Page 108 of Under the Lies

“Yes, we are, Baby Brooks.” Reeve rotates his entire body to face me. I don’t like the look on his face, like he wants to put me in my place. One far, far away from him. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and tell us why your sister would come here.”

He knows I don’t have the answer to that, I see that as his lips curl into a cruel smile. I didn’t know my sister came here at all. I’d sooner place her at an axe throwing competition than at a soothing and decadent place like this.

Reeve’s smile grows the longer I’m quiet and I force myself to dig into my memory. Searching for any clues. And the only connection to this place I can make is hearing her sing in the shower.

Sure, let’s go with that. Why not? “She came to sing?”

Once I say it, I wish to swallow the words up immediately. She came to sing? Really, Sayer? I see the same question on Noah’s face. Reeve doesn’t even pretend to be polite as he laughs, a deep belly laugh, at my answer.

“No!” He grabs his stomach like it’s pinching him from all his amusement. “She came here for him.”

He points to a man behind the bar, with dark skin and bright eyes, which are trained on us even as he pours a drink.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?” I glare at Reeve.

“You weren’t. Which means you shouldn’t be here. Luckily we’re close enough to the door. Go wait outside while us big kids play.”

His condescending tone grates against my skin.

“I’m staying,” I say the same time Noah growls, “She’s staying.”

Reeve snarls but doesn’t further comment. It doesn’t take a genius to know which one he actually listened to, but I’m going to pretend it was me.

“Why would she come see the bartender?” I ask Noah since Reeve is already stalking over to him. We’re following at a more relaxed pace.

“He’s a dealer. And they were sleeping together.”

“Is he going to tell us anything?”

“He’s the one that tipped us off.”

Reeve, the perpetual flirt, is already leaning across the bar tracing the rolled up sleeve of the bartender’s shirt by the time we arrive. “Miss me, Rand?”

“Still straight, Reeve.” His eyes flick from Reeve to Noah, to me, where they stay.

“Everyone is a little gay.” His fingers dance up Rand’s.

Rand pushes him away. “Who’d you bring with you, Kincaid? I don’t recognize your friend.”

“Then I guess you’re not reading the paper.”

My face has been plastered next to his every time we go out. I like that Rand doesn’t already know who I am. In a city where recognition is everything, it’s nice to live with a little anonymity. Where I can be Sayer Brooks the person instead of Sayer Brooks the name.

Rand’s lip curls. “I’m not one for elitist lies.”

“Sure don’t mind sleeping with them, though,” Noah drawls.

Tension weaves between the four of us.

“I’m Sayer.” I step toward the bar with my hand stretched out. Always one for manners even when trying to diffuse the thick tautness around all three men.

Rand stares at my hand before gripping it with his own. “You’re the sister.”

“I prefer Sayer, actually.” We’re still shaking hands and Noah clears his throat. I feel his hand at my elbow, pulling it out of Rand’s.

Rand shoots him a look while I can barely contain my smile. Is Mr. Kincaid a little jealous of Rand holding my tiny hand?

“Enough niceties,” Noah growls, glaring at Rand. Why, yes, I do say he is. “Why’d you contact us? Did Harlow reach out to you?”

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