Perfect Lie(27)
“Let me grab my shirt.” He stretched as he stood, towering over me. He had to be around six feet tall, and I felt small next to him.
He disappeared inside the house and came back a few minutes later wearing a deep‐gray shirt.
“Good news! I found your contacts. Bad news is that they were on the floor.”
“Ugh. I have another pair at home.” We headed toward his Barracuda.
“Guess I didn’t need to throw that pair on the floor then.”
I reached to my side and smacked him on the stomach.
“It was a fucking joke!” He put his hands up to keep me from hitting him again as he laughed.
Abel pulled open the passenger door, and I slid inside and waited for him to make his way to the driver’s side. I opened the glove box and pulled out the container of pills from last night, and my fingers bumped something hard. I lifted a stack of papers and pulled out a heavy silver gun. My gut twisted, and I froze with the weapon in my hand.
“Whoa. Let’s put that back where we found it, sweetheart.” He took the gun from my hand and slid it back in its hiding spot. I shook the bottle of pills, and his eyes narrowed and he took them too.
“Why do you have a gun? They’re dangerous.”
“Guns aren’t dangerous. People are.”
“Trust me…I know.Why do you have it?” I tried to shake the grim thoughts of my past from my mind.
Abel laughed and shook his head. “Been watching a lot of movies, Lie? You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I’m not scared of you. I just want to know what it’s for.”
“It’s for protection. It’s to keep me safe, not to hurt anyone else.”
“I’m starting to think you aren’t a nice guy, Abel,” I deadpanned, as I forced my face to go blank so he wouldn’t see how much his having a gun bothered me.
“You think I’m nice?” His smile beamed.
“This is what I get for trusting strangers.” I turned and looked out the passenger window as we pulled out toward the highway.
“Strangers with candy.”
“You are such a drug dealer.”
“You’re nosy.”
“Asshole,” I mumbled under my breath to get the last word in. The guy who had held me all night and opened up to me about his past was gone, and the arrogant jerk from yesterday was back.
“You know, Kettle, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to hurt my feelings.”
“Is it working?” I asked dryly as I looked at him. He was focused on the road ahead and didn’t respond. I reached out and changed the radio station. He gave me a sideways glance but didn’t change it back. In fact he sang along, and his voice was low and gravelly and downright sexy.
“Not bad. You ever think of quitting your drug‐dealing day job and becoming a singer?”
“No, actually.” His fingers drummed the steering wheel, but I thought it was more from nervousness than keeping beat with the song. “My mom was a singer. Not really my thing.” He turned up the radio and switched the station to classic rock.
We pulled up outside my apartment building a few minutes later, and I yawned, dying for some caffeine.
“We could go get some coffee if you want,” he said.
“I try not to consort with criminal types.”
“Am I really that bad?” He stared at me for a long moment.
“Fine. Let me get Trish. I’m sure she could use the pick‐me‐up, and she’s dying to spend time with you anyway.”
“Is she?” he asked smugly. “I wouldn’t have pegged her for the smart one.”
I rolled my eyes and got out of the car, slamming the door behind me.
Chapter Seven
Smoke
The apartment was quiet, and Trish was draped over the couch, her arm over her eyes.
“How’re you feeling?” I asked, as I made my way into my room and stripped off my dress and tugged on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I walked into the hall as Trish headed toward her room.
“Like shit. How do I look?”
“About the same.”
“Whatever. You’re such a whore.”
I tried not to let her comment bother me. Trish had no idea that I was bullied throughout high school, and I knew she didn’t mean it like they did, but it still made me want to replace her shampoo with hair remover.
“I can make you feel better,” I called out, as she closed her bedroom door.
“How?” Her door popped back open, and she stuck her head out.
“Abel is downstairs, waiting to take us for coffee.”
She beamed and closed her door again so she could get ready. I rolled my eyes and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and fix my hair. I looked like hell warmed over twice. My eyes burned from being so dry, and I decided to leave out my contacts. It had nothing to do with Abel, I told myself.