into something I craved. Wanted. Needed.

Dax’s AMG G6 Mercedes wasn’t out front, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t there. His BMW I’d driven had sustained serious damage, and although I’d offer to pay for the repairs, I already knew he’d shrug it off. He was the only man I knew that changed cars as often as he changed shirts.

My phone pinged a text from Dax telling me to drive around the right side of a huge two-story mansion. As we edged around the side, a large garage sat waiting with one of the six doors open.

I spun the vehicle around the wide, paved driveway and backed into the garage. Dax and Laura stood waiting, their faces fixed with deep scowls of concern. They’d argued like a married couple on the plane, but I think it was a front. They’d been playful with each other at Ansel’s. Also, the way and how often Dax stared after Laura told a different story.

Dax was at Beverly’s door, assisting her from the car before I could. I opened the back door, reached in and grabbed her bag. A deep smile creased my face at the sight of Laura wrapped tightly around Beverly. The women were as close as sisters, like how I was with the guys. It was a side of this situation I enjoyed witnessing.

It wasn’t until I opened the trunk Laura let go of Beverly, who’d been talking low into her ear, relaying to her the type of drama she’d faced.

She remained in place near the door to the inside of the house as Laura and Dax crept to the back of the car, lured closer by their morbid curiosity.

“They look like fucked up mummies,” Laura’s words bounced off the trunk. She leaned in, bending to within a foot of the dead men for a better view.

She glared at me. “So, Richie Rich had me helping him to set up that spa like we were putting a condom on it. He says you’re about to perform magic.”

Richie Rich?

My gaze traveled to Dax’s. If he’d revealed to her what I did to people, I was even more convinced there was something going on between them. The fact she was supposed to be gay was apparently a nonfactor.

I needed to get the task of taking care of the bodies out of the way, but there was something more important that called louder. Beverly. I left the two body-gawkers where they stood and approached her. I switched her bag to my right hand and placed my left on her lower back to usher her forward before opening the door.

“Dax?” I called back to capture his attention.

“This way,” Dax stated walking ahead of us. We followed as Laura lagged behind us. When we entered the house, the foyer led into a large kitchen that resembled something off Food Network. I took in the stainless steel, black granite countertops, and gleaming smoke-gray marble floors. The large and darkened recessed area undoubtedly led into a formal dining room.

Next came the side view of the living room. Sparkling gold marble floors gleamed under our feet and introduced a royal-palace style theme. Cream, white, and gold furnishing accented by fine leather and crystal fixtures and a massive chandelier dangling from the ceiling.

The lamps standing between the sofa and adjourning love seats were two life-size statues of goddesses holding up large glass bowls that housed the lights. The furnishings gleamed with intricately placed gold finishes. A wide set of skylights sat over a painting from some long dead and famous artist as three wide windows filled the adjacent wall. The luxurious setup was breathtaking, although expected of anything Dax was associated with.

“There are no attendants because it’s not set to open for another month. We are the first guest. A bed and breakfast,” he informed answering a few of my questions. “I called in a favor for them to clear up a few rooms and stock the kitchen.”

I nodded my response to Dax, but my attention was on Beverly. I liked it better when she was making me talk. This more subdued version had me afraid I’d erased the connection I hoped would grow stronger between us.

When Dax sprang the door to the upstairs bedroom open, I noticed it wasn’t a room at all. It was a suite with a sitting area, a kitchenette, and a raised area for the bedroom. Mine and Beverly’s bags were sitting by the door.

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