Page 63 of Where Love Lies

“Heston was there looking for me.” Tears fill my eyes, and Rhodes pulls me into his arms and rubs my back. His jaw tenses, eyes going sharp as anger washes over him.

“It’s alright, he ain’t here. You’re okay.” He reassures me, and I exhale a trembling breath.

“I used to think he was a good guy, but lately, I’m scared of him, Rhodes.”

His chest rises, a complex look causing his green eyes to turn the color of a burned-down forest.

“I have some buddies I ride with, I’ll give them a call and see what we can do.”

Biker buddies, like in a motorcycle club? “No, I don’t want this to get any worse.”

“You getting hurt, or Paige, is the worst that can happen, and I’m going to make sure it doesn’t.”

“Rhodes, this is our home not fuckingSons of Anarchy! We need to call the police…”

“Tell me, Rain, how many times have the cops helped you in the past?”

Ready to argue, I think back to Cam and me and the times I was able to slip from his grip and reach the phone to call for help. An officer would show up and Cam would give them some story and that was it. They asked me a few questions and told us to stay away from each other the rest of the night. That’s it. That’s the help I got.

“That’s what I thought.” His voice gets rougher, and I give in. My daughter is at risk because of a guy I brought into our lives, a wolf in sheep’s clothing that couldn’t handle a break-up.

“Okay,” I accept his help, not that saying no would have stopped him. Rhodes is a man who has his own set of rules and he would have gotten into the middle of this situation either way. I still don’t understand why though, since we’re just neighbors, if that.

Inside the house, light noise comes from the living room. Paige is curled up in a corner of the couch, her elbow on the arm rest, her head using her hand as a pillow. She’s expressionless; even as the people on the TV laugh, her eyes are sad.

“Hey baby, I’m back,” I say, setting the food on the counter and masking my emotions so she doesn’t sense something is wrong.

“Hey,” she mutters, not lifting her eyes or head to look at me.

I should have taken her with me, got her out of the house for some sun and fresh air. Then again, I’m glad she didn’t go because of Heston. Rubbing my forehead, I can’t help but wonder how long it’s going to be like this with him. When will he actually move on?

Rhodes sets his things beside me, his strong hands grabbing a chuck of meat wrapped in parchment paper and setting it out on a cutting board. He changed clothes, now wearing a camo-print shirt and tight Wranglers.

Pulling out another cutting board, I dump my apples on it and begin to slice them. After the second one, it becomes a mindless task, and I start to think about Heston. The way he sounded last night was unlike anything I’ve heard from him. Not the time he hit me or even when I gave the ring back. There is so much hurt wrapped around our relationship, like thorned vines pricking us every other way and yet, we kept going, hoping for a beautiful bloom in the end. But there’s nothing pretty here, just ugly scabs that I keep picking at.

“Rhodes, have you ever hit a woman?” I ask, my eyes still on the task at hand.

“I like to smack a woman’s ass, maybe a little throat grabbing in the bedroom, but I’ve never hit a female with ill intention, darling.” A little southern twang presents itself in his reply, making me stare at him a little longer. This rough, wild man, wearing Wranglers with a southern accent, is attractive, a distraction, really, during a rough time in my life. Maybe God sent him to me to help the burden of my past. But the idea that Rhodes is an angel is laughable; he’s a walking temptation ready to be licked and touched in every sinful way.

Jesus, what am I thinking!

“Are you and these motorcycle buddies the real thing?” I ask, because all I can imagine is Jax Teller rushing in with guns blazing.

He chuckles a little, sprinkling seasoning on the patties. “Uh, I don’t really know what qualifies as the real deal, but you don’t want to cross any of them. That being said, they have loyalty and family chiseled into their bones—”

“Your bones?” I interrupt him, curious if he’s anything like them.

He barely looks up, his hands still.

“I wouldn’t be a part of it if I didn’t.”

Chewing the side of my cheek, I take that into account and grab my crust. Pulling it out of the package, I roll it out and knead it. Pulling the recipe open on my phone, I do what it says next, until I’m ready to put it in the oven. Now we wait for forty-five minutes, or at least I do.

Rhodes sits next to Paige on the couch, and I pull my phone out to see if the sheriff wrote me back about Cam, but there’s nothing. When she calls, I need to mention Heston and see what my options are. My phone dings in my hand; it’s a text from Owen.

Best gay best friend, Owen: Hey ho, I know you are occupied by lumberjack neighbor, but I want to know details!!!! Don’t make me come over there!

Inhaling a breath, I close the screen and walk to the living room.

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