Beneath These Lies (Beneath, #5)(79)

I stared at the wall, seeing the scene replay over and over.

Smears of blood. Broken nails. I’d fought him, and it hadn’t helped.

My eyes constantly darted to the door.

Would they come? Would I fight?

I will survive. Even if I want to die.

I tried to find the strength I’d fought for all these years, but there was nothing left.

My mind shifted, dragging thoughts of Rix to the forefront. I wanted to be strong. Wanted to be the girl who could save herself. But I was foolish. Broken.

He can’t see me like this. I can’t take seeing the pity in his eyes. It would be worse than seeing it in Rhett’s. I couldn’t take it.

God, listen to yourself, Valentina. Stop.

The voices inside me were strong and adamant from both sides. The battle played out in my head as I waited silently with tears streaming down my face.




My sense of time was warped as I stayed curled into my ball. It could have been minutes or hours that had passed before I heard glass shatter, a crash, and men yelling.

Good guys? Or bad?

Weak threads of hope twined together in my belly.

“Go! Go! Go!”

Gunshots.

More yelling.

I squeezed into a smaller ball as doors slammed open.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs.

Oh shit.

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

Something rammed into the door, and the handle flew off on the inside.

I gripped my shins tighter, my gaze fixed on the door. Good guys or bad?

SWAT. It was the first thing I saw when the man in the black vest, helmet, and goggles charged through the doorway, his gun sweeping the room.

The good guys.

“Got her!” He lowered the gun, pressed an earpiece, and spoke quickly. “Hendrix, I’m bringing her out!” The man turned to me. “Come on, Ms. Noble. Let’s get you out of here. Hendrix will be happy as f*ck to see you’re okay.”

Hendrix?

And okay? What was okay? Blood dripped from my face and my hands. It could always be worse. I nodded, my head bobbing. I was sort of okay.

But who was Hendrix? My brain struggled to free itself from survival mode, but I couldn’t answer my own swirling questions. Instead, I just latched onto the fact that he was one of the good guys.

The man helped me to my feet. One of my flip-flops was missing, but I didn’t care. I wanted out of this house. Right now.

“You want me to carry you, Ms. Noble?”

I shook my head and didn’t spit out the words I wanted to. Don’t touch me. Digging deep and grabbing hold of some fleeting reserve of strength, I followed him out of the room.

Bile rose in my throat at the dead bodies on the living room floor, blood seeping out around them into the beige carpet.

Tearing my gaze away, I searched for the door. Out. Now.

Men with SWAT vests swarmed the house, and confusion dogged my every step. Who called in the SWAT team?

One of the men slung his gun over his shoulder and rushed toward us. “Thank f*ck,” he murmured as he grabbed me and pulled me into him.

I jerked back. “Don’t touch me,” I whispered, my voice harsh and broken.

He pulled away, his hands cupping my jaw before I could shove away. “I got you, duchess.”

My eyes met silver ones through the goggles.

Rix.

In a SWAT uniform.

What? My brain couldn’t keep up.

“Let’s get you out of here. Come on.”

He bustled me out the front door hanging drunkenly off its hinges. We reached a black Suburban, and Rix shoved the goggles up off his face and onto the helmet.

“Are you okay?”

That question again.

I nodded, but my heart rate accelerated. Tears stung my eyes at the concern in his gaze.

I wanted to turn away. Didn’t want him to see me like this.

Be strong, Valentina. Don’t break. Don’t let him see you break.

I tried to focus on him, not on the pathetic mess I knew I was. “Why are you wearing a uniform?” My words came out faint and shaky.

Rix ignored my question and ran his hands over my face, hair, arms, and hands. “Fuck. You got some cuts.” I opened my mouth to ask my question again, when Rix returned to the tender spot on my temple. “Already bruising, duchess. Dammit. We need to get you to the ER to get checked out.”

I couldn’t think about my injuries or I’d fail in my promise to myself not to let him see me break. Instead, I grabbed his hand as he smoothed my hair away from my face.

“Why are you wearing a SWAT uniform?”

The man who’d brought me down the stairs joined us at the SUV. “Good to have you back, man. Just like we trained at the academy.”

Academy?

“You want to get her out of here? No one needs to know you were here. Don’t want to blow your cover.” He dug keys out of his pocket and handed them off to Rix.

Blow your cover?

Even in the chaos of my mind, it all slid together. My gaze shot to Rix. His face was hard, but one thing was clear.

Rix wasn’t Rix.

And he’d been lying to me since the day we met.

The knowledge rocked me as the confession bled into his gaze. I didn’t need him to reply to know it was true. Rix isn’t Rix.

Jerking out of his arms, I stumbled back. He let me go—another confession of guilt.