Page 107 of Under the Lies

A sense of power, control takes hold of me as I turn on the flashlight from my phone—because there is no way I’m walking down there without some sort of light. I’d break my neck and my ankle and bruise my butt if I tried. Noah moves silently behind me. Not complaining as I take the stairs one slow step at a time.

There’s a fire in my pulse, a drum in my chest as the music gets louder. Excitement. I can hear saxophones, a piano. And is…is that at trumpet?

With the help of my flashlight, I see a door at the bottom of the stairs.

Where does it go and the soulful music lead?

I try to find out when I reach the base of them, but there is no doorknob. I try to push against it. Nothing.

Behind me, Noah chuckles as his arm reaches over my shoulder and does a quick, three knuckle knock against it.

The door swings open.

“I loosened it for you,” I grumble.

Noah chuckles in my ear as his hand finds the small of my back and urges me forward.

My mouth drops open as I do.

“This lurks beneath a library?” This is the place my sister regularly visited? “A jazz bar?”

Noah doesn’t say anything, just pushes me farther inside. I stumble into the lounge, eyes wide and soaking up everything.

Lit up in an inferno of red, there is a little stage where a singer in a beaded shift dress croons into a microphone, where a trio of saxophones sing, and piano keys dance.

People sit enraptured at the tables near the stage, on the couches along the fabric walls.

“Took you long enough,” a familiar voice says from a couch close to the entrance. “I didn’t know we could bring friends.”

Reeve watches us with amusement as a clean-cut man in a white button-down and suspenders plays with the corded necklaces that sit on Reeve’s chest.

“Looks like you found a friend yourself.” I cross my arms over my chest as if that’ll protect me from the glare he sends my way.

“Ah.” Reeve pats his friend’s head before pushing away and sliding off the couch. He moves with the grace of a cat. “He was just a means to pass the time since my boy here,” he waves a hand in Noah’s direction, “was uncharacteristically late. At least I now know why.”

Speaking of cats…

“How’s Pan?” I miss my little fluff ball so much. I’ve asked Noah to let him come back and he’s still firm on the ‘no animal in my house’ rule, but he lets Reeve still come over soooo it’s not the strongest argument.

“Didn’t you get the picture I sent you?” He tilts his head to the side in question.

Reeve sends me pictures of him almost daily, going so far as to making Pan pose with different props. The one he sent this morning had Pan wearing a top hat, bow tie, and a suit jacket with coattails. He looked adorable in his outfit and murderous expression.

Noah mimics my stance of arms crossed as he draws the conversation away from my cat. “Where’s Gabe?”

“The handsome Gabriel couldn’t make it tonight, unfortunately.” Reeve frowns. “We had a fight.”

“About what?” I take it the two men hardly ever fight from the way Noah’s watching Reeve.

“Oh, just something trivial. Nothing of relevance.” He waves Noah’s concern away. “Not like your reasoning for bringing her.”

He says it as if I’m not standing right in front of him. “Uh, hello. Hi. I’m right here. And he brought me here because I asked him to.”

Reeve squints at me. “I don’t remember you talking back as much.”

“I feel like it’s a recent development,” Noah chimes in. “Apparently I bring it out of her.”

Again with the talking like I’m not in hearing distance! “As thrilling as this talk of my sass is, aren’t we here for a different reason?”

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