Page 102 of Cruel Lies

"Siblings, huh?" He looked me up and down, quirking a brow. "Y’all don’t look anything alike."

"We’re not related, you moron. Our parents married each other when we were kids." I had to stop and shake off the stupid he was layering on me. Surely this wasn’t all the drugs’ fault? "Are you naturally this dumb, or are you just high?"

He had the nerve to look offended at that. "I’m not stupid. I’m not high, either."

I quirked a brow to match his earlier look of indignation. "You’re a bad liar."

"Okay, fine, I had a little coke, man, but like, I’m still operational. And I’m allowed to indulge when I’m home alone."

"So, from the looks of things, you’re being paid well, I assume?"

His eyes narrowed, and I realized I was about to be shut out. "None of your damn business, buddy. I think it’s time for you to go."

"One more question, and then you’ll never see me again."

His arms covered his chest, but he nodded. "Shoot."

"The man who calls himself the boss. Does he happen to have short locs and dark skin? Wear a faded leather jacket with studs?"

It was almost comical how quickly his face changed to a look of sheer surprise. "How the fuck did you know that?"

I rose slowly, content with the realization that I wasn’t the only one out here worried about her now that we weren’t around to keep her safe from herself.

"He’s my brother."

FORTY-THREE

ROWAN

I flipped openmy phone for the eight hundredth time that night, waitingfor the update from Sport that hadn’t come yet.

He always updated me at the same time every day.Always.For him to go dark was concerning.

I called Angel first, and when the phone rang through to voicemail, I tried Nash, who hit the fuck you button so fast I almost mistook it for a dead battery.

Almost.

I stared at the screen, wondering why the fuck both of them were pointedly ignoring my calls. Had I done something to piss them off? Were they fighting or something? Maybe I was overreacting, seeing things where there were none.

I was off my game. I hadn’t been as detail-oriented lately as I usually was, and it was affecting my work. With Lilly still withholding judgment on the whole Harper/failed contract fiasco and Harper on a night shift at the shop, I had too much on my plate, yet not enough to keep me distracted.

We’d all been a little off-kilter since she left.

Harper took the best parts of us with her and left a raw, gaping wound in each of our souls that ached around the edges like a phantom limb. The house felt empty without her here. The whole day felt like a waste when I woke up alone, ate alone, went to bed alone. I ached to hold her in my arms again, but she’d made her position on things clear when she left without even a word, or a damn goodbye.

I had to respect that.

I didn’t have tolikeit, but I promised her I’d respect her decision to return to her old life when all this blew over.

I sent proof of life for her to the attorney in charge of her mother’s legacy and asked him to reach out to her with options. She didn’t want that money. I knew that, he knew that, her mother knew that. But I knew Harper, and she’d find a way to put that blood money togood use.

She’d come a long way from her days as a spoiled socialite bitch. She stood confidently on her own two feet now, a self-made woman with a new identity, one she preferred over her own, it seemed.

I couldn’t blame her for that. Anonymity had its perks, as I well knew.

My phone rang suddenly, and I didn’t even glance at the screen before I answered it. "Blackwood speaking."

"Ah, Boss, I have some bad news."

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