Page 60 of Conflicted Lies

Ford sits beside her, his arm around the back of her chair as he sucks on a lollipop and scrolls through his phone. He ignores the shot, like always.

For once, Hawke doesn’t have a harem with him. He’s just joined Dutton on the dance floor, and it looks like he’s giving him shit for being stiff as a board and looking no better than security. But there’s no fucking way he’s letting anyone come near his new wife. Everyone walks a wide circle around them like there’s an invisible wall around them.

Billie, Jewel, and I clink our shot glasses together and throw back the alcohol. It burns my throat, and I suck on the lime afterward, feeling buzzed and refreshed.

This week has been a difficult one for me. International travel, stress levels spiking, and my mind drifting to a particular asshole who I’m trying my best to forget. I’ve also started organizing a plan of attack that Hawke came up with. One that I can manage on my own without his or Ford’s help.

But tonight, I want to get fucked up. I’m twenty-two and shouldn’t have a care in the world. So, I decided to use this as an excuse to celebrate dropping out of college. Everyone seemed confused by it, but since I don’t host many celebrations, they all made time.

“Come on.” I grab Billie’s and Jewel’s hands and drag them into the sea of people on the dance floor. I’m not one to usually enjoy dancing, but tonight, I just don’t want to be myself. I want to move in ways that I haven’t before. I let Ivy dress me in leather pants and a leather crop top. My hair is down and curled, and I’ve replaced my glasses with purple-tinted contacts.

I don’t give a fuck tonight.

Ivy scoops me up from behind, her hands on me as she accentuates my curves, and we dance. I close my eyes, awkwardly embracing the beat that I’m always certain my hips sway to a second too slowly. But I don’t care. I’m sick of caring. I just want to feel alive again.

“Damn, little red, you’re really letting yourself go tonight,” Hawke notes approvingly. And within the same breath, he literally snarls at a guy who dares glance in our direction.

“Oh, come on, Hawke,” Ivy teases. “Stop treating us like children. We can look after ourselves.” She raises her hands in the air and dances like a sexual goddess. I’ve always admired this part of Ivy. How she freely lives in a way that appears she’s tapped into a flow that no one else can see.

“It’s not you I’m worried about. I wonder if Alek would be your father’s best friend if he knew what a bad influence you were on his daughter,” Hawke grits back.

All of us girls laugh because it’s the most hypocritical thing Hawke could say. A tray is brought to us with more shot glasses, and Ivy makes a point to give one to Hawke first with a pout. “Come now, Hawke. You and I both know what our girl here needs is a little fun. We can’t be nothing but work, right?”

She looks pointedly at Dutton, who doesn’t reply. Everyone is laughing as we clink glasses and drink the shots. We’re all so different, and yet we just work. I know everyone in this group, including Eli and Ford, who are watching from the private booth will have my back no matter what. So why do I feel the need for something more? Why do I give a flying fuck about a connection I can’t place a title on with a certain detective who drives me insane? It doesn’t make any sense.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I shout over the music, and Ivy skips to my side. “I can pee by myself, you know.” I laugh, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“Girls should always go to the bathroom together. You never know who—” A man barges past her, shooting her an annoyed look. “Hey, watch where you’re going, asshole!”

He sneers, and I wonder if the idiot has any fucking idea whose club he’s in because if he did, he wouldn’t disrespect her so openly. “Shut up, skank, nobody cares.”

“What did you just call me?” Ivy goes to grab him by his hair, but I pull her back and shake my head. Although I’m certain Ivy can tear a man to shreds, just like Billie, Posie, and me, she’s not labeled as a killer in our group.

“No. Fuck that guy. Men like that shouldn’t even exist. It drives me insane.” She curses, infuriated. I keep my gaze trained on the man to make sure he’s leaving. I’m certain I’ve seen him before. I think he was in one of the classes that I guest lectured for a few months ago. Green mohawks are distinctive and hard to forget. If memory serves correctly, Charlotte said he made a pass at her and that he made her really uncomfortable. I can understand why; the guy gives off a menacing aura.

Obviously, none of the men in our group saw what happened because if they did, he’d already be thrown into the closest wall of spikes in a torture chamber that I’m certain Eli has here.

My phone buzzes again. It’s been going off all night. I ignore it as I go to the bathroom. The room tilts, and I lean against the wall as I pee.Fuck. I’m really drunk.

“What’s brought this on lately?” Ivy asks in the stall beside me. I could ask her the same. I feel like she’s been spending more time with me than usual when I come back from trips. Maybe it’s for the same reason that Hawke is. Now that Billie is preoccupied in her relationship with Ford, Ivy’s looking for her next person. All three of us are close, but I can’t help but feel like a consolation prize.

“I don’t know. I just want to do something different,” I admit. Lies have been piling up on each other, and I don’t even know who I am anymore. I thought dropping out of college and refining my schedule would help me pursue something else. But it turns out my calendar just fills up with more projects and events.

I’m tired, and my only outlet is something depraved and twisted. I feel like I’m drowning as I try to hide such a prominent part of me and replace it with something else.

My phone buzzes again. It’s the fourth call from my agent. She doesn’t usually call this late, but I ignore her again.

I pull up my leather pants and take a breath to try and center myself as I step out to wash my hands. Ivy is touching up her hair and makeup. She looks at me then, placing a hand on her hip.

“What are you running away from, Hope? I don’t mind partying with you, girl, but you’ve been acting differently this last year, more so lately. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Ivy’s so beautiful and sure of who she is. She lives as she pleases and dances only to her own tune. She’s incredibly talented and doesn’t need validation from others. She’s living freely.

Her only secret is how good she is at hacking and tracking like her father. And the only reason she doesn’t tell her parents is because she’s not yet sure if she wants to pursue that into the underworld, so she uses her skills as a freelance IT specialist.

I couldn’t imagine her harboring a dark and unattractive part of her.

She dips her head to the side, looking back at me inquisitively.

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