Page 18 of Pucking Fake

"It's been a while. Say it again."

Lauren's soft laugh echoes down the line. "Best brother ever."

"Uh, fuck yeah, I am. Does Lachlan need anything?"

"Maybe a bite guard," she grumbles. "Those baby teeth are no joke, Logan. He's biting everything."

"So…just like you then."

She gasps. "I did not bite."

"Please. I still have scars from where you bit the shit out of me when you were a baby."

"Whatever. Lies."

I chuckle, my eyes narrowing on the motherfucker standing near my truck. What the fuck is Charles Montaque doing snooping around my shit? He's a world class prick. He calls himself an investigative sports journalist, but it's bullshit. He's a gossip with a pen. "I've gotta go. I'll see you at the house."

"Okay. See you soon."

I disconnect, shoving my phone into my pocket as I saunter toward Montaque, scowling. "Is there a reason you're all up in my business today, Montaque?"

"Logan." He flashes me a smile, stepping forward to meet me. "It's good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same about you." I'm not playing nice with this motherfucker. I don't like him, and I won't pretend I do. "What do you want?"

"Do you have a minute to talk?"

"To you? Never." I pop the locks on the truck before tossing my bag inside. "I've got places to be and shit to do."

"I heard a rumor I'd like to discuss with you. Let's set up a meeting."

"Too fucking bad," I grunt, sliding into the driver's side of the truck. "I don't discuss rumors with dicks." I glance at him in contempt. "Write that in whatever bullshit hit piece you're writing, Montaque. You aren't getting your meeting."

I slam the door in his face, irritated as hell. Why the fuck is he harassing me about some rumor instead of taking it to Alice? He knows I'm not going to talk to him. I never talk to him.

"It's about your sister!" he shouts.

Fucking hell.

My heart skips a beat before pounding against my ribcage. How the fuck does he know about Lauren? Who talked to him? I'm not about to ask him to find out. Anything I say, he'll take as confirmation.

I'm not stupid enough to play that game. So I do the only thing I can do instead. I completely ignore him and drive away.

As soon as I'm out of the parking lot, I call Alice.

"We have a problem," I growl as soon as she answers, my hands tight around the steering wheel.

"Why do we always have problems when I've just poured myself a glass of wine?" she complains. "Why can't we ever have eight o'clock on Monday problems?"

"Charles Montaque was just in the fucking parking lot, trying to set up a meeting with me to talk about my sister."

Alice goes completely silent.

"How the fuck did he find out about her, Alice?" I growl, my temples throbbing.

"I don't know," she says quietly. "It's not like people don't know she exists, Logan. They just usually don't go prying into her life. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. I didn't say a word about her."

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