AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dixon exited the highway and turned toward Shippers Lane. The familiar path spurred an unfamiliar reaction in her chest, and her mood thickened the closer they came to the shop. When they stopped at the last light, her chest had become so heavy she could hardly breathe, and her throat had closed so much that she could barely swallow. The grin Blair had gifted Dixon had long faded, and his fingers clenched the wheel at the last light.
“You want to drive past,” Lila guessed, fumbling for her mesh hood.
Dixon shrugged.
The light turned green. The truck didn’t budge.
“I don’t want to go either, but there are things I need in your apartment. Besides, you can’t wear the same thing all week. Blair wouldn’t notice, but washing your clothes every morning would get tedious. I don’t care how much you like that pink robe.”
A car honked behind them.
Dixon finally lifted his foot off the brake. The truck limped into the shop.
Lila donned her hood, annoyed that she must wear the damn thing.
Did she really have to anymore? She was an exile, wasn’t she?
On the other hand, why flash her identity if it wasn’t necessary? She only had to wear it one more time, for although Tristan had insisted for years that he needed her expertise, he’d not asked for her help on his current case. He hadn’t even told her what it was about.
It seemed she wasn’t so important after all.
Surprise, surprise. More lies. More empty words.
“This is the last time I come here,” she vowed over the softly screeching brakes. “Should your brother ever require my assistance for anything again, he’ll have to seek me out elsewhere.”
Dixon put the truck into park.
“I’m tired of playing with a hood.”
A wrinkled knuckle wrapped sharply on Dixon’s window. “You two getting out or aren’t you?” Shirley asked, her voice muffled through the glass. Her assistants rolled up on tiptoes at their places, peeking into the truck.
Dixon and Lila disembarked, handing over the keys.
“Boss man’s upstairs.”
Lila trailed upstairs behind Dixon. He peeked into the apartment, craning his head in both direct
ions before making a beeline toward the heater, then the kitchen. Snatching up the kettle, he started a pot of hot chocolate, metal clattering against metal.
Lila shoved her hood into her coat pocket.
The door to Tristan’s room opened. He emerged wearing a pair of pajama pants and a scowl. “Where have you been?” he asked his brother, ignoring Lila altogether.
She wouldn’t have answered anyway. This was the chest she’d wanted to see yesterday evening, not Nico’s, but she didn’t want to see what Katia had made of it. She’d been a little rough the night before, leaving a red mark across his back. Lila couldn’t help but wonder what they’d been doing.
Had she ever left marks?
Dixon flipped to the back of his notepad, remembering at the last moment that no fresh pages remained. He tossed it on the counter and abandoned his kettle, retreating to his bedroom.
Tristan gawked at the abandoned notepad. His eyes slid to Lila, his expression sullen. He didn’t say a word about the nasty bruise on her cheek. Perhaps she only merited concern when they slept together.
That hurt.
She should have grabbed her bag and her laptop. She could have retreated from the apartment and returned downstairs to wait in the truck.
Instead she plopped down on the leather sofa chair, trying to not look at her ex.
Why had she ever laid a finger on Tristan? She’d known how it would play out. She’d only been wrong about how she’d feel about it.
