Page 47 of Sweet Lies

I turn my back on him and tell Ben to get rid of him before returning to the light and sounds of the club.

I let out a long breath, feeling better now I’m out of the dark basement. Ever since I was thrown into that car trunk, I can’t stand the dark. I have to sleep with a light on. That’s why I stay at the club later and later every night—to avoid the darkness. The excited voices and moans of loss, the sounds of the machines and cards being moved on the table all make me forget the dark places my mind can travel in a blink of an eye, for a moment at least.

As I pass one of the many blackjack tables, I sense a tingling down my spine. Glancing around, I try to figure out what orwhois causing the feeling.

Then I spot him, lurking in the corner for a second before he seems to float through the room.Son of a bitch. First Billy, now Andre.

I head toward the office, sensing him at my back. Once we’re inside, I close the door behind us.“It’s been a while, Bec,” he purrs, leaning against the door.He looks damn good in jeans and a long sleeve shirt that makes it clear he had not given up his exercise routine.

“Rebecca,” I correct harshly, distracting myself with some paper on my desk. The less I look at him, the better. He has a way of unnerving me with just his eyes. It’s been that way since we were children. There could be multiple conversations and events going on around me, but once I caught sight of him and his mesmerizing eyes, I’d be lost. It allowed me to escape from reality, dreaming of things that would never be.

“You’ll always be Bec to me,” he responds, taking a step forward.

I flinch and then curse myself. It’s not Andrethat’s caused it—I still don’t do as well as I’d like in confined spaces with men. Most days, I’m fine, but tonight’s events with Billy have thrown me for a loop, and I’ve yet to get my mind in order.

His eyes notice everything though, and he takes a step back, giving me more space. I should have left the door open. Andrewould never hurt me, but his size and nature cause me to travel to the past. To things that need to stay buried. I’ve been able to hide the darker parts of my past from my new friends. They see me as strong, and that’s how it needs to stay.

“What brings you into town?” I ask, my eyes returning to the papers.

”I’m looking for someone.”

My eyes roll at the lack of details. “What else is new? Who are you looking for?”

“Lorenzo Ricci. He’s been known to frequent your hall.”

I nod. “Yes, I’ve seen him around. You know I can’t give you any information on him? If word gets out that I snitched, the business will be hurt. People come here because they feel safe. They pay for that safety, and I won’t let your latest mark hurt my livelihood.”

“And if I were to tell you what he’s done to get on my list?” he proposes, raising an eyebrow.

“It wouldn’t change anything. Most of the people here aren’t innocent, including you and me. Money is money, as they say.”

“There was a time you felt differently.”

“A lot of things were different back then, including the fact that my way was paid for with blood money. Looking back, I shouldn’t have been as judgmental,” I snap, annoyed he’s bringing up the past.

He laughs. “True. I’ll stay out of here as much as I can then.”

“No, you’ll stay out of here, period,” I snap.

He takes a large step forward, but I’m prepared for the move and hold my ground this time.

“You’ve forgotten that you’re in the position you are because of me. I go where I want, when I want, and certainly don’t need your permission.”

“You do when it comes to my place of business,” I respond, placing my hands on my desk and facing him head-on.

“What are you going to do, Bec?” he asks, stepping to the edge of the desk. His scent overtakes my senses.

“I’ll have the bouncers keep you out,” I respond weakly, knowing the threat is useless. He’s capable of getting in and out of most places without issue; my refusal means nothing to him. If anything, it’s made things more interesting for him.

As expected, he laughs. “Good luck with that, Rebecca.”

His eyes linger on mine, and the air stands still.

I’ve missed you. The thought is overwhelming as he moves back, leaving as if he was never here. The only thing left is a slight smell of mint and fresh air before that too disappears.

* * *

The sounds stopped an hour ago. A few workers linger. Some have nowhere better to be, while others have the early shift in a couple of hours. This is my least favorite part of the workday. When everything is quiet and I’m left with my thoughts—the ghosts that come out of the shadows.

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