Page 66 of Liar Byrd
I knocked loudly before I entered his bedroom, banged around emptying his trash, changing sheets, and wiping surfaces. All those soundsshouldhave woken him.
And yet, I’d walked into the bathroom and found his head tilted back, eyes closed, and chest slowly rising and falling. I’d thought he was asleep, but what if he wasn’t?
I test out my theory. “Why did you pretend to be asleep in the bath?”
His lip quirks. “I was curious about what you would do.”
I was right.
“What did you think I would do?”
“Gotten in the bath with me,” he says with a wink.
“No, you didn’t.”
“No,” he agrees. “I didn’t.”
Our gazes lock for two beats, and his eyes flick down, lingering on my mouth.
I surprise myself by not retreating when he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch lingers, the rough pads of his fingers grazing my jaw.
Slowly, he leans toward me. My heart leaps and my chest tightens as I lean ever so slightly away.
“What are you running from, beautiful?” he murmurs.
I don’t know what compels me to whisper, “The devil.”
His forehead furrows, but before he can ask about my devil, Vonn storms into the kitchen, frowning. “Makhi…”
Makhi blows out a frustrated sigh. “You’re like a motherfucking hen the way you peck at me.What?”
“He’s threatening to go to the cops.”
Makhi pushes himself to his feet. “He deserved it.”
“We don’t need more trouble. If Nash…”
“Hegrabbedher,” Makhi snaps.
Vonn’s eyes jerk to mine. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I lie.
The line between Vonn’s eyebrows deepens. When he walks over to me, pulling up the closest chair and studying me, I know what he’s going to say before he says it.
“Can I see?”
I’ve been hiding my arm under the table, hoping Makhi wouldn’t ask to see it. But there’s an intensity in Vonn that makes me think he won’t be so easy to convince that everything is fine.
I lift my arm from where I was hiding it, and Makhi curses long and loud when I place it on the table, my forearm up. My back hurts from Kit slamming me against the wall, but I don’t intend to say anything about that.
Vonn silently studies the finger marks on my wrist. They look like bruises. I’d winced when Kit grabbed me, but I hadn’t thought about whether he was leaving marks. Seeing them reminds me that I’m not safe here. Not anymore.
“Can I…” Vonn’s voice trails off, his fingers hovering inches from my skin.
Remembering how carefully he handled my ankle, I nod.
He’s so gentle as he takes my arm, angling it one way then the next, as if searching for more bruises. “Did he grab you anywhere else?” he asks, voice tight.Controlled.
