Chapter 12 Lex
LEX
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” The words echoed over and over in my head, each syllable carving itself into my skin.
I didn’t push the pain away. I let it land as I got to my feet and began packing. The pain would be a reminder not to let West in again. I was done with his push-and-pull act.
I shoved enough clothes into a bag to last me at least a week, got my toiletries from my bathroom, and finally picked up my guitar and journal. Those final two items would carry me through whatever was to come. They always had.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I headed out into the living room. Holt and West were talking in hushed tones, gesturing to the space around them.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” My voice was flat, empty, but it couldn’t be helped.
Holt glanced between West and me, frowning. “I’ve got the safe house all set up.”
“Thanks. I’ll ride with you. West can take my truck.” The words were out before I could stop them, self-protection at its finest.
Holt’s brows lifted. “Okay…”
A muscled in West’s jaw ticked. “I can install the cameras and then meet you there.”
“Sure,” Holt agreed.
I was already moving out the front door and down the steps. I hovered on the sidewalk as Holt descended the stairs. He extended a hand, and the locks on a fancy SUV beeped. “Here. Let me take those.”
I let him take my duffel but kept hold of my guitar, giving him a sheepish smile. “I’ve got a thing about handing her over.”
He chuckled. “Understood.” He opened the back hatch, and we laid my belongings inside. Then Holt came around to the passenger door, opening it for me.
“Thank you.” I climbed in and waited for him to get behind the wheel.
It didn’t take long. Holt moved with powerful grace. Starting the engine, he backed out of the parking space.
We were both quiet for the first few minutes of the drive, but every second just had my mind swirling with echoes of West’s words. “Where is the safe house?”
“Up in the mountains. Rustic vacation rental. Our team rented it under an alias.”
I let out a low whistle. “You guys don’t mess around.”
Holt grinned. His smile was beautiful. It should affect me. I strained to feel anything at all for the gorgeous man sitting next to me, but there wasn’t even a flicker.
I sighed, staring out at the passing trees.
“He cares about you. If he’s putting distance between you right now, it’s because he thinks it’s what’s best.”
I glanced back at Holt. His fingers gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles white.
“Sounds like you know a little something about that.”
His jaw worked back and forth. “Sometimes, we have to sacrifice for the people we love the most.”
“Sometimes, you’re just making yourself into a martyr,” I mumbled.
Holt swallowed, his Adam’s apple working with the motion. But he didn’t agree or disagree.
It only took us about twenty minutes to reach the property. A gravel road led to the last thing I would’ve expected. It was a luxury lodge nestled in the pines.
“Are you for real?”
Holt laughed. “No reason we can’t be comfortable while we wait this creep out.”
I hopped out of the vehicle, rounding to grab my guitar while Holt got our bags. We walked up to the door, and he punched a code into the lock. Stepping inside, my jaw dropped.
The space was rustic elegance. It was open, with huge windows and massive, exposed-wood beams overhead. The kitchen could’ve been used to make a culinary feast. The living space had a huge fireplace and an enormous sectional, along with a television mounted over the mantel.
“I’ve gone over the layout already,” Holt told me. “We’ll all stay in the wing to the left. There are three bedrooms.”
“Which one’s mine?” Despite the circumstances, I felt a giddy little thrill at the idea of seeing it.
“Come on.” He led me down the hall and into a room that was all soft blues and grays. It was peaceful with its own back patio. “You’ve got a bathroom through there,” Holt said, setting my bag on the bed.
I looked up at him. “Thank you. For everything. I know this had to cost a lot—”
He waved me off. “It’s nothing. You’re important to Castille, so you’re important to me.”
I swallowed hard, not sure what to say to that. “Is it okay if I sit on the patio and play for a while?”
“Of course. I’ll be in the living room working if you need me.”
I nodded, and he headed out. I set the guitar on the bed and opened the case. My fingers skimmed across the strings. Just that one simple touch grounded me. I lifted her out of the case and headed for the patio.
Settling at the end of a lounge chair, I strummed a few testing chords. It didn’t take long before I lost myself in the music. One song bled into another and then another until my voice was raw, and my fingers ached. But it was everything I needed.
When I finally stopped, I realized the sun was sinking low in the sky. How long have I been playing?
“There’s nothing more beautiful than you lost in your music.”
My head jerked up at the sound of West’s voice.
He leaned against the patio door, his eyes blazing.
“Don’t.” My voice was hoarse, but there was force behind it.
He pushed off the frame. “Don’t tell the truth?”
I stood, laying my guitar on the lounger. “I’m over your hot and cold bullshit. You’ve been doing it for years, and I’m done. So just…don’t. Don’t pretend like you see me one moment and then I’m a stranger the next.”
West stalked closer to me. “You’ve never been a stranger.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He moved in so close I could feel the heat coming off his body in waves. “I’ve always seen you. Even when I was gone for years, visions of you played on repeat in my mind. I could’ve drawn your face from memory with how often I saw you, how often I imagined what your skin would feel like.”
My mouth went dry, and my body lit with each of West’s words. “You don’t get to stand there and say all that, knowing you’ll never see it through.”
West’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and need.
“And I deserve someone who will see it through every damn time. Or else I’d rather do it myself.”
West caught my wrist, tugging me to him. “You talking about touching yourself, Lex?”
I met his gaze, refusing to blush. “A girl has needs.”
His brown eyes darkened to almost black. “Who do you think about when you touch yourself?” His voice was pure grit, skating over my skin in delicious shivers.
I didn’t look away. “You.”