Page 62 of Cruel Lies

"Whatever he said to you, I’m sure he didn’t mean it."

Her scoff of disbelief almost hurt me, it was laced with so much pain. "Oh, I’m sure he did. And I don’t wanna talk about it."

"Okay," I said, settling back in as I turned the volume up a notch. "Man, this chocolate is great. I’m gonna have to replace the damn bar before he notices."

"Fuck Nash’s chocolate stash. I’ll eat the whole fucking thing. Serves him right."

My brow rose, but I didn’t look away from the screen as I popped another kernel of popcorn in my mouth. "Thought you didn’t wanna talk about it."

"Idon’t."

"Good."

"Great."

I sighed. "Harper."

"The—I—no."

The second brow climbed to join my first. "That was an interesting string of English."

"Do you want it in your native language?" She turned to me, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Or shoved up your ass?"

"You don’t speak Japanese, Harper," I pointed out with a smirk. "And you’d have a hell of a fight puttinganythingin my ass."

"That’s a matter of opinion, I think," she muttered. Turning back to the screen with another sigh. "Okay. Fine, you win, asshole." Her hand buried itself in the popcorn and came uploaded with the buttery stuff. "He told me he wanted to hurt me. And apparently, I’m fucked up for telling him I didn’t care." She huffed, on the edge of another sob, and I had to fight the instinct to reach for her. "But the sight of me makes him sick now, because he had to go and vomit after I told him, so . . ."

Oh, no.

"Nash has a problem with how he views himself now. He’s been . . . well, he isn’t the same Nash, not after she fucked him up like that."

Harper’s whole demeanor changed, like a bloodhound on the scent trail. "She?"

Great. Me and my big fucking mouth.Nash was going to kick my ass, but someone had to shove him out of his own fucking way. "His ex. She was a little fucked up, and uh, well, she’s the reason he’s got those scars on his face."

"What was her name?"

I shook my head. There were some things I could be forgiven for. Other things weren’t mine to reveal.

"That’s a question for Nash. It’s not my place to tell his stories. But just know, it’s not you that disgusts him. It’s himself, and the fucked up parts of him that he hates."

Her eyes softened, and she looked back at the screen, unshed tears for my brother lingering on her lashes.

"He just shoves those emotions outward so he can keep people from getting too close."

Her tears finally fell, though I pretended I didn’t notice, eyes still on the movie. "I know what that feels like."

I wasn’t sure what she meant, but now, I was driven and afraid to find out.

TWENTY-EIGHT

ROWAN

Sleepless nights were doingme no favors. Without sleep, I couldn’t concentrate. Without concentration, I couldn’t undermine whatever sick and twisted plot my father had planned for us by taking out the hit on Harper. And with the deadline looming, I didn’t have much time.

There was a short list of people who had cause to want her dead. It began and ended with my own father, who stood to gain the most.

If he knew Harper was still alive, though, why not just call us up and demand answers? It was his usual modus operandi—demand answers, demand results, or heads would roll when they didn’t deliver. He enjoyed the power he held over us. So, he had to want something if he was biding his time. Had to have something over our heads to dangle like that proverbial carrot.

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