Page 50 of The Liar's Reckoning

Or have someplace private to bring someone. Avery, I guess. But Avery loves my parents’ place. I never felt the need to bring her someplace private, so the apartment remains a secret.

The classy façade of The Chelsea Hotel flashes by, which means we’re close. I glance at Silas and catch his eye while he does the same.

I don’t know what he sees on my face, but whatever it is, it causes him to say, “I’ll explain once we’re inside.”

I want to ask explain what? But he’s sick of questions. He’s the most unpredictable person I’ve ever met. I have no idea what to expect—what our dynamic is, or if we even have one.

All I know is I want him. Nothing about that has changed, even if he just stumbled out of bed with his ex.

The cab pulls to a stop. I swipe my card to pay for the ride, add a tip, and duck my head getting out. I don’t look up until we’re inside the building. The amount of surveillance cameras in the city is staggering, and the last thing I need is for someone to spot me here and snap a photo of me going inside with Silas. I have no way of knowing how he organizes his life—whether he’s well known around town, or how easy he would be to dig up dirt on—I expect easy.

“I’m on the third floor, assuming you don’t mind the stairs.”

“I think I can handle it,” he says, still grumbling like he’d rather be anywhere else. “No doorman?”

We had to come through two sets of locked doors to reach the stairwell. I’m not sure what purpose a doorman would serve. The mailboxes are all easily accessible in the lobby. “No.”

“How do you get deliveries?”

“Do you have a doorman where you live?”

“No, but…stuff just shows up at the door.”

“I’ve never had a delivery here,” I say flatly, my nerves getting the better of me.

“What’s the story with this place? You said Avery doesn’t know about it?”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“It’s nice.”

“She had her heart set on the Upper East Side.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Silas says, one step behind me.

“You prefer it up there, too?”

“Cleaner, less crowded. What’s not to like?”

“It’s fine, I guess,” I say.

Silas leaves that comment alone, and soon we’re at my door. Iunlock it and let him in. Light floods the east facing apartment. Honeyed hardwoods gleam like someone just polished them, but the truth is they’re just new, and no one lives here. The tan, leather sectional looks soft and glowy on the cream rug. Only the darkened television set shows off a fine layer of dust.

“Jesus, this is nice,” he says, staring at the wall of windows. They’re multi-paned with a cathedral shape, rounded at the top and flat on the bottom. Running a hand along the black granite island as he walks toward them, he adds, “You could grow a hundred plants here.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I murmur, not loud enough for the sound to carry. I drop my keys, phone, and wallet on the counter before leaning against it to watch him. The light catches all the contours of him in his tight clothes, and I breathe through a sudden, nauseating wave of attraction.

If I could pray these feelings away, I would. I neither need nor want this. I want what Avery’s offering. Legitimacy. Acceptance. A kernel of truth born from a lie. Instead, I get a choice—and with a temptation like Silas, I hardly stand a chance.

Do I have to go through with this? No.

But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. As bad as he is at it, he may only want to talk, and if history is any measure, the things he says do more to destroy me than entice me.

His shoulders move with a deep inhalation, and he turns to face me.

17

SILAS

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