Page 26 of Cruel Lies

"Are you offering?"

She yelped a little as I spun her around, transferring her wrists to one hand as I pulled out a knife and pressed it against her throat. All the fight left her at that, and she finally settled down enough for me to think.

I hadn’t planned on killing her in the parking lot. As much as I wanted to complete this contract and move on to the next one, there was some unfinished business here. And something in me said to keep her alive.

She’d be worth more to us alive, after all.

I just hoped nobody would ask me to rationalize that thought process.

"You’re coming with me, sweet cheeks," I informed her, dragging her backward toward the Torino. "Now here’s the deal. You’re gonna get in the backseat and stay still. That way, you can’t open any doors and make a run for it while we’re going ninety on the freeway. And when we get where we’re going, you best not move an inch away from me if you value your life." I thought about the Scot Lilly killed a few years back for his absolutely unhinged depravity on an innocent the Rebels had brought in to fuck. "There are worse monsters in the Guild than me, believe it or not."

I didn’t care if she understood or not; the important part was that she listened.

She fought me as I shoved her into the back of the car, so I stripped the duffel bag from her shoulder and pointedly kept an eye on her as I threw it in the trunk. If she had a weapon in it, I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to pull one on me from behind.

I might find that hot in another setting, but I didn’t wanna deal with Rowan if I wrecked the Torino.

"Okay, pretty girl, you sit tight in the back there and be a good little slut, okay? And when we get to the asylum, I’m sure one of the boys will make you feel right at home."

She met my eyes in the rearview mirror as I pulled out of the parking lot and into night traffic, however little of it there was. "The asylum?"

"So you’ve heard of us."

She blanched, her eyes cast away suddenly. "It’s got a reputation in town."

"You ever hear talk of any of the crews in there?" I almost thirsted for the knowledge that we’d become famous—or rather, infamous, even among the civvies.

She shook her head no, frowning at the seat cushion. "Nope. Just that the asylum houses murderers and criminals of the highest order. That half of them are sick fucks who will do unspeakable things for a dollar."

I had to admit, finding out she didn’t know about us was a little bit of a letdown. Then again, it wasn’t like I was leaving witnesses to tell everyone what we did to our victims.

Evidence was the last thing I wanted out there in the world to incriminate us.

She stayed behaved for the first half of our ride, silent and still in the seat behind me. I half expected her to rage, slam her fists in the back of my seat, or throw a tantrum.

Of course, the calm was short-lived the minute we got into the middle of town.

With the lights and more cars around her, she must have thought someone would help her if she could grab their attention. Unfortunately for her, even if our names weren’t well-known across town by ordinary people, the Torino looked ominous enough to ward off the most helpful of good samaritans.

Still didn’t stop her from trying.

As I swerved between two trucks, the bitch slammed her feet into the back of my chair, temporarily distracting me as she leaned across the car and slapped her hands against the window, trying desperately to signal someone to her aid. She didn’t know that truckers were the last people willing to help you in this town.

Her eyes locked with one of the men in the truck to my right, and she screamed so loud I felt like my head might fucking explode. I was starting to debate the intelligence of putting her in the car with me instead of in the damn trunk. She was hands-down the most annoying woman I’d met in a long time, and though the urge to cut her up just to shut her up, or give her a reason to scream like that, lurked in the back of my mind, it wasn’t the pressing need it usually was.

Harper Daniels made me soft. Made me a man I didn’t like to be. I had a reputation to hold up, after all.

My fist found purchase in the back of her hair, and I growled in frustration as I yanked her up and over the center console and into the front seat with me, all while I somehow managed to keep the Torino straight on the fucking highway doing ninety.

She came over the seat somewhat unwillingly, and I refused to release her hair even when she took her seat and turned slightly toward me to show she’d given up the fight. It felt good to have this power over her, showed her who was boss.

"Could you let my hair go before you pull it all out?" shepleaded, her eyes watering from the sting. "You’re killing me here."

"You play that shit after causing trouble, and expect me to what, just be nice?" My barking laughter filled the cab as I stared her down, feeling the dried blood on my face crack with the movement. "You’re funny, bitch."

I watched something in her face change then, like a mask falling into place over her regular features. Her whole expression shifted to a blank stare, and she closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath like one of those yoga meditation things Angel used to do to calm himself.

I didn’t like the implications.

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