Page 64 of Mischievous Lies

“Then come with me. Fuck this guy,” Jared says, encouraging her into his arms so he can leave. I’m impressed that instead of comprehending he’s been backed into a corner, his tiny ego thinks he’s a king when a goddess is standing in front of him with a knife in her hand.

She does exactly as he says, stepping into his space, and I watch with fascination as she angles the knife and stabs it straight into his stomach. I’m already moving, shifting behind them as if we’re in a big group hug, and I cover his mouth when he goes to scream.

“Makayla deserved better than you,” she seethes under her breath. “I saw the whole thing, you piece of shit.” Then her gaze slides to meet mine, and I can’t remove the shit-eating grin from my face. I’m so fucking proud of her, and my cock is so fucking hard.

Is she a killer? No. Is she a scornful goddess? Yes.

His breath comes in short bursts as she removes her hand from the knife protruding from his stomach. She’s shaking but holds the determination of a woman’s wrath. Fuck, she couldn’t be any hotter. I reach into my back pocket, pull out a wad of cash, and throw it on the table. I’m already going to hear about this from my parents, so I better make sure the bill’s paid, at the very least.

I maneuver him toward the door as Ivy grabs her purse and slides the strap over her shoulder, quickly following me out. The fucker can barely use his legs, so stunned by the knife hanging out of his stomach. I continue leading him to the car as Ivy walks in front of us, blocking the protruding knife from anyone’s view. I stare at her back, knowing in that moment, I’ve undoubtedly just fallen in love.

Ford already has the back door open and is waiting expectantly. Ivy notices Billie in the passenger seat but says nothing as they offer each other a tense smile. Okay, maybe we’re not good influences on them, but I haven’t witnessed anything more perfect as my brother and I pushing a sad sack of shit into the back of his car.

Jared tries to struggle, but it’s clearly his first time being stabbed because he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his body. When his ass is on the seat, and Ford is blocking us from being seen, I pull the knife out of Jared’s stomach, charmed by the blood glistening on the blade. It pisses me off how he holds his stomach, his breathing starting to go erratic as he panics. But I want his attention again. I wave the knife in front of his face.

“You thought she was a good girl,” I say. “She’s my very favorite bad girl.” I wink and then stab the knife into his leg. The moment his mouth opens to scream, I punch him in the face hard enough to knock him out cold, and he falls onto the seat.

“I’ll see you there,” Ford says, nodding to me and walking around to the driver’s seat.

Ivy leans into the passenger window and asks Billie, “Why are you here?”

“We’re in this together,” Billie replies with a small smile. “You didn’t think I’d let you fight this on your own, did you?”

“You’re looking more like a passenger princess to me, Billie Taylor,” I say, coming up behind Ivy.

Billie pokes out her tongue, and then they drive off. When we’re alone, Ivy finally turns around to face me. “Where is he going?”

“Somewhere where I can play later. But right now, what are you doing looking mighty fine dressed like that?” I pull her in by the hips so she can feel my hard-on. She seems almost confused as she places her hands on my chest.

“He was the one who tried to drug me.” I stare at her momentarily, realizing he’s worse than I gave him credit for. Maybe I won’t hand him over to Braxton after all.

“I’ll make sure he pays for that.” I lean down and kiss her lips. She responds willingly. I want to take all of her worries away, and my cock jumps at the thought of her stabbing him again. I wasn’t expecting that from her. Then again, Ivy has always been a wild card.

“Shouldn’t we go now?” she asks breathlessly.

“No fucking way. I’m taking you first before I get blood on my hands. And let me tell you right now, Ivy, that says a lot. I love fucking you more than I do torturing a man.”

“That’s kind of fucked-up. Maybe we should focus on?—”

I tilt her jaw so she’s forced to look at me, making her understand there is no option. “I need you now. I don’t like you touching other men, although watching you work turns me on more than it should.”

Her eyebrows dip as she stares at my lips, and I know she’s as hypnotized as I am. We always have been, it’s why we naturally gravitate toward one another.

“Are you upset because I was on a fake date?” she asks as her lips brush against mine. I groan. Her scent and feather-light touch are enough to make me want to come, and that’s a serious problem. I’ll never have enough of this woman.

“Nope. Because I knew no matter what, it was my bed you’d end up in. So let’s go home. Work can wait for another hour.”

She chuckles. “You think you’ll last that long unassisted?”

I grab her ass and squeeze hard as punishment. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

She grins as she pulls me into her with a defiant “Nope.” But I know as she kisses me. I can feel the shift in her body, the tension receding as I pull her into me and remind her throughtouch that, no matter what challenge she takes head-on, I’ll always be there to back her up.

This is my place.

By her side.

It’s never been more abundantly clear.

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