9

Laikyn

Living with a man I didn’t know was crazy.

Living with two men was weird.

That one of them was legally my husband … well, that made it bizarre.

Then again, that was the word I used to describe pretty much every aspect of the past two weeks. Sixteen full days of being married, and nearly every one I’d spent alone, only my thoughts and a sweet dog to keep me company.

I wish I could complain, but to be fair, I liked being alone. It didn’t happen often. I hadn’t felt quite this free in … well, probably not ever. It helped that I’d been avoiding my mother as well. I’d spent my days in the house while Rule and Jinx went out and did whatever the hell it was that they did. Some days, they were gone before I woke up and home after I’d called it a night. Others, they would linger a little longer in the mornings.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say we’d engaged in much conversation. Since it usually entailed me provoking one or both of them and finding a way to shift to the topic of sex, they were letting me dig my own hole. Problem was, when I wasn’t taunting Rule about sex, I wasn’t sure what to say to him. I hadn’t seen his other friends/employees since our wedding day. I hadn’t met anyone else either.

When I got bored, I watched television. When I got really bored, I did internet searches.

Imagine my surprise when I learned that Rule wasn’t as much of a ghost on the internet as he seemed to be in real life. In fact, he was famous. Or maybe infamous was a better word. On social media, he was portrayed as a unicorn—some sort of mythical creature with incredible abilities. People actually wanted to be him.

Granted, the Feds weren’t quite as enamored by him as the public. The FBI seemed to believe he was responsible for a lot, but they didn’t have solid proof of any particular crime. Everything was circumstantial. But they had enough interest to take note. Especially when the media—who referred to him as the Hollywood Fixer—caught wind of his association with various people. I had to wonder whether Rule was aware that he likely had a shadow or two when he was out and about.

Since he didn’t seem to be worried, I just absorbed what I found and moved on.

When I was seeking conversation, I spent it texting people. Most of the time, Jinx was my target because he would respond. Unless I talked about sex, then he ignored me. I figured he was respecting Rule and the fact that I was his wife. In my defense, I wasn’t necessarily coming on to Jinx. I mean, I was, but I was doing it to get a rise out of Rule.

Mostly.

I’d seen the way Rule looked at me, and he could pretend all day long that he didn’t want to fuck me, but it would be a lie. As for why he refused … well, I’d come up with a million possible scenarios: he was a eunuch; he had a disease; he couldn’t get it up; he preferred his hand. Sure, they were ludicrous, but when you gave a girl an unlimited amount of time, what else was she supposed to do but come up with crazy reasons a man didn’t want to fuck her? I mean, it would’ve been too easy to say he simply wasn’t attracted to me in that way.

And maybe he wasn’t. It was possible I’d imagined those heated stares. Possible but doubtful.

However, I didn’t spend all my time tormenting Jinx. I had blocked Wes’s number, but he got creative and sent a text from someone else’s phone. He started the thread by pleading for my forgiveness and ended with him spilling his guts through a litany of words and emojis. According to him, he’d been hesitant to date me at first, convinced we had nothing in common. Then we went out a few times, and he liked hanging out, doing things together. At the beginning of the rant, he said it wasn’t about Chastity, but by the end, he admitted he still loved her and probably always would, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to try. He didn’t outright say I would always be second, but that was the gist of it.

I played along for almost half a day, replying with mundane emojis to make it look like I gave a shit. I didn’t, but it was a way to pass the time.

But the moment he told me he loved me, I had to put an end to it. I assumed it was Chastity’s number, so I point-blank told him I wouldn’t play second fiddle to a woman who used men for her own gain. Then I blocked that number, too. If she saw it, I would never know.

I was sure someone would consider my actions inappropriate, but I didn’t give a shit. No, Wes wasn’t someone I would’ve spent much time with after we had sex the first time (unless he was a god in bed, though I didn’t have high hopes), but he had still fucked up. Taking his drunk ex-girlfriend back to his place while I left in an Uber was the equivalent of a bitch slap, and admittedly, it stung a little.

The only other person I talked to was my mother, and that was via text message also. She wasn’t as good at manipulating me that way, so I opted for that means of communication versus a phone call. She told me she was worried about me and reminded me that a fundraiser was coming up soon, and I’d promised I would be there. I assured her I was okay and informed her I would need to think about the fundraiser. I was no longer certain my calendar was free. Yes, a blatant lie, but who cared? It seemed only fair.

I didn’t want to feel sorry for her, although I probably would, even though I was angry and hurt. I had put off my conversation with Rule for the time being because I didn’t need him to spell it out for me, and as long as he didn’t, I could pretend he was wrong.

As for my mother, she was acting as though nothing had happened—no sexcapades gone wrong, no daughter moving out, nothing—giddily going on about an upcoming project she’d been approached about. Evidently, her agent had called to tell her about the perfect part, and, as usual, nothing else mattered. For the record, every part was perfect for her until she read the script. At that point, she would either feign disinterest to see what she could get out of the role or whine that she was too strong an actress to play such a mediocre part.

My mother was right about one thing. She was a strong actress. She was brilliant when it came to pretending she was someone else, both professionally and in her everyday life. And she only improved over time.

As for my relationship with Rule … well, there wasn’t one. Unless you counted my increased attempts to seduce him. I guess it probably wasn’t really seduction, but I was going out of my way to ensure he felt some discomfort. It seemed only fair since I did every time I was in the same room with him. He pretended he wasn’t affected by me, but he was. The man had mastered the art of masking his expressions, but he was screwed by biology. His jeans constantly showed an impressive bulge after little time in my presence. That didn’t make my comfort level any better because the thought of what he could do with his cock… I was starting to fantasize.

The sound of the front door had me reining in my thoughts before they could take a taboo turn. I glanced over my shoulder as Rule and Jinx were coming into the kitchen.

“Hey,” I said cheerfully, waving from my spot on the outdoor sofa. “Do you have any double A batteries? The ones in my vibrator died this morning.”

It wasn’t true, but I was on a mission, and I took every opportunity to get one in.

Jinx spun on his heel and made himself scarce.

Rule grunted. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“You dressed?”

Feeling giddy for the chance he might want to leave the house with me, I twisted around to look at him fully. “I can be.”

His eyebrows rose slowly.

“I’m dressed, you perv, but not for leaving the house.”

There was a hint of a smile under that beard. I wanted to know how soft it was to the touch. I wanted to know if it would feel the same between my legs as it would against my fingertips.

I shook off the thought and met his gaze just as he said, “Get dressed. We’ll grab something.”

“Thank you!” I squealed as I shot up from my seat and hurried down the hall to the room I’d taken over.

I traded my shorts for my favorite jeans—the ones with pockets on the legs and a low waist. They were a bit baggy by design, but now they were loose enough to require a belt. I thought for sure I would’ve gained back some of the weight I’d been keeping off thanks to my excursion dates with Wes, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Since the extent of my exercise involved petting Waldo, every time I ate a bite, I imagined it forming itself to my waistline. Then again, I was spending a lot of time in the pool. It wasn’t made for laps, but I was getting in a brief workout every day.

I paired my jeans with a form-fitting black halter. It was simple and not something I usually wore out in public. I rolled the pants up several times and pulled on a pair of black and pink sneakers. Once dressed, I hurried to the bathroom to put on mascara and lip gloss. I didn’t wear more than that most days, if I even bothered with it at all. It took a minute to pull my hair up in a ponytail and fix a ball cap on my head.

Last but not least came my clunky rectangle frame glasses. They weren’t prescription. They were cute, but I didn’t wear them as a fashion trend. I wore them as a disguise. I’d learned they drew less attention than wearing sunglasses at night, and since I was merely the offspring of a celebrity, regular people weren’t usually expecting to see me. As for the paparazzi … I couldn’t do anything about them.

Because I couldn’t resist, I pulled on some jewelry—my rose gold Ferragamo mini watch, my diamond halo stud earrings, and my rose gold nose hoop. I reached for the Bvlgari bangle bracelet I always wore but stopped myself. I didn’t actually like the bracelet, and I only wore it because it had a tracking device implanted in it. One my mother gave me after the last time I was kidnapped, insisting I wear it in case something ever happened to me.

I stared at the damn thing and rolled my eyes. Had she felt any remorse whatsoever for what she did? Had there been an ounce of guilt when she pretended a bracelet might keep me safe from everyone but her?

I shrugged off the thought and palmed the bracelet before glancing once more at myself in the mirror.

“Good enough,” I said, content with it.

I found Rule in the kitchen, leaning against the waterfall island, his head tilted down. He appeared lost in thought, so I cleared my throat.

When he looked up, I instantly saw the familiar heat in his gaze.

I held out the bracelet for him.

“What’s this?”

“It has a tracking device so my mother knows where I am. I didn’t know if you wanted to get rid of it. Otherwise, she’ll know where you live.” If she didn’t already. Knowing Monica, she’d already looked to see where I was.

He set it on the counter. “I’m not worried about your mother.”

“Good.” I smiled. “Me, either. Now, where are you taking me?”

“Thought I’d leave it up to you.” He motioned toward the front door. “I parked out front.”

“Hmm.” I followed him into the early fall evening.

The sky was a perfect blue, with hints of pink, yellow, and purple beginning to form on the horizon as the sun got lower.

“Is there anything you won’t eat?” I asked when I joined him in the car.

“Preferably not salad.”

“No to Panera, then.”

I swore I saw a smile as he started the car. The throaty purr of the engine made my girly parts tingle.

“You know what sounds really good?” I prompted as he backed out of the driveway.

“What’s that?”

I waited until he was driving down the street to say, “Chipotle.”

He glanced over at me. “Seriously?”

“What? You have something against Mexican food.”

“Not at all.”

“Then why are you surprised.”

“I didn’t take you for the fast food sort.”

“Ah.” I nodded and stared out the window as he pulled onto Sunset Blvd. “You figured I preferred escargot and caviar for dinner?”

“Something like that.”

“Apparently, taste in food isn’t passed down from mother to daughter.”

“I guess not.”

“I didn’t get a lot of traits from my mother, actually,” I continued simply because I had someone to talk to. “What about you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Meaning you’ve never paid attention or…?”

“I don’t have parents.” His eyes remained locked on the road in front of us.

Since everyone technically had parents—at least from a biological perspective—I approached the subject with sensitivity.

“Were you adopted?”

“I guess that was the plan when they left me in the front lobby of a police station when I was two.”

He said it as though he was stating a fact, not reflecting on a traumatic event in his life. Not that I expected more from Rule. He wasn’t exactly the emotional sort.

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but I didn’t want him to stop talking. “Were you later adopted?”

“No. Foster care, mostly. Group home when I was a teenager.”

“What’s it like?” I asked, staring out the window. “Not knowing where you came from?”

He didn’t respond, but I hadn’t expected him to.

“I have some idea how it feels since I don’t know who my father is. Sometimes, I imagine he’s an actor with a family of his own, and he and my mother had something temporary while on set. Other times, I think maybe he’s a world-renowned chef in Paris and met my mother by chance. In both cases, she ran out on him, and he never learned of my existence because if he had, he would’ve been there.”

“She never told you?”

“She doesn’t know.”

At least, that was what she said. When I tried to get her to narrow it down to a manageable list so I could have some idea, she said it was during a time she didn’t remember. My mother didn’t have a monogamous bone in her body, so I didn’t expect anything less.

“I just don’t understand why she kept me.” I had never admitted that to anyone. “Her life would’ve been so much easier without me, I’m sure. As it was, she hardly raised me. My nannies did. Even those weren’t consistent because she has a hair-trigger temper and takes it out on people who work for her.”

I glanced at Rule. His fingers were curled around the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a touchy subject.” I added as much cheer to my tone as I could. “We can always talk about what else we’re going to do on our belated honeymoon.”

He barked a laugh, and the tension in his fingers eased. “Is that what this is?”

At that point, I made it my mission to make Rule laugh. The real kind of laughter that comes from the belly. I wanted to hear it at least once.

* * *

Rule

When I saw Laikyn in the outfit she had on now, my first thought was—she’s so fucking young. What the fuck am I even doing with her?

She was young. Quite a bit younger than me. Fourteen years, to be exact.

Considering our vastly different upbringings, we shouldn’t have anything in common. And yet, if I didn’t know the details from when I had rescued her, I probably wouldn’t have guessed she was in her early twenties. There was a maturity about her that lingered beneath the sassy personality. One I suspected came from taking care of other people rather than enjoying life.

She certainly didn’t act like a woman only a few years out of high school with the rest of her life ahead of her. Or the spoiled brat people expected her to be. I knew more about her life than most people, though. More about her mother, specifically. Not because I was fascinated by Monica Quinn. It was part of the job. What I did for a living wasn’t something most people would do. And because I often committed crimes to protect the lives of others, I had no choice but to have the necessary evidence to protect my own ass. God knows the rich assholes I’d worked for weren’t going to return the favor. If anything, they would claim they’d never met me before.

If I were a good man, I wouldn’t drag Laikyn into this life. Not even for the amount of time required to get her situation sorted out. It wasn’t that I gave a fuck about Monica, but her problems would essentially become Laikyn’s problems, and because I knew the depths her mother would go for a dollar, I refused to let Laikyn suffer.

I could’ve easily given Monica time to get the money together. She would somehow. This wasn’t the first time the woman had been down on her luck and used her wiles to get her way. Unfortunately, the creditors she’d used in the past weren’t quite as besotted by her as the public, which was why I’d put my foot down. The last thing that woman needed was to seek another loan to make another problem disappear. She would merely be creating an entirely new one in the process. And if, like the last time, Monica put her daughter in danger to achieve her objective, I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t end her.

So here we were.

“Can I ask you something … business related?” Laikyn prompted while we sat at one of the restaurant’s outdoor tables.

I glanced to my left and then to my right, curious who might overhear because if I’d learned anything about Laikyn, it was that she did not have a filter.

“Don’t worry,” she said, grinning. “I’m the queen of discretion. At least when in public.”

“Okay, then.” I poked at the bowl of food.

“What you did for my mom … is that par for the course?”

“No.”

“So, what exactly do you do?”

“I fix things.”

“Like?”

I cocked an eyebrow. I certainly wasn’t going to go into details in a public place. Hell, I didn’t intend to go into detail at all. What I did for my clients was kept on a need-to-know basis. Rarely did anyone need to know aside from one of my employees if I could keep it to that.

“Hollywood problems,” she said. “Like cheaters who don’t want to get caught or executives who did something wrong in the past and need it to be covered up.”

I took a bite, choosing not to respond.

“You also save kidnap victims from creepy assholes who call them princess and threaten to steal their non-existent virginity.”

She played it off as though she wasn’t traumatized by the event, but I noticed the way her eyes scanned our surroundings. She was hyperaware of everyone and everything. I got the feeling that was the norm for her after what happened.

I met her gaze. “Don’t make me out to be the hero in the story, baby. I’m not.”

“You save people.”

“From themselves,” I clarify.

“My mother could’ve gone a different route. It would’ve worked out.”

I figured she was referring to the police. “She could’ve, yes. She didn’t.”

“Why?” Laikyn pointed at me with her fork. “That’s what I don’t understand. What else is she hiding that she felt the need to … call you?”

Her mother had a lot of skeletons in her closet. I wouldn’t even know where to begin if I was open to sharing them. I wasn’t. I didn’t want to see Laikyn hurt any more than she had been already. I simply wanted to get her through this in one piece. Once she came out the other side, she could move on with her life. There were bigger and better things waiting for her. Things she wasn’t even aware of yet.

Laikyn laughed. “You know you’re the worst first date in the history of first dates.”

“I thought this was our honeymoon.”

Her smile was sweet and shy, and I forced myself to look away. This woman … I wanted her in a way I knew I shouldn’t. I was not a nice guy. I did not do nice things. She deserved a man who would walk through fire on the right side of the line to protect her. I would protect her, but I would do it through any means necessary. It wouldn’t matter if I traumatized her in the process.

“Do you remember any of your first dates?” she asked, casually moving on.

“All of them,” I admitted.

Laikyn sat up and leaned back. “All of them? Seriously?”

I didn’t bother telling her every single one of my dates had been the first and the last. “Yes.”

“Who was your very first first date with?”

“Margot Freeman,” I answered. “She was a sophomore in high school. I was a junior. I drove her dad’s car. We went to the movie theater. She wanted to see Mean Girls. I talked her into Hellboy. We made out when I took her home. Third base.”

Her eyes were wide. “You remember all of that? About your first date?”

“I remember everything about everything.”

Her expression sobered, and I could feel her studying me. “Eidetic memory?”

“Hyperthymesia,” I corrected.

“Not the same thing?”

I shook my head. “I remember more than images.”

“So similar in theory? But you also recall what? Sounds and smells?”

I nodded.

“How far back?”

I glanced at her, then to the table, and back to her again. “I remember being left in that police station. The officer who picked me up and frowned like she didn’t know what she was looking at?”

“Oh, God.”

I’d never told anyone that before.

“So it’s not this great phenomenon that people make it out to be?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you can recall things with vivid clarity, it wouldn’t only be the good things.”

No one who knew about my enhanced memory had ever made that acknowledgment. Most people were in awe, wishing they had the same ability. What they didn’t realize was exactly what Laikyn said—bad memories were as ingrained as good. Although I could recite a book verbatim after reading it once or twice, those weren’t the only things lodged in my brain. Life experiences were stored there as well, and most of them with vivid clarity.

“It’s not, no.”

“What’s it like?”

I decided to give her an example. “Not only can I remember things, I capture details without meaning to.”

“Like what? Give me an example.”

“I know there are seven people sitting on this patio with us.”

I gave her a moment to look around, tallying them up.

“Three are male, four female.”

She nodded.

“Four are white, two black, one Asian.”

Again, she nodded.

“Two brunettes, two blondes, three with black hair.”

Her gaze skimmed each one.

“Five sets of brown eyes, two blue. The blue-eyed blond guy is missing the third button from the bottom on his jean jacket.”

All seven of those people were behind me. I hadn’t seen them since I walked out, and she knew that. The entire time, I’d focused on my food or her.

“Very impressive,” she said with a smile. “I’m good at something, too.”

“Yeah?”

Laikyn licked her lips. “It’s a topic not meant for young ears.”

I was grateful there were teenagers lingering nearby because I didn’t think I could listen to her reveal some sexual secret. I was hanging on by a thread as it was. For the past two weeks, Laikyn had been pushing my buttons. Whether directly or baiting me with her ongoing conversations with Jinx. I knew they shared a mutual attraction. It was obvious. I also knew Jinx would never do anything without me prompting him first. Since I intended to keep my relationship with Laikyn platonic, I had no intention of doing so.

However, I wasn’t a saint, and her mention of batteries and her vibrator when I got home had nearly undone me. I prided myself on control, but this woman was unraveling the thread slowly. And deliberately.

“You’re young, Laikyn.”

“In years, sure. But this town … you grow up fast.”

I got the feeling she was right about that.

She reached for her cup and brought the straw to her lips. “Did you grow up here?”

I shook my head and pushed my plate away. “Oklahoma.”

“I thought I detected a drawl in there.” She set down her cup, then wadded up her napkin and placed it on her half-eaten bowl. “When did you move here?”

“Twelve years ago.”

“Why?”

“A friend suggested I do it.”

“Jinx?”

“No. He came with me.”

“The one who suggested it … is this a close friend?”

“He’s the closest thing to family I have.”

“Besides Jinx?”

I didn’t answer because it seemed rhetorical. I wasn’t sure whether she was trying to get a feel for my relationship with Jinx or merely working him into the conversation. Either way, she could learn the minutia from him. I’d already told her far more than I’d intended to divulge.

“Do you see this friend often?”

“As often as I can. We’re both busy.”

I noticed Laikyn’s eyes slide toward the kids at the next table. Occasionally, she would turn her head away from them as though shielding her face.

“What’s wrong?”

She cleared her throat. “Nothing.” With a smile, she leaned toward me. “I think they just figured out who I am, so we might want to jet while we can.”

I stood when one of the kids at the next table pointed. “That’s her. That’s Laikyn Quinn. Monica Quinn’s daughter.”

“Who’s she with?”

“Dunno. He looks familiar.”

“Dude, we need to get a pic.”

I watched as Laikyn’s expression shut down, and she seemed to turn inward on herself.

“Hey, Laikyn! Can we get a pic?”

She didn’t respond.

I took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Linking her fingers with mine, I walked with her into the restaurant in order to reach the parking lot.

The kids seeking her photo were behind us, getting louder and drawing attention from others inside. Before we were at the door, a couple more teenagers were moving our way.

“Holy shit, bro. That’s The Fixer.” The kid’s excitement level amped up. “LQ’s with The Fixer.”

I put my arm over Laikyn’s shoulder and shielded her against my side. I pretended not to notice how easily she put her arm around me or how fucking good it felt when she placed her palm on my chest as she ducked her head and allowed me to guide her to my car.

“Hey, man! Can we get a pic?”

I didn’t respond, and I didn’t look back. The kids weren’t a threat to her physical safety, but I sensed Laikyn’s need to escape them, so I pretended not to hear them. Even after I got her into the car and walked around to the other side. A couple of phones were out, camera flashes on as they snapped photos and videos, likely to share on social media or sell to someone who gave a shit.

“By tomorrow, the paparazzi will have caught wind of me having dinner with the Hollywood Fixer,” she said when I got in the car. “Your life will be turned upside down until they get the story. I’m sorry about that.”

Before I could think about it, I reached over and took her hand, clasping it in mine. “Don’t worry about me. They won’t find anything I don’t want them to find.”

The feel of her soft, cool fingers against my hand was enough to set off sparks in my veins. I couldn’t remember a time when that had happened, and since I remembered every damn thing, I knew it hadn’t.

“You want me to take you home?” I asked, releasing her and placing both hands on the wheel.

“If you’re offering to keep this first date going, I wouldn’t mind going to the beach.”

I couldn’t tell her no, so I drove.