Page 93 of Sweet Lies

It’s then I realize I’m shaking.

“I don’t regret it.” I need him to know that.

“I know. Elijah is going to come down in a moment, then Logan and I are going to get started with the clean-up. When I get back, we’re going to talk. Youwillbe there when I get back.”

“Or what?” I challenge, but it comes out weak to my own ears.

“I’ll have to hunt you down,” he says and laughs, kissing the top of my head.

“That could be our thing,” I mumble.

“It could. Could be kind of hot.”

I laugh; I’ve forgotten all about the shoes.

“Rebecca?”

Elijah’s voice breaks into our little world, and I wait for Andre’s hands to drop. Instead, he keeps them where they are, and we turn to face Elijah.

“I’ve called the clean-up crew; they’ll be here shortly. Logan is saying whatever he wants to say to the useless fuck upstairs.”

Andre nods. “I’ll give him a few seconds, then get started.”

Elijah nods, staring at his hands on my body, and I know he’s fighting with what to say next. Instead, he says nothing. He just nods and walks outside.

“Well, I still have my hands,” Andre mutters.

“Hell is freezing over.”

“That it is. You need to go before he changes his mind and adds me to the body count.”

I would laugh, but it was still a possibility.

I feel colder when I step out of his arms, but I know it’s time to leave. I try not to think of the bodies as I step over them. They made their beds, and there’s nothing that can be done for them now.

I open the passenger door and slide into the warm car. Elijah, knowing I have no desire to speak, stays silent on the ride back.

We look at each other before exiting the car and stepping through the front door. Claire must have been pacing by the front door for a while, because when we enter, she appears exhausted. She dashes forward and throws her arms around me. Then her arm extends out and pulls Elijah forward.

“Must we do this?” he asks, and I hear a million emotions in this sentence.

“Yes,” I say.

“We must,” Claire adds at the same time.

“Let’s drop this family bonding moment before any more of my men see,” Elijah mumbles, breaking free of Claire’s hold, and heading out of the room. I’m not so lucky, now both her hands are free.

“I’m happy you’re okay. I…I can’t lose you again,” she whispers, and I hear her voice crack.

“You won’t,” I promise, feeling the same about them.

She asks, “Does that mean you’re going to stay?”

“Depends how Elijah feels, I guess.”

Claire laughs, finally breaking the hug. “Let’s not play coy. We both know his answer.”

Elijah reenters the room with three glasses. “I think we all deserve a drink or twelve.”

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