Rhys (Secrets Book 1) Page 15

  “We dropped the man off at the nearest emergency room and drove Smith’s van back to Mikey’s truck, left it there, and Mikey dropped me off back here, where you were still waiting. When I met with the boss in California, I learned more about Smith, mainly the fact that he rarely works alone, and someone was bound to find him where I left him. Now, with knowing more about him, I’m afraid for your life, because he’ll go for the people I love, which means he’ll go for you, Brant, my parents—whoever is easiest. The only way I know to protect you is to move you in with me, at least until the threat has passed.”

  I may not have told her I loved her when she told me, may not have echoed the words back to her like my heart boomed to, but I said them now—maybe not exactly the way she wanted to hear them, but in a roundabout way, I’ve told her. I’ll tell her again if she chooses to stay with me and not take back her words of love now that she knows who Smith is.

  “Okay, well he sounds like a complete monster. Now I understand why you demanded I move in with you and I’ll still do it, but we haven’t discussed how I’ll be protected at the store. By chance, is Smith his first name?”

  I never thought to ask.

  “I assume it is, why?”

  “Rob’s last name was Smith. I’m only asking because you said his eyes looked dead, and Rob’s eyes always had the same look, at least to me. He gave me the creeps from the beginning. Smith is a common last name, and we all know Robert is a super common name. It was only a thought.”

  At least now I have a last name for the fucker who hurt her, the rapist and murderer of her unborn child.

  “I’m not sure. You can bet your sweet ass I’ll be calling Martinelli and asking.”

  What are the odds it’s the same guy?

  “What did Rob look like? You said northern California, right?” It’s too much of a coincidence to brush aside.

  “Yeah, northern Cali. As far as I know he still lives there. He had purchased a house when Alix and I moved into our apartment together. After the attack happened, I, uh, didn’t keep track of him. I ran—it was the only thing I knew how to do. Luckily for me, I ran to Tessa and now to you.”

  Damn lucky—more like fateful. Some would call it destiny.

  “His looks?” I ask again, because if she says he has deep blue eyes with light blond hair, I’m locking her away forever.

  “Oh right, I didn’t answer that part. Sorry.” She pats my knee in reassurance, although who she’s reassuring, I’m not certain. “He has these creepy dark blue eyes with, like I said, a completely dead look behind them. No feelings whatsoever. His hair is almost white, like platinum. If he didn’t live in northern Cali and spend so much time in the sun, I’d swear he dyed it. In the winter months, it was a tad bit darker. Slim build, maybe as tall as you, could be a bit shorter.”

  No fucking way. It’s the same guy. His hair is a bit darker, but those eyes. He’s progressed to more than rape—unless he always was more and just hid it from Alix. My girl always knew he was trouble; her instincts weren’t off when it came to Rob, Smith or whoever he is.

  “Babe?”

  She stops nervously chewing on her bottom lip and turns to look at me. “Yeah?”

  “Who you described is the Smith I beat within an inch of his life. His hair was darker, but those eyes were the same. They screamed death to me. Chills went down my spine at the sound of his voice alone, but when combined with those dark blue eyes, he was the stuff of nightmares. I know without asking, he’s the same guy who raped you.”

  My plans for opening my firm are being put on hold. Her description is spot on for the monster I was this close to killing a few nights back. She’s not only moving in, but I’m going to be a constant companion when she goes to work. With my new business, I can work anywhere, which is a good thing.

  Working out of her small back office shouldn’t be much of an adjustment. Whenever the bell rings and a new customer comes in, I can make sure to be in the main room with her. Always watching. Always protecting. Always alert.

  She hasn’t said anything, which doesn’t sit well with me. She’s either in shock, or she’s letting it all settle in. Either way, it’s not a comfort.

  “About the store…I think it would be best if I went in with you and worked from there for the time being.”

  “What? No.” Her hands are now frantically threading through her dark red locks. I wonder if she knows she’s nervously finger-combing her hair; her nervous ticks are cute. “No, you’re not coming to work with me. I draw the line at moving in. I’m going to need some room to breathe.”

  “Give me a solution I can live with, because there’s no way I’m letting you go to work unprotected, not with knowing what I know now. No way in hell, Averill. He hurt you once before. He killed your unborn child and raped you. I may not know the details, but I don’t need to know. I know he’s a killer, and I also know you will be protected.”

  She throws her hands up in frustration, like she’s given up. “Fine, Rhys. You win, again. Your magic penis gets me to agree to anything. Gah you’re frustrating.”

  The smirk on my face is almost instantly smacked off by the empty water bottle she tosses at my head.

  “Don’t smirk at me, mister. You know you have a magic penis. It’s not news to you. Stop winking at me. Stop gloating about winning. Shut up and drive. Let me stew a bit.”

  Laughing, but leaving the smirk off my face, I do what she says and drive. It’s a silent ride the rest of the way to her house, but an enjoyable one.

  While she’s in her room gathering a few belongings for the next month or two, I go about making arrangements with Ryan for the next couple of days. He’s okay with my not being in the office since we’re not officially open, and besides, he still hasn’t started to move anything over.

  The call to him was easy. The call to Brant? Not easy. The dickhead is asking all sorts of questions, questions I’m not ready to answer. All he needs to know is to keep an eye out for anyone out of the ordinary. In a college town, it’s not a small task. Grand Rapids embraces the weird. Typically, the commonplace, boring, normal crowd doesn’t fit here, at least not for long. It’s a town for artists, musicians, and performers.

  Don’t get me wrong, plenty of normal people live here, but the more eclectic tend to stay longer.

  “Tell me again why I need to be on the lookout for this guy?” he asks for what has to be the fourth damn time.

  “I’ve told you no less than three times now, dickwad. I’m done repeating myself. Averill needs help packing. I’ll talk to you, later.”

  I lied; she doesn’t need help packing, but I didn’t want to keep repeating every single detail to him. He knows enough for now. Besides, he’s a trained martial artist, perfectly capable of defending himself. Shit, I’ve trained him when it comes to breaking someone’s arm. He knows enough to hurt them fast and get away faster. He’s not the one I’m worried about protecting.

  “Would you like me to help you pack anything?”

  This would’ve been a million times easier on her if I’d offer to move in here with her, but knowing my home has a kick-ass security system in place, I didn’t give it as an option. When it comes to her, I’m as protective as it gets. Some would call it alpha. I don’t give a shit what you call it; I call it shielding those I love. If it makes me an alpha male, I’m an alpha male. Screw it. I’ll embrace it.

  “Yes, please,” she calls from down the hall. Following the sound of her voice, I find her resting in the middle of her bathroom floor surrounded by toiletries.

  “Do you actually use all of those products?” She doesn’t need a single one of them. She didn’t wear a speck of makeup today and she couldn’t have been more beautiful. She could bathe in gold dust and it wouldn’t make a difference.

  “Most of it, yes.”

  “You don’t need any of it.”

  Blushing, she turns her face to the side to hide her reaction from me. Understanding her, I let it slide. She’ll come around eventually and
get accustomed to my compliments.

  “If you could grab my shampoo, conditioner, face wash, razor, body wash, body…um…screw it. Grab everything out of the shower and toss it in a bag, please.”

  Shaking my head and laughing lightly, I do as instructed and grab every single thing out of her shower. I’ll never understand why women use this many products. Me? I use maybe five, six tops.

  “We can come back whenever and grab more clothes or whatever you wish. You don’t need to bring everything all at once. Besides, I’m sure he’ll take a while to heal. It’s his lackeys I’m worried about for the time being.”

  She continues packing up the products surrounding her on the floor while I run the bag of clothes she has packed and waiting on her bed out to Mystique, along with the bag of shower goodies. You’d think she was moving out forever with as heavy as her ‘overnight’ bag is.

  Walking back inside, I notice a man standing outside the neighboring house, smoking a cigarette. I’m not familiar with her neighbors; he could be one of them. Not wanting to take any chances, I make sure to commit him to memory. I’ll ask her about him as soon as I get back inside.

  She’s standing in the middle of her living room when I walk back in her front door, and there are two more bags of belongings gathered on her couch.

  “Is that everything?”

  “Shh…I’m thinking.”

  Okay, I guess I’ll ask her about the man in a minute, after she makes sure she has everything. Her house isn’t far from mine, and we can always come back to grab whatever she needs. It’s not like she’s moving across the country, or even the damn state. She’s moving a few miles away. I mean, her neighborhood Starbucks is my neighborhood Starbucks, for crying out loud.

  Grabbing the bags, I quickly run them outside. The man is still outside smoking, only this time he’s staring at me. He could be a neighbor and making note of my presence; I am a new fixture after all. Still, the paranoid voice in the back of my head whispers to me, saying he could be working for Smith. Casing the joint. Checking her out. Making note of her habits. Seeing if I’m protecting her.

  Covertly, I watch him back, taking more mental notes for later. I’m also not in such a hurry to leave anymore.

  When I’m back inside, she’s still standing near her couch. “I think I have everything I’ll need. If not, I’ll come back. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “Without letting him see you, is there a way you can look outside to the neighbor on the right’s driveway? There’s a man out there, and I’d like to know if he’s your neighbor.”

  She walks near the front window, making sure to stay to the shadows. Good girl.

  “Um, I’m not sure. I’ve spent less time here than at the store. I’d be able to tell you more about the owners of the stores around me, which is sad, I know.” She stays to the shadows as she walks back toward me. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s normal to spend more time working when you’re getting your place up and running, but we’re not leaving here right now. How about we order pizza and watch a movie?”

  If the guy is still outside smoking when the pizza is delivered, I’ll have my answer. If he’s not, we’ll leave shortly after.

  “Sure. Pizza sounds good, which says a lot about my love of pizza, because we did have it last night. It’s hard to turn down pizza. And, if you mean have sex instead of watch a movie, you have yourself a deal. If not, I’ll pass, thanks.”

  And they say men are sexual creatures.

  “Hm, I think we can arrange something.”

  Reaching for her, I pull her into my arms. Before I can kiss her, she pulls back. “Can we add in some wings?”

  “Baby, we can add in anything you want.”

  Her response is cut off by my kiss.

  The next morning while Averill’s in the shower, I place a call to Martinelli. Knowing it’s earlier in California and he may not answer, I’m surprised to hear his raspy voice on the other end of the line.

  “Calling to ask for your job back this soon?”

  “Not quite. I’m calling to ask if Smith is his last name or his first name?”

  Asking him will only solidify what I already know in my bones. Smith is Rob, Rob is Smith. There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind.

  “I’ll give you whatever information I have on him. I’ll help you take him down, if it’s what you like.” He pauses, waiting for my confirmation. When I don’t answer, he finally affirms what I already knew. “Smith is his last name. He’s a Californian, which I’m sure you already knew, and his first name is Robert. He’s in his late twenties or early thirties, I’m not entirely sure. I’ll have all the information I’ve got sent to you. Is there anything else you need?”

  Yeah, Smith dead. Since I didn’t complete that task the other night, it seems I’ll be killing him sometime in the near future, or turning him into the FBI, though doing that would only incriminate myself, or Martinelli—not to mention I’d get myself killed.

  I’ll do the one thing keeping me from going over the edge if it means keeping her safe, keeping everyone I love safe. I’ll kill Smith. I’ll go there, will meet those demons of hell if I have to—whatever it takes to save them all.

  “No, I needed to confirm what I knew. Thanks.”

  He doesn’t bother saying goodbye. Typical. I’m lucky if he says hello; greetings seem to be below him. Until our last meeting, I thought of him as a monster. It took my meeting Smith to see who the monster truly was.

  I’m propped up in the middle of my bed with only the sheet covering me when Averill walks in from her shower.

  “You look exactly like I left you. Have you not moved?”

  “Nope, but I did confirm Rob is Smith.”

  “Oh.” Her hand is gently running a comb through her hair, and at my words, it stops, the comb tumbling to the floor. “I mean, we knew it, it’s just…shocking to truly know it.” She’s trembling when she bends to pick up her comb. “Do you think he found me first?”

  “What do you mean?” If he found her and sought out my services only to get to her, I’ll kill him twice.

  “Do you think he found me and came after me by working with you? Oh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I’m fumbling over my words. But, do you think he did?”

  Her words are coming out clear, exactly how she meant them to. Her thoughts aren’t jumbled; they’re aligned with mine.

  “No, you’re making sense. I get what you’re trying to say, and no, I don’t think he sought me out because he found you first. I think you’re going to be the cherry on a huge sundae for him. When he finds out we’re involved, he’s going to feel like he’s won the lottery.” I know how he feels. “But he hasn’t won anything. The only thing he’s winning is a ticket straight to hell.”

  She starts to comb her hair out again; it seems my words have comforted her a bit. I’m thankful for that, because they were meant to.

  “Averill?”

  “Hm?” She’s standing there, mindlessly combing her wet tresses.

  “I love you, too.”

  Why I’m choosing now to tell her is beyond me, maybe to offer her more comfort, more words of protection—who the fuck knows? Not me, but it seems to be exactly what she needs to hear.

  “I knew you did. When you didn’t reply in kind yesterday, my heart was in my throat. It sat there for hours, hours, Rhys, because I knew you loved me. I’ve seen the look echoed back in your eyes for years, since we were children.”

  “Tell me again, Averill. Tell me those words again, and I’ll say them back.”

  Not only will I say them today, I’ll say them for the rest of our lives if she’ll let me. People may call us crazy, but who the hell cares? If you love someone, you should shout it from the rooftops. Love is love and it’s rare. I watched her walk out of my life once, and I’ll be damned if I ever watch her walk away again.

  “I love you, Rhys Nathanial Gallhagar,” she says as she crawls into my lap.

/>   “I love you, Averill Lily Fitzgerald. I’ve been crazy in love with you since we were eight years old, I think, but I didn’t know what it was back then. I know what it is now. I. Love. You. And I’ll protect you until my last breath.”

  “Wow. You take my breath away with your words, Rhys.”

  “You deserve to hear them.”

  When we pull up to the store several hours later, Tessa glares at us from the driver’s seat of Averill’s car. She’s right and truly pissed, and it was worth every bit of her wrath.

  Over the next several days, we develop a pattern. Our schedules mesh, lives become entangled, and not one single move has been made by Smith.

  If he’s working with anyone, I’ve yet to see concrete proof. It seems he has been found, but that’s the only word I’ve received about the possibility of him working with someone else. At the least, someone knew of his warehouse, but that doesn’t prove they worked together raping, torturing, and killing, whatever it is that went on in those many rooms.

  It simply proves he was found.

  Someone could have just been walking by and heard his yells for help. That’s all it would take for the cops to get there and find him shackled and broken within an inch of his life. A normal citizen could have been playing hero for the day. Go on, be proud, you saved a fucking monster. If you’re lucky, when he’s fully better, he’ll never remember your name to repay you. Trust me, you don’t want any type of payment from Rob Smith.

  Which brings me to now, this minute. I’m staring at a manila envelope that arrived here by messenger an hour earlier. What’s keeping me from opening it? Averill.

  She’s not here right now. After all my bitching about her not going anywhere alone, she wanted to go to the grocery store; I made a counter offer. Since Tessa left to go home two days ago, Brant was the lucky bastard who had the pleasure of taking my girl grocery shopping. As soon as they get home, we’re opening this damn envelope. It’s been taunting me, and if I knew she wouldn’t be pissed at me for reading the contents without her, I would’ve torn the bitch open two seconds after it was delivered.