Page 52

Madison

“Well,” Dad says, wiping his face and pretending he hadn’t just been crying. “It’s about that time. Who wants to help me make dinner?”

“Oh,” Rhue says. “I was actually wondering if I could steal Madison for a little while.” He turns toward me.

“I need to talk to you about the Brazilian transgender subculture. You know, the module we’re doing next week in Mr. Haynes’s course.

I was hoping we could go over the course material before that. ”

We did that module last week, which means he has something to tell me that he doesn’t want to say in front of Dad—or he wants an excuse to get me alone. I’m not sure I’m opposed to either of those; him saving dad’s livelihood has me seeing him in a whole new light.

Dad looks a little crestfallen, and I’m irritated at Rhue for not waiting just a little bit longer. Is it really so urgent that we talk now?

“We can help,” I say, but Rhue is already up and gently clutching my elbow as he gets me up and off my chair. Within seconds, we’re crossing the kitchen.

“Come on,” he whispers. “We need to talk.”

“Sorry, Dad!” I call out as we reach the hallway.

Dad says something along the lines of “Don’t worry, honey!” but it’s too late for me to hear it clearly. Rhue has us gliding up the stairs. By the time we reach my bedroom, I am breathless and flustered and slightly confused as I don’t quite understand the urgency.

“Rhue, what the hell?” I hiss.

We’re in my bedroom, and Rhue has just locked the door behind us.

I don’t know why, but I feel hot and vulnerable.

The darkness in his eyes and the smoothness of his movements make him seem like a tiger about to pounce on his prey.

Chills tumble down my spine as he looks at me for what feels like forever.

“Do you remember my mom’s personal assistant?” he asks, finally breaking the heavy silence. With his arms crossed, I realize this conversation will not devolve into any clothes off and gasps for breath and ravenous kissing. Oddly enough, I’m disappointed. “Sibel Osman. Did you ever meet her?”

I have to think about it for a moment. “I may have seen her around your house once or twice, but only in passing, when I was either coming in or leaving a session with you.”

“Tall brunette, long hair, brown eyes.”

“Yeah, legs for days. Turkish, right?”

“That’s her,” he says, his brows furrowing and lips pulled tight. “I saw her today. Turns out she gave conflicting statements to Rochester PD about the day my mother died, but no one ever followed up after the coroner ruled it a suicide.”

“Oh?”

My blood runs cold. Laura’s theory. On the one hand, I’m surprised that Rhue decided to follow up on it.

On the other hand, I am genuinely terrified.

We’re poking a hornets’ nest here, and Rhue is basically a hornet by blood.

He won’t get stung the way I will if Julian catches a whiff of us looking into Roxanne’s death—especially if he did kill her—but even if he didn’t.

It would make him look bad, and if there’s one thing Julian hates, it’s looking bad.

I sit down numbly, and Rhue notices the color leaving my cheeks.

“Maddie, I had to. With everything you told me—everything Laura said—all the stuff in mom’s diary…

I couldn’t leave it at that.” He seems remorseful, but I know he will keep at it, despite feeling this way.

Hell, I would probably do the same. “There’s definitely something fucked up about this whole thing. ”

“What do you mean?” My voice trembles. Every reference to Roxanne’s death and my trauma sets off all kinds of nightmares in the back of my head—dark monsters waiting for nightfall and sleep to hound and torture me until dawn.

“About my mother’s death. I’m not gonna straight up accuse my father, but I think Laura is on to something.

There is something fishy about what happened, and it may have had something to do with Julian.

I found a detective in the Major Crimes unit who seems to agree with me.

” He tells me about his meeting with Cordero, the file he acquired, and his encounter with Sibel.

I listen carefully to the details as he elaborates.

“But in the end, Sibel didn’t have anything new to tell,” I sigh, feeling rather disappointed.

Rhue shakes his head, thinking deeply. “She’s scared, Maddie.

She’s terrified, and I’m pretty sure my father’s paying her to keep quiet.

There’s no way she could afford that place, even if my mom paid her double the going rate.

He’s got everyone under his thumb—bribes, blackmail, or both—except you. ”

“Rhue––” I start to say but find that I can barely speak. My throat is knotted and closed up.

Rhue reaches me in a single breath and kneels on the floor in front of me.

He takes me in his arms and holds me tight.

I forgot how tall he is. How strong. His arms keep me close, locked tightly as his heartbeat echos against mine.

His cologne caresses my nostrils, and I’m softened by a sense of security I’ve not felt with anyone but him.

“Rhue, I’m scared.”

“I can’t undo what he did,” he tells me, “but I can do everything in my power to make sure he pays.”

“But how? He’s untouchable.” I pull back and look at him, my friend turned enemy turned lover turned enemy turned…co-conspirator? I don’t even know what we are anymore, but I know that his touch gives me life after spending a year feeling half-dead.

“There are ways,” he says darkly. “Maddie, listen, my father is not invincible. Right now, he’s desperate to win this election.

It means something to him. I know if he stays paranoid, if I keep him on edge, thinking it’s only a matter of time before his cover is blown, I know he’ll slip up. He’ll make a mistake. We’ll get him.”

I grow still, watching him. Rhue is brave.

Credit must be given where it’s due. He is brave and fearless, and while that is admirable, dammit, it’s not just his own neck on the line.

Julian wouldn’t hurt him. At worst, he’d just muzzle his son and lock him away until it was over.

In the end, I’d be the one suffering again, and my dad would join me in the misery.

I don’t want anyone else to become collateral here.

“I think I’m being followed,” I decide to tell him. It might be just my paranoia, but maybe it will scare Rhue and make him back down. “Julian doesn’t mess around. If he’s got eyes on me, he’ll know you’re here. He’ll know we’re talking, and—”

Rhue takes my hand into his, holding it securely, albeit gently. “And I’ll protect you,” he says. “I promise.”

I shake my head, about to say something. About to give him all the reasons why looking at me the way he does and promising me the things he’s promising isn’t right, but then he inches closer. In the span of a heartbeat, his lips are on my mine, our hands entwined, his body pressing against mine.

My pulse quickens. The rhythm loses any sense, pounding and booming and throbbing in my ears as my blood dissolves, and I melt in his embrace. Our tongues tangle and play, our lips soft as tastes converge.

I don’t mind that his hands move slowly down my back now, quietly searching for the hem of my sweater. His fingertips find my skin, cold on my warm flesh, and I arch my back while he straightens his. Even then, we never break the kiss.

Rhue has one hand going up, fingers slipping beneath my bra strap.

The other is going down, sneaking under my jeans.

He grabs a handful of my ass, and I squirm and gasp.

It makes him smile as he pulls his head back for a second.

He loves getting these reactions out of me, says the playful twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re loving this,” Rhue says, his voice low.

I don’t reply, shuddering when his fingers slip between my ass cheeks and find my flesh slick and hot and yearning for some other part of him.

“Madison,” he sighs.

Rhue pauses—long enough for me to analyze his face, the lines of his sharp cheeks, his elegant jaw and caramel skin.

His finger goes in, and I suck in a breath, quivering from my core.

His brows crease over his dark eyes and he pulls his hand away.

I don’t move, unsure of what he’s doing—unsure of what I want him to do.

I feel like screaming and kissing him, my nerves are jumping all over the place—I’m turned on and terrified all at once and I have no idea what to do.

Rhue places his hands on my hips and touches his forehead to mine.

“I want you,” he says, kissing me softly this time.

“But only if you want me to want you. We can take it slow. I want you to come to me only when you’re ready to stop me if you feel like I’m going too fast. To be vulnerable with me only when you’re ready to call me out if you feel like I’m being an asshole. I don’t wanna hurt you, Maddie.”

Adrenaline is rushing through my veins with nowhere to go. I’m seeing shadows of Julian’s room in the corners of my eyes, shadows of his face flickering across Rhue’s. I’m breathing too hard, too fast, but I’m not getting any air. I’m sinking, falling into a nightmare.

“Dinner!” Dad calls. “Who wants lasagna?”

“Ready?” Rhue asks.

“Give me a second,” I tell him.

Feeling stupid and shaky, I bolt out of my bedroom, down the stairs, and into the bathroom.

“You okay, honey?” Dad calls out from the other side of the door a few seconds later.

“Yeah, just washing my hands. Is there any wine?” I ask, loud enough to be heard.

Dad takes a second to answer, while I let the cold water wash over my wrists. “Yeah, I’ll open a bottle.”

After my hands stop shaking, I lather some soap and get some of the germs out of the way, then proceed to splash some of this cold water over my face. I need a few moments, but ultimately, I prevail. Crisis averted. Anxiety attack not happening. Besides, there’s wine. I’ll be okay.