Page 67 of Under the Lies

“Sayer.” By the way he says my name, I know I’m not going to like what’s coming next. “You’re not fucking going back to that apartment.”

Words can be deadlier than any weapon and more often than not, my favorite to wield. I love to watch them fly toward their target, curious on how the recipient will react.

I physically see when they hit Sayer.

Her eyes narrow, lips purse tight “Excuse me?” She’s not happy.

My lips twitch.

It’s cute how she thinks it’s intimidating. She looks like a disgruntled penguin thanks to that ridiculous thing she’s wearing. Twenty-four but dressed like she’s ten.

Did I really think she was the best option to lure out her sister?

Maybe she wasn’t the best choice, any girl would’ve done, truthfully, but I wanted Sayer.

And now someone has her scared and frazzled. Her normally pale skin has faded to alabaster. Her hands give a slight shake while her eyes have gone dull. I can’t stand it.

Someone has stolen her luster, her shine. Those pictures burn in my mind but it’s the letter. The letter that pushed me over the edge. Admittedly, I shouldn’t have shredded it. If I were thinking rationally, I’d save it for Thea to run it through her computers to see if she could match the handwriting.

But that’s what Sayer does to me, stealing all rationale.

“Noah,” she snaps when I don’t answer her question. “What do you mean?”

“You’re moving in with me.” Thought that was obvious when I said she wasn’t going back to her apartment. Peering at her more closely, I ask, “Did you hit your head today?”

“No,” she glowers.

“Huh.” I shrug. “You’re just slow on the uptake today it seems.”

She calls me a colorful name under her breath that has me grinning. I love that I bring out this side of her. The one that curses and fights. It feels like I’m unraveling her piece by piece. And I’m captivated to see who’s left when I’m done.

“No,” she repeats, arms crossed.

“No, what?” I pluck a white hair from my suit, glaring at her cat who’s busy licking his asshole. Creature from hell.

“I’m not moving in with you.” Her voice shakes and I don’t think it’s from fear. “No, absolutely not.”

My grin grows. “This is non-negotiable, Baby Brooks. You are moving in.”

Sayer shakes her head. Her mouth opening in what I’m sure is another protest, but I tune her out as I take out my phone and send off a quick text. Complain and fight all she wants, it is happening.

This isn’t the first time this lamely named X person has tried to contact Sayer. A couple nights ago when I was picking her up to go to a charity auction, there was a note that was slid halfway under her front door. I snatched it up and read what was inside, not caring that it could’ve been something personal.

It was personal, all right, but in a way that was much like the letter Sayer got tonight. Personal in a way that would rattle her. And just like tonight, I got rid of the letter. Both times I wasn’t thinking and instead listened to the fiery rage inside me instead of logic, disposing of it while texting Thea, the tech wiz extraordinaire to get me video surveillance of Sayer’s apartment.

This is what Sayer does to me. Rattles me into listening to my emotions instead of my head.

Emotions make for the weak.

“Noah!” Sayer snaps, frustration bleeding in her tone. “Are you even listening to me?”

“No.” I slip my phone back into my coat pocket before looking at her. Her gray eyes melt with heated silver, showing how frustrated she is. She used to be so prim and proper, never without a strand of hair out of place and seeing her now with strands sticking this way and that gives me a deep satisfaction knowing I can make her unravel.

She makes a noise in the back of her throat that I think is supposed to be a growl but sounds more like a clogged esophagus.

She’s fallen so far since I last saw her, but I’m more drawn to her than ever. Captivated even. My eyes can’t stop drinking her in when we’re together, always discovering something new.

Take the first time I saw her. I noticed all the major changes, how she had changed from a shy teenager to a confident woman. I soaked up the obvious changes, but every run-in that’s followed has been the small, minute details synching my attention.

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