Page 3 of Filthy Liar

Dante was quiet for a second before rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, the emotionless expression gone as he gave me a sheepish smile. “Uh, sorry about that.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” I said flatly, giving Ander a dirty look to let him know I was also talking to him.

“I’ll call Reid to come and get us,” Zavier mumbled as he pulled his phone out.

“We can take you guys back to the house,” Dante replied as if he hadn’t been threatening to murder and rape me moments go.

“If you think I’m getting in a car with either of you, you’re mistaken,” I snapped, panic written all over Ander’s face.

“Can we at least talk about this? Please? I’ll answer any questions you want.”

“You want to talk about your fake dead sister? Your secret mafia prince life? What’s there to talk about?” I demanded, noticing Dante wince.

“My sister wasn’t some kind of made-up story,” Ander murmured, flicking his eyes away from me. “But yeah, I’ll tell you about her if you want.”

“I’m not getting in a car with you,” I repeated, and I was only going back to the house to pack my stuff, not that I told him that.

“But you’ll talk to me back at the house?” he asked, waiting for me to nod before fishing his keys from his pocket and holding them out to me. “You guys take the Supra. Dante can drop me off.”

I hesitated, giving him a look of confusion as I reached for them.

“I thought no one drove your car?”

“They don’t. You’re not just anyone though,” he said quietly. “Just please go back to the house so we can all talk.”

Part of me considered setting his damn car on fire and walking home, but I had no idea where we were, and as angry as I was, the thought of burning the one thing that Ander gave a fuck about felt a little too cruel.

Zavier took my hand and steered me towards the door to end the conversation, and I heard the distinct sound of someone getting punched as we left.

“Where are we?” I asked once we navigated the maze of hallways, Zavier’s hand tightening in mine.

“Abandoned slaughterhouse in Riverside. Do you want me to drive? You look like you’re going to pass out,” he observed, but I shook my head.

“I’ve got it. I just need?—”

“I know, you need some control. I get it. He really didn’t touch you?”

When I shrugged, he looked ready to turn around and go back inside, so I held his hand tighter. “Not that I know of. I’m sore, but anyone would be after what Reid and I did this morning.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“The mafia prick?”

“No, Reid,” he chuckled as we reached the Supra. He rested his arms on the roof as I circled the car to the driver’s side, his eyes on me as I unlocked it. “If you’re sore, was it an angry fuck? Kind of figured you’d have one with him eventually. You two have had insane sexual tension forever.”

My mouth kicked up into a smile, my lip burning from the movement as I opened the door. “More frantic than angry. It started as a fight though.”

“Most things between you and him always start with a fight,” he said dryly as he climbed into the passenger seat.

I started the car, a little scared to drive it since I could feel the power difference between this and any other car I’d driven. Even Rory’s car didn’t feel as powerful as this.

“You’re okay with Reid, right? I should’ve discussed it with you first, but it just kind of happened,” I said as I glanced over at him, removing the emergency brake.

“Reid and Logan were always going to come back to you. I promise, I’m fine with it.”

“Do you think Ander’s going to lie through his teeth to save face?” I asked, turning my attention to the road as I put the car in gear and eased off the clutch, scowling when I almost stalled it. “Is it broken?”

Zavier grinned. “Nah, the clutch is just different. This car’s made for speed, not crawling. Give it more gas. Once it’s moving, it’s fine.”

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