Page 63 of Mischievous Lies

“No,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

He chuckles as if hearing no is a challenge, and he’s completely in control of this situation. He reaches for his glass of wine and takes a sip. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you. You have a little more bite. Before I dated Makayla, do you even remember me trying to get your number?” He’s trying to romanticize the situation.

Wow, this asshole is a total manipulator, but he’s fucking terrible at it. But I suppose if he’s encouraged women around him to take drugs, they’re more susceptible to it. I feel so stupid not having intervened with Makayla sooner. “It was you I wanted, but I settled for her to be closer to you.”

I consider the fork to my right and how it might look in his eye but curl my nails into my palms instead. I might be boiling inside, fueled by rage, but a killer I’m not. Not for him. But it doesn’t mean there aren’t ways to hurt a man, just a little.Because someone has to do it, right?I think, shooting a quick glance at the steak knife on my right.

“But it’s okay. That obstacle is gone now. I made it work for us,” he says, deranged. “I even came back sooner than I thought I’d be able to, just so I could see you. Can’t you see how much I love you?” I think I’m going to be sick. “Let’s go back to my place after this and talk about it. We’ll have more privacy there.”

Nausea churns in my stomach. This guy actually believes what he’s saying, and I don’t know if this is before or after he killed Makayla and the other woman. I can’t tell if he was sane orwasn’t. But one thing’s obvious—he killed them to save his own ass, and they never deserved that.

My nails are biting into the palm of my hand because I know I need to lead him somewhere secluded so the boys can grab him, but I don’t want to be anywhere near him. Just as I’m about to agree and suggest we leave now, a voice booms over my shoulder, and all that nauseating tension curling in my stomach quickly dissipates. Even if it’s not the plan, I feel safer knowing he’s here.

“Sorry to interrupt, lover, but I heard there was a fuckhead trying to steal my girl.”

But he’s a little before his cue.

CHAPTER 38

Hawke

Ford rang me as soon as Billie filled him in on the details Ivy had shared with her. I’m proud of my little hacker for opening up to her best friend about what’s happening. She’s more than capable of dabbling in this life, which isn’t a surprise considering who her father is. But I don’t want it to harden her like it has most of us. Ivy seems like someone who needs the support of her friends.

I’m watching from outside the restaurant, as we previously discussed. Ivy might’ve thrown me off her case when we argued that night, and she found out about Eli’s separate operation, but having them reach out to me is her way of saying she’s sorry. Besides, even if I didn’t have the time and location of this meetup, I would’ve found out pretty fucking fast because there’s no way I’m letting some douchebag like that enjoy a date with my woman.

Ford and Billie are parked on a side street just across the way. And Ford is watching me, leaning against his car. I refuse to bewaitingfor her because I won’t risk anything happening to her.

I watch as Ivy leans over the table, intentionally pushing her cleavage together. He’s practically drooling at the sight. Fuck, itturns me on seeing her in action. Her confidence that can bend any man to her will. I’m no exception to that, but I know without a doubt I’m the only man who can handle Ivy Walker. Anyone else she’ll eat alive, like the tool she’s with right now. I adjust my cock as I watch her run her hands up his leg under the table.

It brings me great pleasure to know I’m going to be breaking that little man into tiny pieces. But watching her at work… is everything to me. The fucker never had a chance.

I can tell the moment the conversation turns. I’ve seen it all too often. There’s a truth in our darkness, and not everyone can handle it. We’ve become attuned to the moment when the inner crazy comes out in others. Some people’s sins eat them from the inside out. Grief devours others whole until they’re a shell of the person they were, letting their demons run on autopilot.

A flash of the woman I killed comes to mind. She’d become fixated on killing us after we killed her boyfriend. I can’t blame her. I’d do the same. But I would walk away without so much as a second thought. It ate her alive. This schmuck seems like the same type.

Except I haven’t walked away from that unscathed,I remind myself. Killing that woman will never be okay with me. It’s the only code I’ve lived by to not entirely hate myself or what I do because I don’t love every part of my job. But that? That makes men feel dirty.

I can lipread some of the bullshit he’s saying. That it was always Ivy he wanted. Not her friend.This guy’s fucking delusional if he thinks someone like Ivy will give him the time of day.

My temperament changes the moment I notice how her shoulders stiffen, and she becomes tense. Most people probably don’t notice her subtle changes, but I notice everything about her. Ivy is a lover, not a fighter. It’s something I find very interesting about her because, at the same time, while she mightbe classified as a lover, her intelligence is lethal. Especially now as she honeytraps this pinprick.

I see her nails curl into her palms, and I’m moving.

“Wait, Hawke, she needs to isolate him. Hawke!” Ford calls out after me, and I hear him growl his irritation.

I loom over her, my favorite position to be in, as my glare burns a hole in the douchebag sitting across from her. “Sorry to interrupt, lover, but I heard there was a fuckhead trying to steal my girl.”

She turns in her seat to meet my gaze, and I see instant relief wash over her. Then it’s quickly replaced with something else, and I know she’s probably pissed because I came in a little earlier than planned. I don’t give a fuck. Everyone says I’m impulsive anyway, so I have a reputation to maintain.

“A little early, don’t you think?” she quietly whispers. There are a few couples at nearby tables, but I don’t particularly care. Especially when my father owns this restaurant, and anything that happens can be covered up quickly.

“Stand up, lover. We’re leaving,” I tell her. Her job here is done. We’ll handle the rest going forward. The moment she started to become uncomfortable was the moment I was always going to pull her out.

“What the fuck is this? You’re the same asshole from the party. You fucking hurt my friend!” he snaps, standing up. “Ivy is going with me, so I suggest you leave.”

“Oh, ho?” I growl as I size him up, and Ivy stands between us. “Did the little asshole grow some balls because he killed someone?” He pales as if realizing he’s exposed himself. Fucking idiot. I lean in. “Let me tell you, from one killer to another, anyone who so much as touches a woman is a piece of shit. You’re a coward, and I particularly enjoy torturing cowards.”

“Hawke, you need to stop,” Ivy says, and I don’t know why I’m getting lectured. There are only a few onlookers. Besides,there’s not a thing to see here. But when I glance down, I notice the steak knife she’s holding, and my mind goes blank. “I want to hear what he says.”

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