Page 57 of Beautiful Liar

“I want to help you not be confused.” The tile skimmed his knuckles, back and forth back and forth. “The answers are here. All you have to do is look.”

Angry, I went to splash water on my face but Luca yanked me back before I could. I hadn’t even heard him move. He stood so close I expected him to stab me and leave me bleeding out in one of the stalls. Instead, he smeared my tears with the tipsof his fingers, his eyes moving across my face. “Paint your face. Don’t let anyone see.”

For a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. His eyes an array of different shades of browns and greens. I couldn’t pinpoint a color. He blinked a few times, turned, and started to leave.

I turned back to the mirror, lifted my eyes to my reflection.

Don’t let anyone see me broken.

“Luca,” I whispered just as his hand covered the doorknob. A tear slipped out of my eye as he turned to look at me. “I can’t do this. I can’t pretend.”

Without a word, he walked out.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tomás

Luca left without any sort of advice for me.

Wear a mask. Hide who I was. That wasn’t going to work. I couldn’t just act like nothing between Enzo and me happened. As if Luca wasn’t there to kill me. I couldn’t wear a mask.

I walked out of the bathroom and straight into Wren.

“Whoa,” he said, saving his drink from spilling on him. “Are you leaving?”

“I need to get out of here.”

Before I could move past him, he grabbed my arm. For a moment, I thought he was going to drag me kicking and screaming to our assigned table. Wren was Alessandro’s son. His son. The last person I wanted to see me this way. Not that I believed Wren, like Luca, was here to kill me, but that I felt a mark of shame every time I looked at him. As if what Enzo did to me were my fault. As if Enzo being a deadbeat father had been my fault too. Maybe Kieran was right and I needed to play the martyr. Everythingfeltlike my damn fault.

“Follow me.”

Fuck. I needed out of my head. That may have been the reason I followed Wren back to the kitchen.

“Hey, Tate, you got another one?”

A tall, thin kid with floppy ears and large eyes lifted his head. I swear to God, he reminded me of a scared doe staring at headlights. “For him, fuck yeah.”

Wren smirked at me. “He has the good stuff. Not Jack’s. Trust me.” I did trust Wren. A few months ago, he’d been jumped by an assassin looking for me. They’d taken Henry as a bargaining chip and Wren had felt responsible. Then I had crashed his car, which he hadn’t hated me for. And with River getting married, Wren was allowed to be a hot mess. And hotmesses did well together, sharing weed.

Tate led us down to a cellar and near a case of cigars. He smiled, showing a row of straight white teeth. “Our secret, Tom,”

“It’s Tomás, and yeah.”

He pulled out jars of the stuff. I watched as he casually rolled a few as he talked. “It’s about the size of the pieces. The flavor hits you in the beginning, but the strongest is the last bit.” He handed me three. “Test it. Let me know what you think. I could use a handler if you’re interested.”

“Did you sell to Jack?”

He made a face I took as hell, no. “Jack didn’t respect the natural process.” I took the handed joints.

“Let me sample the goods and I’ll let you know.”

He nodded. “I like you, Tom,” he said. “Stay away from echo and don’t get killed out there tomorrow, but this might help.” He handed me a bag with a few more. “You can pay me when you get back.”

Fuck it. I’d probably come back in a body bag. I took it.

Wren showed me the rear entrance and gave me a salute. “Can you…” I didn’t need to elaborate. Wren knew I needed the out.

“Yup. I’ll tell them you got the runs.” He winked. I laughed.

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