Chapter Eighteen
Alexandra
After a long time driving in silence, Dixon speaks.
“You did good back there, Alexandra. More than held your own,” he says. His eyes are on the road, but it still feels like his focus is on me; I don’t just feel watched, I feel seen. “Whoever taught you, taught you right. The way you kept calm, kept your wits and knew how to fight back, you’ve done them proud.”
Silence falls between us again, nothing but the rumble of the car’s engine and the sound of the road beneath the wheels. I stare out the window at the passing dark.
What do I say to that?
How do I answer the man who I hate more than anything, who’s just cut through that icy wall around my heart with a compliment that brings tears to my eyes?
Do I tell him that the person who taught me everything was my brother?
That making Lucas proud is the kindest thing he ever could have said to me?
But, when I look at him, I see the glistening of truth in his eyes: he already knows.
“Thank you.” I let silence resume between us, hating him a little less.
Or maybe a lot.
It’s not long before the outskirts of Costa Oscura rise in the distance and the smell of salty sea air hits my nose. I breathe it in, let it bring life to my aching body. I’ve been up for way-too-long, been in a bareknuckle fight, and I’m still feeling gentle, fading aftershocks of the orgasms that Lars ‘Bison’ Buckowski gave me in the guest suite of Jeremiah Brock’s mansion.
“Where to now?” He says.
“My place. Seraphina and Kyle can wait. I want to shower, I want to eat something, I want to sleep.”
Dixon turns the wheel, taking us down the streets that’ll lead to my crappy apartment in the crappiest part of Costa Oscura. It ain’t much, it ain’t even worth the rent, but it’s home. When we pull into the parking lot, Dixon suddenly slams on the brakes. “Son of a bitch.”
My senses spring to alertness and I clench my aching hands into fists. It’ll hurt to hit someone in the face again, but I’ll do it if I have to.
“What is it?”
He gestures, his voice a mix of irritation and something that might be amusement. “See that?”
“Why is there a semi-truck parked here?”
“It’s Moose.” He drives alongside the semi, parks, and gets out. He approaches the driver’s side door and bangs on it. “Get out, Moose, you asshole. What the hell are you doing here?”
The door opens and the exceptionally large trucker gracefully dismounts his vehicle, landing lightly on his feet. He’s all grins, and the second he exits his truck, I get out of the car, too.
“Dixon, Alexandra, good to see you both. How’d it go?”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you staking out Alexandra’s apartment?” Dixon says.
“Seraphina’s orders. But my suggestion, originally.”
“Why?” I say.
“Because they wouldn’t let me go with you guys to the party at Jeremiah Brock’s,” he says. “I decided that, since I couldn’t go with you, I’d rather wait here, just in case some of his men followed you. That way, I could back you up, if need be. The thought of you two getting hurt, it just…” His words end in an abrupt sigh. “I don’t want to think about it. I like you both too much.”
I wrap him in a hug. “It’s OK, Moose. Everything turned out fine. Dixon and I are safe.”
“That’s good.”
“Also, Dixon came in some guy’s face,” I say, adding a teasing laugh I know will rile Dixon up. “Got him right in the eye.”
“Damn it, Alexandra,” Dixon snaps.
“I can’t believe I missed that,” Moose says, sounding exceptionally disappointed. “Dixon, maybe later, do you want to show me how…”
“No,” Dixon cuts him off sharply, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe some other time, Moose. But not today.”
Moose nods understandingly, but the disappointment is still clear in his eyes.
“Come on,” I say, patting Moose on the arm. “Let’s get inside. I desperately need a shower and Dixon does, too. Moose, I’ve got plenty of beer and snacks in my fridge. You can do guard duty just as well from my couch as you can from the cab of your semi. Plus, you play your cards right, you might even see Dixon walking around in a towel.”
Moose’s eyes light up. “Really?”
“Damn it, princess,” Dixon says. “Moose, I can tell you now, you’re not getting a show and I will not come in your face.”
“What about the other way around?”
“No.”
We enter the building. Inside my apartment, the cramped space feels smaller than usual because Moose takes up so much room just by existing. He eyes the surroundings, which are an incredible mess because of the fight that took place here the other night.
“This reminds me of my first apartment. It’s a little cleaner, though. And missing the, uh, table with straps on it,” he says as he walks through the mess, then takes a seat on my couch. The sofa emits a pained groan as he settles into it.
“I’m going to grab a bite to eat, then get cleaned up,” I say. The first thing I grab is a beer and a leftover burrito, which I bite into cold. Burritos are good, warm or cold, fresh or… older than I’d like to admit. When I turn around, Dixon is standing in the entryway to the kitchen, watching me. When he’s not being the biggest asshole in the world, I have to admit, he’s almost attractive. “What do you want?”
“A beer, for starters,” he says.
I toss one to him.
“Thanks,” he says. The beer can releases a satisfying hiss as he pops it open. “But there’s something else I want, too.”
“What’s that?”
“You just brushed off how well you did back there. Alexandra, that mission wouldn’t have succeeded if you hadn’t been there. I’m serious. Maybe I could’ve gotten into that party on my own, but I sure as fuck couldn’t have made it out. It was because of you we have that flash drive and we’re standing here with nothing more than some minor bruises. You did good. Real fucking good. And I mean that.”
Is that sincerity in his voice? Honesty in his smoldering, soul-sucking eyes?
“I don’t know what to say…”
I really don’t. I’m not used to genuine compliments from him. I’m used to him being an asshole the size of the Grand Canyon and telling him I hope he dies slowly in a tragic accident.
“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that your brother would be damn impressed with the way you handled yourself. I’ve known guys in this life who couldn’t have done half as well as you did back there.”
He’s looking at me in a way that makes me squirm; bits and pieces inside me — walls, prickly defenses, those icy, spiny, poisonous things that have kept me motivated and safe for so long — change. Come apart. Re-shape themselves into something that is altogether new and wholly frightening.
“Stop it,” I say.
He doesn’t know the damage he’s doing.
“Stop it? Why? You’re smart, capable, and I think we have a good chance of getting to the bottom of what happened to your brother,” he says. There’s earnestness in his voice, along with two other equally dangerous things: respect and hope. He’s sounding less like a man who wants to die, and more like a man with a reason to live.
And the way he’s looking at me? Unacceptable.
“Dixon, that’s enough.”
It’s too far. Too much. I can’t have him talking to me or looking at me like he’s anything other than the piece of shit who murdered my brother. The second he becomes something else, that’s the second that other feelings — feelings I’ve so desperately fought from the moment I first laid eyes on him — surge in. And then the question becomes: what is he to me if not the man that I hate?
“Keep your fucking opinions to yourself,” I say, loud, and throw the half-empty beer at him. It hits the wall with a loud thwack.
“Is there a problem in there?” Moose’s voice comes from the living room. “Dixon, whatever it is you’re trying, the lady said ‘no.’ And I’ll tell you one thing: there’s nothing sexier than consent. Consent is mandatory. Unless it’s one of those consensual non-consent things. Those walk a finer line. They can be hot as hell, but you really need to know what you’re doing, and I just don’t think you two have known each other long enough to have laid the groundwork for that type of fun.”
“Moose, I love you, but Dixon and I are having a thing.”
He nods. “Got it. You know what, if you don’t mind, I’m going to grab one of your beers and take a walk. You two take your time. Text me when things are good, OK?”
“Stay safe, Moose,” Dixon says.
When the door shuts behind Moose, I glare at Dixon.
“This isn”t just about the mission anymore, is it?” My voice trembles in my throat, a frightened, wary thing.
“What do you mean?”
“Somewhere along the way, this became real for me — you became real. And I can”t pretend otherwise.” I stop, look down at my feet, feet that are filled with the urge to cross the room to him. Then my feet that do just that. “I know that I’m supposed to hate you. In a way, I do. You’re still an asshole. And you’re still a smug prick. And you’re still someone that I want to punch, but…”
“But?” he interjects, a hint of vulnerability shimmering beneath his poised exterior.
“I don”t only feel anger when I”m around you. There”s something else, and it’s messing with my head.”
“Like you don’t know what’s up from what’s down?” He says. There’s a knowing look in his eyes, one that sears into me, burns through all the lies I’ve built around my heart. “Like what’s in front of you might be the most terrible choice you could ever make, or it might be the best one, and you don’t care either way. You know you’re going to make it because there’s no other way that you want to be?”
“Dixon? What are you saying?”
Deep down, I know what he’s saying. Words I’m too scared to say.
“I”ve spent so long convincing myself that I don”t deserve this... Thinking that I was a killer who didn’t deserve to live. But standing here now, with the prospect of finding out that the thing I’ve told myself for so many years is actually a lie, I can”t imagine being anywhere else. You”ve turned my world upside down, Alexandra.”
“This is going to end, Dixon. We’ll get a name, and maybe it’ll lead us to someone else, and maybe that someone will be the person really responsible, but what happens then? It’ll end.”
Dixon reaches out, his fingers brushing mine with a touch that sends a shockwave coursing through my veins. “Some endings are beginnings in disguise. Even people like us can get second chances.”
Frowning, I look at him. Look at every hateful, hopeful line on his handsome face; at those eyes that tease me just as much as they tempt me; at those lips that so often spark me to searing rage with their smirks, that I so ache to taste. Can he really be a part of my future?
“Even the prospect of something new scares me. I wouldn’t know where to begin. Wouldn’t know if I even want to… I mean, what will my life look like, then?”
“Maybe things will change. Maybe we’ll want to start over, maybe we won’t,” he says, leaning closer. “But there is something that I know I want without a doubt…”
“What is it?”
“This.”
He kisses me deeply.
In that moment, the world falls away. Dixon”s lips are firm against mine, possessive, powerful, and his kiss sends every thought scattering like leaves in a high wind. I moan, and I respond with a hunger from the deepest part of me.
This isn’t a charade.
This is him.
This is me.
And this is all-too real.
His hands cradle my face, thumbs brushing away the ghost of old fears and new uncertainties. I let out a small sigh that”s swallowed by the warmth of his mouth moving against mine, and all the barriers I’ve built, all the walls that made me who I am — they just don’t seem so necessary anymore.
“Alexandra,” he whispers. “Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. This isn”t an ending. It’s not even a beginning. It’s just... us. And right now, that’s all we need.”
I kiss him once more, famished for something that I denied myself for so long.
At the end of that kiss, I look into his eyes. What I see reflected in there are the same emotions that scream inside my chest and something deeper, something I never really thought I’d find, especially not with him. Yet maybe I didn’t find it, maybe it found me.
“You’re right. Let’s leave that question for the future. Right now, there’s a bigger, more important question right in front of us.”
“What’s that?”
“Will you come to bed with me?”