Page 10 of Hell of a Mess

Nine

Luther

I probably shouldn’t be in her room, watching her sleep, but fuck it.

I rarely did what I should, so why start now?

My interest in her was mere concern and curiosity.

Linc thought I wanted to fuck her, but she was fragile.

I didn’t fuck fragile. I liked it rough.

I’d say she was too young, but that was laughable.

I’d been fucking college-aged girls since I had been in high school.

I took the unlit cigar I had between my teeth, holding it there just for the feel and taste, and flipped it around between my fingers as I watched her slow, even breathing.

The bruising and swelling on her face were fading and leaving behind perfect features.

The kind in paintings. The beauty that always sat above.

Untouchable, too angelic to tarnish. Understanding why some cocksucker would hurt that kind of beauty was damn near impossible.

Tomorrow, we’d know more about the fucker who had bought Sovereign House.

If there was an oil link between him and Lace, we’d find it.

Sure, her Texas accent, which she masked with all that refinement she didn’t even realize oozed off her, didn’t mean they were connected.

You could live in Texas and not be in the oil business.

But, her memory of a horse that belonged to the bastard was a hard clue.

Her reaction to the cupcake bothered me for the rest of the day.

I couldn’t shake it. I was going to have Doc come and do an allergy test on her tomorrow.

Before Stevie had moved in, food allergies hadn’t been anything I even considered or thought about.

I knew the severity now, and I wanted to be sure that Lace wouldn’t accidentally be given something that could fucking kill her.

It was the only explanation as to why she’d panic at the suggestion that she take a bite of the cupcake.

God knew she’d decorated the damn things like it was her profession in life.

Sticking the cigar back between my teeth, I let my eyes slowly drift down her body before heading to leave.

I wanted to smoke, and I fucking knew I’d better not do it in the house.

Not even on my side. Linc would smell it like the hounds from hell and come find me.

Good thing I had a balcony outside of my bedroom.

It was the only reason I could follow his stupid-ass rule.

“Mommy!”

The strangled cry stopped me, and I spun back around to see Lace twisting around in bed as she whimpered.

“No! Mommy!” she cried out, louder this time, and I was at her side instantly with long, fast strides.

Her eyes were closed, but there was a frantic expression on her face as she continued wrestling with the covers, where she’d been sleeping so peacefully before.

She was remembering something, and I should probably leave it alone and let her remember.

When she woke up, she might have more information about herself, if not all of it.

But when she began to cry and tremble, I decided I wasn’t going to be able to do that.

I liked it when she was sleeping soundly, not fighting some demons in her past.

Reaching down, I ran my fingers through her hair. “Shh. Easy, sugar,” I said in the most soothing tone I could manage. I wasn’t someone who was well versed in comforting anyone.

She stilled, and I started to think she was going to open her eyes.

Seeing me in her room, standing over her, might cause more of a scare than the shit in her dreams. I prepared for that, but the more I caressed her temple and let her locks fall between my fingers, the more she calmed until she was once again still.

Huh. Well, damn. Look at me. I wasn’t so bad at the comforting thing. Feeling smug, I forced myself to stop touching her and step back. After a few moments, she remained calm, and I decided it was my cue to go.

I shouldn’t have been in here to begin with. But then she’d needed me. Even if she hadn’t known it.

Taking the edge of the covers, I straightened them and untangled her cast from the sheet. Her peaceful expression eased me in a way I wasn’t familiar. That was bothersome.

Scowling, I left the room, not comfortable with the odd way that made me feel.

Lace’s door was closed when I passed it the next morning on my way down for coffee.

I paused at it for only a moment, then decided that, no, I wasn’t going to check on her.

I’d stayed out of her goddamn room the rest of the night, and I wasn’t going back in there.

No matter how tempting it was to watch her sleep.

Before she’d started that twisting and crying for her mother shit, it had been a peaceful experience. One I wasn’t accustomed to, and I didn’t need to like it. My life had never been peaceful, and finding that I enjoyed the concept now wouldn’t be a positive thing.

The more I stayed dark and edgy, the easier it was to do what I’d been born to do. This world, the family—it wasn’t meant for the weak, and needing peace was fucking weak. I would never be that.

It was a good thing I didn’t need much sleep because I’d barely gotten any. My scowl only deepened as I walked farther into the center of the house. When I made it to the great room, however, my mood improved with the scent of bacon wafting from the kitchen.

Before Stevie and Branwen had moved in, we’d never done breakfast. Well, maybe Linc ate some healthy shit, but I wouldn’t eat until noon most days. However, the kid liked her big breakfasts, and I’d found out I liked them too. Shame I’d missed so many years not eating in the morning.

Right on cue, Maui came barreling out of the doorway and straight toward me. My annoyance subsided at the sight of the fucking ball of fluff.

“Calm down, you crazy ass,” I muttered at him as he reached me.

He didn’t seem to mind my mood, and even in my worst ones, he stayed by my side, completely at ease with it. Bending down, I tousled the curls on his head and scratched him behind the ears like he enjoyed.

“Let’s go eat,” I told him, knowing he’d already been eating his food, along with any morsel Jayda might have been dropped on the ground.

He might not understand all my words, but he knew eat, and his ears perked up.

“If I’m feeling generous, I’ll share my bacon.”

Bacon was another word he understood. His tail flew back and forth as his mouth appeared to water. The little shit couldn’t get full.

“Not yet.”

Linc’s voice snapped my attention off the furry beast, and I looked up to see he stood in the arched doorway that led down to his office.

He’d not come from the kitchen, which was where he normally was at this time of day.

He enjoyed that time with his wife and kid but he’d shipped them off yesterday.

“Please tell me you’re gonna let me get a coffee first,” I drawled, already seeing the severe expression on his face and knowing this was not going to be something I wanted to hear.

“Jayda brought it to the office already. Bane is there, along with Mal, Oz, and Fender,” he replied.

I glanced over at the nearest clock and frowned. “What the fuck is wrong with the lot of you? It’s not even nine yet?”

“We believe we have Lace’s identity.” He told me the one thing that could get my mind off the bacon and coffee.

My hand fell from Maui’s head, and I made my way toward Linc, who turned and headed down the hallway. He believed, meaning he had no actual proof.

Why was half of the damn family in his office already this morning? That didn’t bode well.

My entire body tensed as I followed him.

Who was she? Or who did Linc think she was? If he was going to hand her over, then he’d have a fight. Because whoever she was, someone had beaten her, and that shit wasn’t happening again.

Maui started to go with me.

“No,” I told him and pointed toward the kitchen. “Go find Jayda.”

His expression lit up as if it was a game, he took off in that direction, leaving me to go deal with whatever Linc thought he might have found out about Lace.

By the time I reached the office door, he’d already gone inside and left it standing open for me. Stepping into the room, I scanned it to see Bane on the far-left sofa with his right ankle propped on his left knee and a large mug resting on his calf. Seemed that fucker already had coffee.

Jesus, how long had they been here?

His father, Fender, sat opposite him, almost in the exact same position—and I doubted they realized it.

I smirked and walked over to the serving cart that had a stainless-steel chafer urn, which I knew held the liquid I needed, and an array of muffins, toast, and an empty plate, which I would bet had once held the bacon.

Dammit. Couldn’t they all eat at their own homes?

Oz was standing in front of the cart, refilling his mug with coffee. He had better have left me some.

“Glad you could get out of bed and join us,” Mal Bowen said from where I’d glanced at him sitting in a high-back leather chair.

“That makes one of us,” I replied and snatched up a mug as Oz moved out of my way.

“When are you ever going to start acting your age and not like you’re still in your fucking thirties?” Again from Mal.

I finished filling my mug, then picked up a blueberry muffin before turning around and acknowledging his smart-ass remark. “When I look like I’m not in my thirties,” I replied, then took a bite.

He chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t look like you’re in your thirties now.”

Like hell I didn’t. Bastard.

“Don’t start, you two,” Fender interrupted. “We have business to handle.”

While Fender didn’t necessarily look his age either, he acted like a damn grandpa. Well, he was a grandpa. So was I, but that wasn’t our fault. Our sons couldn’t stop shooting loads into cunts. But, damn, I did love Kye’s kid. Looked just like his daddy at that age. And kept his momma on her toes.