Page 55 of Cruel Lies

She looked forward and turned on the blinkers as it began torain, both hands on the wheel as the beastly tires on the car ate the pavement up and spun out, kicking the ass end around to the side from the excessive horsepower.

Rowan’s hands clutched the oh-shit handle and center console, respectively, and I chuckled as his eyes found the dash display, watching it and the road simultaneously.

This would be a torturous ride for more than one of us.

We gotto the bridge in one piece, but Harper had stopped at the end of it, wipers flashing across the windshield in a mad dash to remove all the water from the now-torrential downpour to allow for some visibility. Her head didn’t move; she just stared emptily out at the old bridge, which had been shut down years ago because of the holes in the sidewalk concrete. In some spots, you could see straight down into the water. Nowadays, even if a body didn’t draw the attention of the crocs, the idea that someone had fallen from the bridge by accident was a lot more plausible.

And yeah, they had marks, but I mean, seriously, a lot of exposed rebar everywhere; who’s to say they didn’t slip and stab themselves on the metal?

Harper’s throat worked as she gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled and shaking, but I might’ve been imagining things. Maybe I wanted her to feel something shitty, just like I did.

Maybe I wanted her to hurt a little because of how she affected me.

Her fear of the bridge was just icing on the cake.

"I’ll get out and move the road sign," Rowan muttered, slipping from the Torino with a frown. "Just drive on through until you come to the second sign and put it in park."

I chuckled as I realized she wouldn’t be able to do it.

And I hated myself for it.

"What’s so funny?" Angel muttered in confusion, his head cocked to the side quizzically.

I gestured at Harper, who was visibly shaken. "She can’t drive this car across the bridge. She can’t even stand the sight of it."

Sure enough, she didn’t even seem to register my words. She was singularly focused on the road before her, the pathway to her own death and dumping seven years ago.

It was his turn now to look toward the rearview mirror, trying to meet her gaze, but she wasn’t paying either of us a lick of attention. When Rowan opened the door to ask what was going on, he gestured wordlessly in her direction as his brows hiked up to his hairline.

"She’s not with it, man. This was a bad idea."

"Harper?" Rowan called to her, but she didn’t show an inkling of attention. She was lost in the hidden corner of her memory that paralyzed her with fear. Immobilized her. "Harper, why don’t you give the wheel to me?"

Rowan reached across the car and put his hand on her shoulder, and the touch might’ve been electric, for all that she jerked like a bolt of lightning went through her. Her hands shook, and she stepped on the gas, careening across the bridge like a woman possessed.

I saw my life flash before my eyes, and the feeling was euphoric. I deserved nothing less, really. Death by the hands of the woman we’d killed once and were hired to kill a second time. A more perfect, ironic end, I couldn’t have paid someone in showbiz to write.

Come on, then, Grim Reaper. I’m ready for your skeleton ass.

I closed my eyes and prepared to plunge off the side of the bridge in a mockery of the way we’d killed her seven years ago.

Coming full circle.

Ah, Karma, you're quite the bitch.

TWENTY-SIX

HARPER

"Fuck,man, I said I was sorry!" I stormed across the fucking parking garage of the asylum, hands thrown in the air, rolling my eyes. "What more do you want from me?" I met Angel’s steely, condemning glare with a confident one of my own. "Should I drop to my knees and suck your dick to make it better, Angel? Would that help soothe your bruised ego?"

Nash was still doubled over with laughter, Rowan a silent stone gargoyle at the top of the church roof, but Angel wasseething.

So what if I’d scared them a little bit? I managed to save the fishtail and keep us from going over the edge of the bridge. Wasn’t that the important part?

So one of the tires kissed the edge of the bridge. It wasn’t like it’d been dangling in the air.

His reaction was totally uncalled for.

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