Page 52 of Crown of Lies

I end the call and toss the phone onto the couch as if it’s burning my hand. The leather cushions take the brunt of my frustration next, my knuckles bruising from the force of my blow.

Fucking bullshit. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to be untouchable. A force to be reckoned with. And now? Now we’re scrambling just to hold on to what’s left.

I shake my head, my jaw clenched. No. I won’t let this be our downfall. We’ll weather this storm, just like we’ve weathered all the others. I’ll make sure of it.

The sound of the front door interrupts my dark thoughts. I glance up to see Atlas and Quinn stepping inside, their eyes scanning the room until they land on me. There’s something different in how they’re acting. Something is off. I can see it in the way they move, the slight shift in their body language.

My stomach clenches as the realization hits me.They fucked. The thought claws at my insides, but I keep my expression neutral, my eyes giving nothing away.

“Hey,” Atlas greets me, his voice carefully neutral. “Everything okay? You seem…” He trails off as if searching for the right word.

“Frustrated,” Quinn supplies, perceptive as always. Maybe a little too perceptive for my liking—at least in this moment. “You seem frustrated.”

“Among other things,” I reply, my voice deceptively calm. “Care to fill me in on what you two were up to?”

I force my gaze away from Quinn, from the way her hair falls in loose, messy waves and her lips are swollen and pink. I ignore the scent of sex that clings to her, that wraps around me like a chokehold.

She steps forward, holding a small notepad, seemingly oblivious to the way I’m feeling. I know her better than that though. When she and Atlas came back from Eros that night, I picked up on the tension between them right away—she has to know that I’ve picked up on it again.

But she doesn’t say a word about it, and neither do I.

I don’t know what the fuck to say. Don’t know whether I’m pissed off or jealous or… something else.

“I went back to the bar,” she says, her voice steadier now. “The bartender recognized my dad’s photo. He used to be a regular there. Apparently, he was tight with a few members of a local crew.”

“Go on,” I say, forcing myself to focus. My eyes narrow as I take the notepad from her, and a list of names stares back at me as I scan the page. Possible connections. Possible leads.

“He gave me these names,” Quinn continues, her voice tight. “Said they might be a good place to start. That they could point us in the right direction.”

“And you trust this guy?” I ask, reading each of the names.

She shrugs. “As much as I can trust anyone right now. He didn’t have to help me. The fact that he recognized my dad and was willing to talk is something.”

I nod, folding the paper and slipping it into my pocket. “We’ll check these leads out tomorrow. I’ll go with you.”

Quinn hesitates for a split-second, her eyes darting between Atlas and me. Then she nods once, sharp and curt. “Yeah, okay. Goodnight.”

I watch her climb the stairs, my jaw clenching as the scent of sex teases my nostrils once more, lingering in the air behind her.

Atlas moves toward the stairs a beat later, but I lift a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Hold up.”

He turns back, a hint of defiance and maybe a little guilt etched on his face. We stand there for a moment, tension thick between us. He definitely knows I’m aware of what went down, even if I don’t know all the specifics.

Do Iwantto know the specifics?

Fucking hell. I let out a slow breath, trying to clear my thoughts.

“Is this gonna be a problem?” I ask, keeping my voice low as I gesture with my chin toward the stairs Quinn just walked up.

He meets my gaze, unflinching. “No. It’s not.”

“You sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you just complicated things. Big time.”

Atlas runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every abrupt move he makes. “Look, I was just… getting her out of my system.”

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head at his words. “That’s funny. I told myself the same damn lie when I fucked her in the basement.”

Something flickers in his eyes, but it isn’t surprise. Jealousy, maybe? Irritation that I’m calling him out for basically doing the same damn thing I did?

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