Tangled In Lies (Tangled & Torn #1)

31. Phoenix

Chapter 31

Phoenix

W hen I open my eyes and find the spot next to me empty, I immediately jump out of bed and grab my gun from the nightstand drawer.

No, no, no. Where is she?

I barely bother putting on my boxers before I yank open the door, ready to take on whoever I have to.

“Whoa. Easy there, tiger.” Holden’s walking down the hallway toward me, lifting his arms.

“Where is she?” I don’t bother telling him who she is because he knows no one else would evoke this level of panic in me.

“She’s fine . . . and safe.” He nods in the direction of my open bedroom door. “Why don’t you put on some clothes, and I’ll show you.”

I grumble something unintelligible under my breath but do as he says. Since I trust Holden, I stow away the gun and disappear into the bathroom.

Soon after, I join him again, this time fully dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. He ushers me past the closed music room. I stop and stare at the door, but my best friend steers me toward the staircase.

“Come on, I wanna show you.”

Reluctantly, I follow him downstairs to his domain. Holden’s pride and joy. I let him have full rein, and he transformed the room closest to the garage into a state-of-the-art security office, complete with an entire wall of monitors. When we enter, Niko and Darrell look up from their chairs, mumbling greetings.

Holden nods toward the door and says, “Time for a coffee break.”

They hurry out of the room with a curt, “Yes, sir.”

Holden points toward the middle screen in the top row, but I’ve already found her.

Eve is in the music room, sitting at the piano. And she’s playing.

“She’s been in there for the past hour.” Holden sits in one of the unoccupied chairs, leaving me to stand alone.

“Can you turn it up?” I stare at the screen, unable to tear my gaze away from her.

“Sure. One sec.” He clicks some buttons until music fills the room.

The melody is unfamiliar, but I’m immediately captivated by it. It’s different from anything I’ve ever heard before. It starts sad and heavy but evolves into a happier, lighter tune. The music stops, and Eve takes her hands off the keys to write on a piece of paper. Then, she’s back to playing the same melody as before but with a slight change toward the end.

My head snaps to Holden. “She’s not just playing but composing? ”

His grin is answer enough, but he nods anyway. “It seems like it.”

My lips part, and I’m back to staring at the screen.

We’re both quiet, content to watch her.

But Holden wouldn’t be Holden if he could keep his mouth shut for long.

He clears his throat. “Something is different about her this morning. She came downstairs to get food before she practically skipped into the music room. Even when she was slamming the door in my face, she kept smiling and bouncing on her feet like an excited kid on Christmas morning.”

I smile at his description, having witnessed Eve like that before.

He scoffs. “She must have had a really good night for her to be in such a good mood.”

Last night wasn’t just really good but incredible. Life-changing. For both of us, and for more reasons than just mind-blowing sex. I can’t even describe it, nor will I try to explain it to Holden, but something big happened. I still feel it.

“We had a good night,” I ignore his snort, “but her behavior isn’t about that. This is about her music. She’d get like this whenever she had an idea for a new song. It lights her up from the inside, and she can’t fully contain it. Some people are meant to shine like that.”

This time, Holden doesn’t give me a snarky reply, so I look at him. He’s wearing an odd expression, like something I said upset him.

He lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

The way he says it makes it sound like there’s a story behind it, but movement on the screen catches my eye before I can dig deeper.

Eve stands and stretches her arms overhead, leaning from one side to the other.

“What the fuck?” I see red and yank open the door to run upstairs. Why does she have so much skin on display?

I get to the music room just as Eve opens it. Her eyes go wide for a split second until she realizes it’s me, and she gives me one of my broad smiles. It brightens her whole face, and it’s pretty much impossible to be mad or irritated with her.

Before I can say anything, she jumps into my arms. “Hey.”

Everything is forgotten the moment I catch her.

With her body flush with mine, my fingertips find the bare skin of her thighs. Eve is busy devouring my lips and digging her hands into the hair at my nape. It’s wild and chaotic. Exhilarating. It’s everything.

I walk us forward until I find purchase against the wall, needing to feel her even closer. I want to crawl under her skin to ensure my blood runs in her veins as strongly as hers runs in mine.

When I knead her soft bare ass cheeks, I remember why I raced here.

Shit. At least my frame should cover most of her in this position, in case anyone dares to watch us on the camera feed.

“Angel,” her nickname comes out in a growl, “what are you wearing?”

She pulls back with puffy lips and glossy eyes.

Just the way I like it .

So damn beautiful and sexy.

She glances down at her body and shrugs. “I thought you like it when I wear your shirts.”

I groan. “I do. But fuck, you need to wear more than just a pair of small panties underneath when you wander around the house, so you don’t give my security team a show when you stretch.”

Her mouth opens, then closes. “There are cameras in the music room?”

I shrug. “There are cameras pretty much everywhere in the house.”

“In my room?”

Damn it. “Yes.”

She narrows her eyes and sighs. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

I stay silent.

“In your bedroom?” Her voice is about an octave higher than before.

I immediately shake my head. “No, of course not.” Leaning close to her ear, I whisper, “What’s underneath this shirt is for my eyes and my eyes only, understood? No one, and I mean, no one gets to see what’s mine.”

Her tongue darts out to lick my earlobe. “You know, I should be offended over your little caveman speech, but I’m not too ashamed to admit that it was a major turn-on.”

A cough sounds behind me, and I close my eyes.

I know that cough.

Holden clears his throat. “For reasons beyond me, we can pretend I didn’t hear what the princess just said.”

Eve hides her face in my neck, and I shift a few inches to the side to ensure I cover her entire body. All Holden can see are her legs wrapped around my waist.

“Anyway,” he continues, undisturbed, “I realize this is a bad moment, but I just got a call from O’Neal. It’s urgent.”

That immediately gets my attention, and I stiffen. O’Neal is the detective we have deep in our pockets, and the reason why the police didn’t bother us relentlessly after the car bomb.

I glance over my shoulder at my friend. “Did he say what it’s about?”

“They got a tip and picked someone up. He hasn’t confessed, but they found more of the same explosives that were used on your car at his house, and apparently other damning evidence.” Holden huffs. “You will not believe who it is.”

“Who?”

“Ben Rodgers.”

I almost drop Eve at the news.

She looks back and forth between Holden and me with wide eyes, wriggling around in my arms to get down. “Owen’s dad?”

I hear the same shock in her voice as I feel, and it takes all of my control to let her go slowly, still covering her in case her shirt rides up. “What the fuck? We checked him out.”

Holden’s features tighten. “I know.”

Once Eve’s feet hit the floor, she’s a bundle of nerves. Pacing, wringing her fingers, glancing up and down, left and right, until she stares straight at Holden and inhales deeply like she needs to work herself up to the question. “Did they say what other evidence they found? ”

He holds her gaze. “O’Neal said there were videos and photos of you from the last few years.”

Her lip wobbles as she takes in that information.

“I will kill him.” I pronounce each word slowly, trying to control the rising anger inside me before I do something I’ll regret later. The need to pick up the nearest object and throw it is nearly impossible to subdue.

Holden turns toward me. “He said he can give you five minutes with him if you . . . you know, in case you had any questions for him.”

Holden’s doing a terrible job hiding the double meaning, but either Eve didn’t hear it, or she’s ignoring it.

The happiness and exuberance from just minutes ago are gone. She’s clutching her arms to her chest, and her skin is visibly paler than before. She looks so broken, and I know she’s lost in her memories.

I want to hold her and be there for her, but before I can step toward her, Holden speaks up again.

“Phoenix, if you want to do this, you have to leave right now. Niko and Darrell are waiting downstairs for you. Unless you want me to come with you?”

I shake my head. “No, you stay here with Eve.”

Unable to leave without at least holding her in my arms one more time, I pull her close and tilt her face upward. She blinks at me with her lost gaze.

“I have to leave for a few hours, but Hold will stay with you, okay?”

I press my lips to hers before she can say anything, letting my senses wash over every detail of her. Then, I force myself to step back and head downstairs.

My hand connects with Ben’s face again. This time, the asshole collapses, and a satisfying crunch of breaking bone occupies the air.

O’Neal steps between us, glaring down at the man as if he also wants to get a kick in while he’s down. I certainly wouldn’t hold him back.

“I’m afraid this is where the fun has to end. Any more, and no one will believe he fell down the stairs somewhere.”

He cackles like this is just another ordinary day for him, and maybe it is, but I don’t care. O’Neal is the reason I have this moment, so I can’t complain about his police procedures or the lack thereof.

He grabs Ben by the back of his polo shirt and pulls him up. Blood gushes from his nose, dripping into his mouth and down his chin.

Although Holden and I considered him as a suspect, I never truly expected some run-of-the-mill middle-aged guy to be our psychopath. But then, it only proves you often have no idea what’s a facade and what hides behind it. My father is a prime example of what evil can look like in a fit body and custom-tailored suit.

O’Neal drags Ben to his car. So far, he hasn’t said a single word. His only reaction was surprise when I arrived that quickly morphed into disgust, right before my fist connected with his face.

Ben dips his head to get into the car.

I ask my question one last time. “Why did you do it?”

He spins around and sneers at me. “Because you and your precious fiancée were the easier targets.”

“Easier than who?”

Spittle flies out of his mouth. “Your piece-of-shit father and hers. You’re all a bunch of entitled assholes, and the world would be a better place without all of you. You deserve to rot in Hell.”

O’Neal raises a brow at me before he pushes Ben inside the car. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a dickhead who’ll be gone for a very, very long time.”

I push my hands into my pockets, wincing when my knuckles brush the fabric. “Thanks for the call.”

“Anytime. I’ll let you know if we find anything else.” He gives me a small salute and slips into his undercover police car.

I watch them leave, staring at the spot on the horizon where they disappeared long after they’re gone.

A noise behind me snaps me out of my trance, and I turn to stare at Niko, who has one foot out of the SUV.

“You okay there, boss?”

I glance over at Darrell in the passenger seat, who’s wearing a similar expression as Niko, furrowed brows and eyes full of concern. Maybe they’re questioning my sanity, and I can’t even blame them. These days, I’m right there with them. To be honest, I forgot they were even here, so perhaps they have a reason to worry.

“Let’s go home.” I walk toward the car.

Niko gets out to open the back door for me.

The drive is silent as I stare at the gray clouds, going over what just happened, trying to take every one of Ben’s facial expressions and words apart. Over and over.

The world would be a better place without all of you .

The words still replay in my head during my walk from the garage into the kitchen.

Right now, I have two goals and two goals only.

First, getting a drink.

Second, getting lost in Eve until this day ends and I pass out from exhaustion.

Huxley’s wiping a large bowl with a kitchen towel. He gives me a once-over, his eyes immediately widening. Damn it.

A glance at the time tells me it’s dinner prep time. I should have paid more attention to the time and gone straight upstairs, reducing the risk of running into anyone.

“Sir. Are you all right?” He drops the towel and bowl and comes around the island. “Your shirt.”

My hand goes toward where he’s pointing on reflex, and he lets out a quiet gasp at the sight of my hand. A glance at my shirt confirms my suspicion that I must have gotten more than just my knuckles bloody.

“I’m fine.” Ignoring my shirt and my hand, I focus on the long wall of cabinets and grab a glass from one.

Huxley intercepts me at the liquor tray. “Sir, please let me help.”

The old man is fluttering around me like a nervous mother hen, and I don’t care right now.

He almost pushes me aside, takes my favorite whiskey from the tray, and pours me a large heap.

“Thanks.” I grunt out before drinking it in one go.

By the time I set down the glass, Huxley has produced a first aid kit, and is already rummaging around to get what he needs. I let him fret. He cleans my wounds, applies ointment, and bandages them. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can devour Eve.

That asshole psychopath will never touch her again, not even with a speck of his blood.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to patch someone up.” Huxley gets rid of all evidence and smirks at me. “Your grandfather could be a bit of a hothead sometimes, especially when your grandmother was involved.”

Despite the pain that hits me every time I think about my grandparents and that they were taken from us too early, I still have to chuckle at Huxley’s comment.

“Your grandmother was incredibly protective too, but her ways were more . . . let’s say more subtle than your grandfather’s.”

“They both loved fiercely and protected what was theirs.” I’ve always wondered how my father became the person he is with such amazing parents. But then Grandpa would tell me he wasn’t always like this, that somewhere he took a wrong path, listened to the wrong people, and became too greedy. I think they always hoped he’d change back into the man he used to be, the man I only know from stories.

Huxley nods. “That they did.” He pauses for a moment. “They would have adored your Evangeline. Sometimes, I see the same spark in her eyes that I saw in your grandmother’s.”

Your Evangeline.

My Evangeline.

The only reason she’s mine is because I forced her to marry me, a decision that was entirely led by my blind hatred for her.

Something tugs at the back of my brain. Something I didn’t even think about before. Because Huxley isn’t wrong, Eve is a lot like my grandmother, and she wasn’t a doormat.

I was so blinded by my hatred and my need for revenge that it didn’t even occur to me that the Eve I used to know wouldn’t just agree to marry me so quickly.

Yet, in less than a day, she went from proclaiming she’d never marry me to suddenly accepting the arrangement.

Fuck. Why didn’t I see that before now?

With a quick “Thanks” to Huxley, I’m out of the room and on my way to find Eve.

I need answers, but first, I need her.