Page 23 of Under the Lies

I’m out on display but only he’s watching.

And that does something to me.

Never have I felt the heat of a stare or seen anything as intense in his eyes. They ignite a revolution in me. No one’s ever looked at me like this, like he’s assessing me while drinking me in.

If I thought he made me feel alive at his club, what he stirred up downstairs, it was child’s play compared to this.

His attention feeds me, my moves becoming more daring. My wandering hands become bolder as they glide over my hips.

The air outside is tortuous and I should be freezing, but everything melts under Noah’s stare.

He’s fire. He’s fury.

I spin around, smiling coyly over my shoulder and that’s when everything goes wrong.

Balance—I’ve lost it and my eyes widen in horror as I feel my footing slip, finding ice concealed by the night.

A scream tears my throat.

And I’m falling

Falling

Falling.

My life flashes in short clips.

Moments with my parents. My friends. With my sister. The tears and laughter.

The memories of my granddad and the lurid thought that I’m about to be reunited with him.

Time stops and I scream for I don’t know how long until I realize I’m not falling, but dangling.

Noah.

He’s staring down at me like an avenging angel, determination on his face as he pulls me up like a rag doll.

Once I’m back on the roof, I crumple to the ground. The biting cold pierces past my clothes and I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but the air in my lungs.

I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.

And I’m shaking.

Cold, strong fingers grip my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

Part of me expects some empathy, some compassion but instead his expression is as cold as his frozen fingers. “How do you feel?”

“What?”

“How do you feel?” he repeats.

Alive. “I feel alive.” As strange as that may sound to my ears, I feel awakened.

Noah lets go of my jaw and steps back.

I push myself up, pulling my coat close. He smirks.

“Why?” I ask him. “Why did you make me do this?”

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