Page 46 of Cruel Lies

The pieces felt right. They fit like a puzzle you’ve been staring at too long. And if he knew, that meant he’d asked for us to complete the hit to make a point. He wanted us to know he knew. And I’d bet dollars to doughnuts he wanted something from it. Either that, or this was his way of punishing us for not taking care of things seven years ago.

Harper argued with Nash earlier, insisting she be allowed to return to her normal life. She was independent and headstrong, just like she’d always been, but she wouldn’t be safe. Especially when Father discovered we were protecting her.

I didn’t want her out of my sight.

And she wanted to be as far from me as possible.

What a conundrum.

My head hung over the back of the couch as I listened to them pick up where they’d left off, Nash pretending to ignore her while she muttered under her breath, clearly directed at him and easily loud enough for him to hear, but in such a way she could pretend she wasn’t waiting for him to snap and give in.

"Not a prisoner, he says, but I’m not allowed to leave this fucking nuthouse filled with murderers. And somehow, that’s safer than going to work and living in my apartment." She tossed a chunk of butter in the skillet on the stove, the telltalehissof steam filling the room. "You ask me, I’d be safer out there on myown. Lasted just fine for seven years, butno,that’s notgood enough?—"

Angel plunked down next to me and swiped a piece of my chocolate bar. I’d been holding it in my hand, half unwrapped, without taking a single bite, for at least five minutes, so I didn’t bite his head off about it.

His eyes cut to mine, and he tossed his head in the direction of the kitchen. "They still at it?"

My head bobbed once, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginning of a headache forming. "Yeah. At this point, I’m about to call Vegas and place bets on who gives up first."

"She couldn’t have picked a worse opponent for arguing," he pointed out, chewing the chocolate instead of letting it melt on his tongue.Fucking waste. It was expensive chocolate."Nash is a pro."

"I can hear you, fucker," the man in question grumbled from his perch on the kitchen counter. "And you’re right. You’d better put that money on me, 'cause you know I don’t give up."

"Who said we were arguing?" Harper muttered, her back still to Nash. "Can’t a girl talk to herself while she cooks?"

Angel ducked his head, but not before I caught the slow-spreading smile on his lips that he quickly schooled into a scowl.

Harper had started getting under his skin, too. And I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d do that to all of us. Would she break apart what we’d become and force us to be something we weren’t? Were we really who we thought we were, for that matter, if she could change us so easily with nothing more than her mere presence?

Or were we just hiding from ourselves?

"You can mutter over there until you’re blue in the face," Nash taunted, leaning back until he was stretched out across the island counter like a dead fish, "it doesn’t change the fact that I know you’re talking to me, and I don’t give a fuck."

"That’s your favorite word, isn’t it?" Harper spun around, grease flying from the spatula she held. I watched with interest out of the corner of my eye as she shoved it in his direction threateningly. "Fuck. That’s all I ever hear from you, Nash.Fuckthis,fuckthat,motherfuck fucking fuck fuck fuck."She jabbed him with the spatula tip right in the fucking gut as he lay there taking it. "Don’t you know anything else? Maybe you’ve just gotten lazy. The old Nash had such a vast vocabulary. Now, you’re like a little kid."

He propped himself up on one arm, watching her turn to the food again. I had to swallow a laugh when he grinned like a fucking loon and stuck his tongue out at her back. It was something the old him would have done, back when he still held all that cocky confidence of a man who was used to drowning in pussy with a strum of his guitar and a flip of his curls. "I can promise you, there’s nothinglittleabout me, ya brat." His hand moved to his crotch, which he grabbed for emphasis. "But you already know that. You’ve seen it before."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered again, refusing to indulge him. "I’ve seen bigger."

His eyes narrowed, and I prepared to pull him off of her if things got heated. Angel had abandoned all attempts to look like he didn’t care and now also hung over the back of the couch, watching the two of them.

Nash threw his hand over his heart. "You wound me, woman."

Harper grinned over her shoulder at him, and shot Angel and I a salacious wink."On your brother."

Ah, hell.

Nash’s eyes couldn’t have popped out of his head any further if you put his skull in a vice grip. "Which one?"

"A lady never kisses and tells, Nashville," she teased, and for a split second, I struggled to understand why she’d called him that. It was easy to forget his full name was Nashville when he’dspent his whole life shortening it. "I’ll take the secret to the grave."

Nash rolled his eyes and leaned back over the counter until he was looking at us upside-down. "Okay, assholes, drop 'em. I don’t believe her."

The childish way he said it dragged a bubble of laughter from my throat, and I buried my face in my hands to hide it. "You’re a fucking fruitcake, man. I’m not showing you my dick."

"Incest was never my thing,Nashville,"Angel taunted him dryly. "Sorry to disappoint."

He was off the counter in a heartbeat, on his feet and crossing the floor like a panther on crack. "You think you’re funny, don’t you, asshole? I could choke the life outta you like I did the other day, and this time, Harper won’t fucking stop me."

---