Page 30 of Cruel Lies

Angel took my arm and sat me on the couch like he was a mother hen looking after a disabled chicklet, and I rolled my eyes at him, letting the fucker do what he needed to feel happy. Nash huffed annoyingly at me but did as he was told, letting the towel drop at the edge of his door to prove apoint.

Harper’s eyes widened at the sight, but she quickly looked away, her lip curling at his bad behavior.

I couldn’t hide my chuckle at her reaction.

"I’m not a fucking prude, but is he always like this?" She gestured wildly at the closed door where he’d disappeared. "Fuck me, I didn’t think Nash could regress any further into immaturity than when he was a teenager, but somehow, he’s managed it."

Even Angel had to laugh at that one despite himself. I could see his anger at the unfiltered reaction as he spun and put his back to us, heading to the sink to finish whatever he’d been in the middle of when he was interrupted by our unannounced guest.

I turned in her direction and crooked a finger, hoping I could keep ahold of my emotions long enough to deal with her presence unbiasedly.

"Sit, Harper. I suspect you have questions."

She followed the orders well—too well. I didn’t see a hint of the old Harper in that gaze; it was like she’d shut down and withdrawn in on herself to avoid dealing with what was clearly a shock to her system. I recognized the signs, because it was how my mother had looked a lot in the past, before my father beat her.

"Harper?"

She turned her gaze to me, agonizingly slow, and in it hid all the emotions I knew she fought valiantly to hide from me. From us.

Confusion. Fear. Panic. Rage. Sadness. All emotions I was well accustomed to myself.

Emotions I never wanted to see on her face when she looked at me.

"Angel, I think she’s in shock." I panicked a little then. She had always been so strong as a girl, and later, as a teen. When she hit twenty, she was unshakeable. Fearless. A fucking warriorgoddess who couldn’t be told a fucking thing, she was so confident in herself.

Was this what we’d done to her?

Fuck me, just when I thought I couldn’t hate myself any more.

"Hey there, Harper, snap out of it," I pleaded, waving a hand in front of her face, hoping for a reaction. When none was forthcoming, I started to panic right alongside her. I turned to Angel for help, feeling the control slip through my fingers again. "Fuck me, I’m trained in this shit, but it’s all slipping away from me."

I couldn’t make my brain recall the long-forgotten first aid and triage skills I’d learned as a first responder. It’d been so long since I’d actively tried to save someone from shock, and my mind was still muddled by whatever St. Clair had given me. I was beginning to suspect I’d been drugged, but I had no proof.

I felt weak, powerless, like a fucking boy again, standing there unable to do more than watch his mother fall apart at Father’s feet as he beat the life out of her.

The thought made me nauseous.

"Breathe, fucker," Angel demanded, slapping me soundly across the cheek. "You’re not so drunk you can’t remember your training. Nowthink.What did you do for Nash when he used to go catatonic after the—after she—you know," he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable bringing it up.

"Cold showers," I recalled, my brain fog lifting just enough for me to snap out of it. "Cold showers and a quiet room."

"Calm music. Something sugary to boost his blood sugar. Sometimes, a slap to the face, but that’s not exactly professional, now, is it?"

Angel smirked, and I realized he was trying to help in his own way. His nose might’ve scrunched up in her direction, even now, but he couldn’t help but help. It was in his nature, and I’d never been so glad for his instinct to care for others. Even if he might not be so happyabout it.

"I’ve got her," I muttered, lifting Harper off the couch like she weighed nothing. "You coming?"

"Nope," he groused, shooting a glare at the floor. "I’ve got a rug to scrub and a couch to dry off." His gaze cut to her still form in my arms, and he sighed. "Just . . . keep your distance, okay? Don’t forget she’s our target, not our pet."

Instinctively, unconsciously, I clutched her tighter to me. "I know."

"All I’m saying is, don’t get attached, Ro."

"It won’t happen," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "Not this time."

I couldn’t afford to let myself fall for this girl again. I had a job to do now. A whole lifestyle to think about. And not just for me, but for my brothers too. They were just as entangled in this shitshow as I was.

As I stepped into the shower of my personal bathroom, I let the cold water rushing over me shatter this little thread of rebellion inside me, the one that told me toclutch her tighter,the side of me that wanted nothing more than to shelter her from the rest of the world. The part of me that screamedto hell with the contract.The side of my mind that refused to believe this second chance with her was a fluke.

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