Sweet Little Lies

Chapter Forty-One

"You don't have to come in." Griffin turned to the woman in the passenger's seat of his car as he parked it along a street in the west side district.

CeCe looked at him, not wavering in her decision, "I want to."

He frowned, "Try not to show too much emotion in there. Telling someone their kid is dead is one of the worst things you will ever have to do. The more you're in control of your emotions, the easier this will be on both you and them."

"Have you ever had to do this?" She asked in a quiet voice, her big brown eyes peering up at him.

Turning the car off, he unbuckled himself, "More times than I can count."

CeCe didn't say anything after that. She followed him out of the car, pulling her coat tighter to her body. She was wearing a knitted beanie that Griffin had gotten her, her long black hair spilling out from it. It hung past the middle of her back, shiny and silky, constantly daring Griffin to run his fingers through it.

Since she had moved in, they had barely touched. It was a stark difference to their meetings at the club, where she would have to perform for the cameras. He could still taste her on his lips, though, that one singular kiss staying with him more than any interaction he's ever had with a partner. His nights on the couch were consumed with the memories of her body on his, the sensual sway of her hips, and the way her hands glided over her bare skin.

Outside of that environment, CeCe was completely different. She kept her distance, and she was much more serious. He assumed it came from having to raise a teenager while she herself was only twenty-five. This was the time in her life she should be free to do whatever, but instead she was basically a single mom to her sister. All of that responsibility, the pressure and stress, made her grow up faster than she should have.

Griffin didn't know what to think about his feelings and her lack thereof. He never pushed to talk about it, and took her physical and emotional distance as her placing boundaries. He wouldn't sexualize her or pressure her into doing the things she obviously had to back at the club. He also never wanted her to feel like her and her sister's safety was in jeopardy, because she denied his advances.

So, he stayed away, keeping things platonic, although Griffin knew that Cat, CeCe's sister, knew of his feelings. She had teased him privately a few times, obviously feeling comfortable in their new arrangement.

Griffin waited for CeCe to join him on the sidewalk, then they walked up a block, turning into the driveway of an older house. There was a worn down sedan out front, the hood a different color than the rest of the car. The yard was dead, dirt patches showing through here and there.

The house was just like every one on the street. Even the ones that tried there hardest to look nice were clearly falling apart. This area of the city was known for its poverty stricken neighborhoods, often forgotten by the government and the police, fostering a community that kept cycling through the same poverty and jail time. Griffin knew of a few kids that came from the area that now were employed by the Styles' family. There wasn't a lot of opportunities for the people here, so mob life was often a safe haven, allowing them to provide for their families.

His knuckles rapped against the wood door, the sound of a dog barking across the street joining with the rustle of leaves as the wind picked them up. It was relatively quiet, no one outside on a day so cold. Dark clouds were in the distance, promising a storm in the near future.

Griff was looking out at the empty street, canvassing the area, making sure no one was following them, when the door flew open.

"No solicitors." The older woman with a scowl barked, then started to shut the door.