Page 31 of The Lair

I force a smile and fidget with my dart. “All right.”

Maybe I shouldn’t agree to something I don’t want to do, but the knowledge that I can always lie about it calms me and makes me nauseous all at once.

Why do I have to keep hiding? I reached my destination. Maine is where I wanted to be. Wasn’t I going to start anew?

I promised.

As I position myself in front of the dartboard, I realize it’s too late for that. Every person I’ve met in Bannport who I care about—Charlie, Jude, Sandra, Travis—knows a version of Allie that isn’t real. Not fully. If I told them the truth, they would never see me in the same light. They would never forgive me, would never trust me again. I can’t back down now.

Anxiety gets the best of me, and my dart lands on the thirteen double ring. Not bad, but not my best. When I turn to Travis, his face has no traces of smugness anymore.

I give him a weak smile. “Your turn.”

Travis takes my spot in front of the dartboard and throws his dart toward the wall.

He turns to me. “Oops.”

Oops—

What the hell is he doing?

“You did that on purpose.” I cross my arms, pinning him down with a glare that isn’t at all intimidating. “It doesn’t count. Do it again.”

“Okay.”

Another dart hits the wall.

“Travis,” I warn.

“Allie.” He sounds bored.

This man. “Fine. If this is how you want to play, let’s play.”

I’m not mad at him, only confused. Why would he miss on purpose, like he wasn’t acting all cocky a minute ago?

Whatever. If he wants to be childish about this, I’m game. My next dart hits a neon sign with the words “Drink your sorrows away” on the wall. His lands straight on the sticky floor.

A minute later, all our darts are scattered everywherebutthe board.

“That was a shit game,” I tell him, although I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Who knew throwing darts at the wall with my boss would help me get my mind off things?

He only shrugs those wide shoulders and gestures at the board with his bearded chin. “Looks like you won.”

“What?”

“I hit the bullseye, but you scored more points overall,” he clarifies. He swallows the distance between us, those molten eyes landing on my wrist. On the bracelet around it. “Green is my favorite color.”

Green. “Like your eyes.”

I realize my mistake a second too late. There’s no use in hoping he didn’t hear me because the look he’s giving me tells me all three words were loud and clear. Not once in fourteen months have I seen his eyes look like this—dark, intense, like they’re trying to pierce my flesh.

I overstepped. It was a weird thing to say, and I?—

“You can use white too,” he says, his voice sounding a lot throatier than before. Or maybe it’s just my deranged head. “So it matches yours.”

My tongue feels like sandpaper, and I’m not sure even the shortest of words could come out if I tried.

A ridiculous thought pops into my head—did he lose on purpose so I would make him a bracelet?

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