Page 43 of Professional Liar
Sixteen
Pierce
The second shewalked out the door, I yearned to call her back. Fold her in my arms and force her to tell me what was wrong. Since I pulled her to her feet in front of three bullets, she’d been off. And I could feel her pushing me away from the bedroom. I stood in the doorway and listened to her talk to her sister. The soft scuff of the bedding hitting the wall surprised me. When nothing came crashing through a window, I gave her the privacy she deserved.
But after I went to get her, and as she walked out of the house, she’d been distant, cold and hard, and all the things I remembered from before we married. It hurt to see it again. Last night, she’d taken my declaration of love, but didn’t say it back. We had the rest of our lives for her to do so, no reason to rush her and ruin the fragile thing between us.
I dressed quickly and joined the guys. “These might be from the family with the weapons,” I said, turning the bullets over in my hand. They were clean of any residue or smudge marks. I doubted there’d be any fingerprints. Not as if we’d take them to the police for verification anyway.
Gerry lined them up evenly on the edge of the granite and leaned down to peer at them. I followed him down, trying to see what he could, but they simply looked like bullets to me.
I waited for him to speak, but as usual, I’d have to pry it out of him. “Anything?
He shook his head and stood.
“That’s helpful,” I told him. I didn’t like anything about this situation. This war with the Italians, and most of all, I didn’t like Kat at the heart of it. The rational part of me knew she’d need to make a stand. Declare her control and then be ready to back it up. We’d be ready to back it up.
I wondered what the families did in the old days to take care of uprisings. Probably slaughtered whole groups and threw them in the river. Once upon a time, the Italians garnered a reputation for being ruthless. Then they acquired money, and suddenly, legitimacy colored their interactions. Now they were known more for their fashion sense and connections outside of their little group.
“Where did Kat go?” Gerry asked. Specifically, not talking about how she’d snapped at Fox when they’d left.
“Lawyer and her father’s house, she said. Fox told me the same as they made the trip. I think they are headed back here, but I don’t want to text her to find out.” Neither of us finished the thought.
They returned a half hour later, and I shipped the boys back up to the loft so she and I could talk properly. Fox slipped out the patio door and didn’t look back once.
“What is going on?” I asked, right to the point.
She sat her handbag gingerly on the table by the door and then her keys next to it before looking up at me. The woman I’d held in my arms last night was gone. Her eyes were glazed over, a layer of ice in them as she peered at me. “Nothing at all. The lawyer is taking care of the paperwork, so I can finish the transfer of my inheritance. I also picked up the paperwork for my father’s house. I’ll probably sell it, but I don’t have time right now.”
She twisted her hair up, pinned it, and slipped her shoes off.
I had to trail her into the kitchen. Maybe a different tactic would be a better choice. “Are you hungry? I could make you something. Or order in?”
She shrugged and poured a cup of coffee. I snagged the milk out of the fridge for her, but she raised the cup to her lips, leaving the coffee black, and eyed me over the rim. “What have you boys been up to?”
“Not much, trying to figure out where the box came from. Who sent it.”
“And did you make any progress?”
I shook my head and scrubbed my hand over it to keep from reaching out to her. “No, nothing yet. They are good at their jobs. They’ll find something to lead us there.”
She sat the cup on the counter and turned to face me, arms crossed under her breasts. “I know who sent it, and I intend to deal with it. Obviously the families. They are challenging my leadership and control. I need to make a statement showing them this sort of thing isn’t tolerated. It has to be brutal.”
I didn’t like the steely glint in her eye or the sharp bite of each word coming out of her mouth. “What do you plan to do?”
She patted my shoulder and brushed past toward the bedroom. “Don’t worry about it,” she called. “I’ll be taking care of it.”
I followed her into our room. “No, that’s not how this works. We do this together.”
The bedding had already been replaced, so she sat on the end and reached out her hands. I let out a gust of air, all relief, walking straight into her arms. She pressed her face to my lower belly and the rubbed her cheek there as she gripped my belt loops.
When her hands snaked around to my ass, I chuckled, cupping her neck. “Is that what you want?”
No answer, but her fingers skimmed down to the back of my thighs and squeezed. Something felt off about this. I pried her fingers away and crouched in front of the bed. “Talk to me, Baby Girl. What’s wrong?”
She swallowed, and I watched the effort it took for her to clear the emotion from her face. I reached out and pulled her cheeks forward. “No. Don’t do this.”
I dropped to my knees onto the carpet searching her eyes with mine. Looking for the soft beautiful women who cried in my arms last night. The same woman I knew loved me even if she refused to say the actual words. “Baby Girl…” Her nickname caught in my throat. My chest squeezed tight, and I could barely get a full inhale through me. My fingers tingled, and my entire body put me on edge to the danger. As if I could sit and witness her retreat right here in real time, and everything in me fought and railed against it.
