Page 19 of Cruel Lies

She’d called him on it on that fucking bridge as he held a knife to her throat. Even as he drew blood and threw her to what we all assumed was her death, he still looked at her like she hung the fucking moon and stars in his night sky.

I think a tiny part of all of us died with her on that bridge. We buried our innocence there when we thought we’d killed her.

The things we’d all given up in that moment?—

I could have lived a different life.

Instead, I thought my prospects were gone. I felt I had no choice but to become something I had never wanted to be. So I embraced the new me, the killer, the complicit murderer, and I embarked on a new life with my brothers.

And here we were, the whole life we’d built falling down on us because of the biggest lie we’d ever been told.

And it was all Rowan’s fault.

The fucker was no doubt in his room now, pacing like he didn’t just ruin not only our latest job, but our whole lives. Ro would be paying for years to come for his mistake, though. I didn’t need to pay him any more mind.

Instead, I flipped open my phone and dialed Nash, curious why he hadn’t shown up yet.

When he answered on the second ring, his voice was rough, like he’d been sleeping, or crying. But Nash didn’t cry. He was one of the toughest motherfuckers I’d ever met.

"What, Angel?"

I forgot how to speak, so unsure of what I was going to say. "Um."

Real eloquent, you idiot.

His patience was worn thin. I could hear it in the tone of his voice on the other line. "Hello, Angel, what can I do for you?"

"Where are you?" I asked, moving to flop across my bed as I toyed with a strand of my hair, twisting it around one finger. "You get lost?"

I could hear his grumbling in the background. "Something like that."

Whatwasn’the telling me? "Well, maybe getun-lostand hurry back. We still have to figure things out."

"I’ve already figured them out," he huffed, the phone going quiet for a minute. "Fuck, they’re locked."

"Locked? What’s locked?" He was up to something, and I wanted to know what.

"Windows," he muttered, clearly forgetting he was on the phone. "Not like a window lock this simple will keep me out, though."

I heard him flick a latch and whisper a shoutedhurrah,then a dullthunkas he landed inside somewhere.

No, couldn’t be. Could it?

Nash was the least sentimental of us all, so there was no way he was where I suspected he had gone. But I had to know. Stranger things had already happened tonight. What was one more surprise?

"You’re at her house, aren’t you, Nash?"

He refused to answer and confirmed my suspicions.

"Of all the people to end up stalking her, ofcourseit would be you. But why?"

I needed to know if he was compromised. We still had a job to do that would involve ending her life. None of us could afford to get involved with her?—

"She’s a target, Nash," I snapped, listening to the sound of his breathing and nothing else. "We’ve got to take her out."

"Don’t act like you aren’t conflicted," Nash snapped, his voice low. "I don’t want to talk about it. I just came here to make sure she didn’t get away."

Sure, and I’m an alpaca."Whatever you say, Nash."

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