Page 152 of Under the Lies

I didn’t hear him come up.

I turn around, my fist closed tight around the face. He raises a brow when he sees I’m holding something.

“What do you have there?” he asks like he already knows.

Slowly, I open my fist, the object shaking in my palm. “What is this?”

Noah doesn’t answer and his silence is almost worse.

“What is this, Noah? Why do you have my granddad’s watch?”

Still, he remains silent.

“Answer me!” I scream, my voice cracking at the end.

“He gave it to me.”

Everything stops. My breathing. The watch. The snow outside. It’s silence save for the static in my head.

His words don’t compute. Granddad wouldn’t give it to Noah. He’d give it to me or Harlow. Or my dad. His family.

Not a friend of Harlow’s. Definitely not a friend.

It doesn’t make sense.

“Did you steal it?” Anger is behind my words.

Noah pursed his lips as he locks his jaw. “Want to know the story or are you just going to throw accusations my way?”

He thinks he’s allowed to have attitude right now? I don’t think so.

“I’m going to act however I want until I know why you have my granddad’s watch!” My voice gets louder with every word until I’m yelling.

“I need you to think long and hard about this, Sayer. If you want to know, it’s going to change everything.”

“Stop. Just stop trying to scare me, Noah. I don’t care what you think it’s going to do to me. This is my grandfather’s!” I shake my fist between us. The chain rattles. “I deserve to know.”

His jaw ticks. “Fine. Come downstairs.”

I shake my head. “No, tell me now.”

“Sayer,” he growls like it’s going to intimidate me. Too bad for him I’m far past being intimidated.

“Tell me, Noah.”

He walks over to me, moving to touch my cheek but I jerk away. His eyes flare.

“Get downstairs, Sayer.”

“Why? Why can’t you tell me up here?”

Instead of answering, Noah shakes his head and before I can demand answers, I’m being lifted into the air, thrown over his shoulder.

The watch falls from my hands.

He walks out of the office and down the stairs without paying mind to any of my protesting. I try to kick him, but his arms are locked so tight around my legs I’m immobilized.

He drops me down on the couch and I’m nothing short of fuming.

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