Page 166 of Under the Lies

Reeve and Gabe?

Pushing them away, I continue the walk to my lake, leaning against the giant oak tree once I’m there.

But I’m not alone for long.

A branch snaps causing me to whip my head to the sound. My heart jumps until I see the culprit. Noah stands in the clearing, hands in his pockets. Watching me with worry.

“Couldn’t even give me five minutes?” I ask, a small smile touching my face. Thankful that he’s here. Aside from light, he’s the only thing to chase my fears of the dark away.

“Please,” he says, walking toward me. “I had to get away from Donald Rodgers before I strangled him. He wouldn’t fucking shut up.”

“It’s not like you would’ve went away for murder. Everyone is in your pocket.”

“Not everyone,” he says, giving me a pointed look.

Is he talking about me?

I don’t get a chance to ask.

He’s close enough now for his hand to cup my cheek, tilting my face up to meet his eyes. His touch brings a burn to my skin. One that thaws me as I lean into it.

“Are you going to ask me how it went?” I ask when it’s quiet for too long.

“No.” His thumb strokes my cheekbone. “I can take a healthy guess, but you’re out here, so that’s enough for me to know not well. This is where you always went when you were overwhelmed back when you were a teenager.”

I blink up at him in surprise. “You remembered.”

He smirks, but it’s sweeter than any he’s given me in the past. Less arrogant. “You’re a hard person to forget, Sayer Brooks.”

I suck in a breath, seeing the emotion behind his glasses, but I’m robbed from saying anything as Noah lowers his mouth to mine.

A kiss that never comes.

“Well, isn’t this adorable.”

We pull apart as someone else joins us.

My chest feels heavy as I see who it is.

Stepping out of the trees, with a twisted, nasty look on her face as she takes in me and Noah, is my elusive sister. “My invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail.”

Harlow Brooks.

The antithesis of Sayer.

Where Sayer is smiles, Harlow is snarls.

Where Sayer is timid, Harlow oozes confidence.

One who bleeds with her heart, the other who drips apathy with her soul.

Two siblings who couldn’t be more different.

Wearing her usual all black ensemble, Harlow looks the same as she did when she stole my ledger, except there’s an ugly look twisted on her face as she drinks in my embrace with her sister.

Untangling from Sayer, I have this urge to do two things. Two reactions pulling me in opposite directions.

To get my hands on Harlow like I’ve wanted to for weeks—finally she’s here in front of me, only strides separate us. It wouldn’t take much.

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