Chapter 12

 

Rio

 

“What’s wrong?” Rio asked.

Darkness passed over Rake’s face when he entered the living room. He’d been fine earlier, so it must have been the phone call. It bothered Rio.

Odd how fast he’d come to recognize Rake’s expressions. The man had been unfailingly cheerful, except for that conversation at the flea market about him needing to leave.

“I should probably grab my own clothes and get out of here.” Rake ran a hand through his wet hair and squeezed some moisture out.

Rio’s stomach clenched and he blew out a slow breath. “Why?” His voice came out rough.

“I told you, I’ve stayed too long as it is. I can’t—I won’t get you involved in my mess.”

Rio went to stand in front of him and stared deep into his eyes. “What if I want to be involved?”

Rake’s brows scrunched in that cute way. His eyes held so many emotions, Rio couldn’t keep up.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Then tell me.” He lifted a hand and placed his palm against Rake’s unshaved cheek.

Rake spun around and walked out of the room. He paused to admire the view before hurrying after him.

“Do you think I’ll be okay letting you walk out the door while knowing you’re in trouble?”

Rake stopped with hands on his hips and scanned the kitchen. Rio opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

Rake scowled as he took it. “How did you know that’s what I wanted?”

“Because you’ve had nothing but coffee all day and you’re an athlete. You know the importance of staying hydrated.” He grabbed one for himself and leaned against the counter.

Rake twisted the top off and chugged. “Look, I appreciate what you’re saying, but you don’t have the first clue about what’s going on. I won’t bring my shit to your table. You don’t know me.”

He slammed the bottle on the counter, and Rio walked into his space to grab him behind the neck. Giving him a small shake, he kissed his nose. Rake puffed out a small laugh.

“Rake, you don’t know me either. Even if we weren’t fooling around or dating, I would never let you walk away if I could help in some way. That’s not who I am.”

Rake sagged and rested his head against Rio’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I went off.”

“It’s okay.”

Rake stepped away. “I appreciate you saying that, but this isn’t something you can help with. It’s too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” He looked Rake over from head to toe. “Mafia?”

Rake’s mouth sagged open. “How the fuck…?”

“Vegas. Boxer. Danger.” Rio ticked off. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

Rake paced the kitchen. “Yes. Okay? Damian Corsetti came to me after my win. He wants me to be an enforcer for him.” He whipped around. “An enforcer! Do you know what that means?”

“Rake.”

“He wants me to beat people who don’t do what he says. Possibly even kill them! He also wants a shitload of money.”

“Rake. Calm down.” He stepped into his path. “Deep breaths.” An idea came to him. “Come on. I know what you need.”

Rake followed him into the studio. Rio gathered some supplies and set Rake up in his sister’s area. Rake sat on the stool and stared as Rio plopped a huge glob of wet clay in front of him.

“Pound it. Shape it. Whatever you want. Dip your fingers in the water when it gets too dry.”

He slapped Rake’s shoulder and went to his own bench. He had work to do. Everything else could wait. Their problems would still be there.

***

 

Rake

 

Rake stared at the wet lump of brown in front of him. What the hell was he supposed to do with it? He rolled up the sleeves of Rio’s plaid flannel and poked at it. It was…oddly satisfying. So, he grabbed more and squished it between his fingers.

He peeked over the high counter. Rio was absorbed in measuring, so Rake made a fist and punched the clay. It sank in and left an impression of his knuckles. He kept it up and soon lost track of time.

It felt good. Cathartic. He tried to shape a bowl but ended with a lumpy dish. He didn’t care; he was just glad to get out of his head for a while.

Crap. Had he acted like an ass? It hit him like a slap to the face. He’d wanted a distraction from his messy life, but he didn’t want to use Rio to get it. Maybe Rio knew what he was doing, making rules and sticking to them. There was less confusion and heartache that way. Rake stood and stretched, shocked by the angle of the sunbeams through the high windows.

How long was I doing that?

He washed his hands, dried them, and checked the time. Three hours had flown by. He grabbed a water bottle out of the mini-fridge and settled in to watch Rio work.

Planing, that’s what it’s called. Rio’s muscles bunched and released with the motions of the tool. Stunningly gorgeous with wood chips and sweat covering his sculpted, tanned forearms, Rio stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

Rake smiled. “Better, thanks, but now I’m starving.”

Rio put his tools away and washed in the utility sink. “Let’s go see what I’ve got. I’m not much for cooking.”

“Me either, but I can make a mean grilled cheese.”

He followed Rio into the house, and together they scrounged up some bread, cheese, and butter.

“How did you know that would help?” Rake asked as he polished off his third sandwich.

Rio smiled. “Zadie always comes in to pound clay when she’s pissed. Usually at her girlfriend, Jen, who is notoriously flaky.”

He picked at the crumbs, staring at nothing. Rio waited without saying a word.

“I was tempted, you know?” Rake whispered. “Nobody says no to Corsetti.” He squeezed Rio’s hand but refused to meet his gaze. “But I was scared. My father works for him, so it was inevitable. I guess they were waiting until I was actually worth something. So, I ran.”

“And that makes you, what? A coward?” Rio guessed.

Rake whipped his head up. “Of course it does!” He exploded from his chair and ran his hands through his hair.

Rio stayed seated and crossed his arms. “No, it doesn’t. It’s your life, Rake. Why should you stay there and let that asshole control you?”

He stopped pacing to stare at the man. He was crazy, an oddball. Rake liked it, but still… “Everyone I know in Vegas would disagree. Well, except maybe Hunter.”

“Everyone would be wrong.” Rio stood and walked over to him. Midnight eyes bored into Rake’s as Rio grasped his shoulders. “You’re not a coward. You left everything you knew, a championship career, and I’m guessing a hell of a lot of endorsements, your family and friends because you refused to compromise your morals and hurt people. That took a hell of a lot of courage.” Rio leaned in and kissed his lips. “I’m in awe of you.”

Tears pricked his eyes, and he blinked hard. Rio tugged, and he fell into warm, strong arms. He buried his face in Rio’s neck and inhaled the crisp, clean scent. That was the smell he couldn’t place, from the wood he carved.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against Rio’s skin. He pulled away with reluctance. “But he’s going to kill me, Rio. Or beat me and threaten me until I give in. Or worse, kill someone I care about.” He met Rio’s dark eyes with trepidation.

Rio gave a worried frown. “Listen, I have a friend with the US Marshals in Salt Lake. Let’s go talk to him.”

A small kernel of hope unfurled in his chest. “You do? Do you trust him? Corsetti has people in his pocket, and Salt Lake isn’t that far from Vegas. I couldn’t go to the cops there because everyone knows they take kickbacks.”

Rio grinned, stunning Rake stupid with his beauty.

“Not Judge.”