Page 20 of Web of Lies
"Is it?" The pitch of her voice rises with confusion.
"Yes, because I look forward to seeing you bring your criminal past and your "normal" life together for one day."
"It's not funny! It’s arealproblem!" She throws her hands up and falls back into her chair.
"Why not have two different ceremonies?" My shoulders lift in a shrug.
"Because it wouldn't be the same, and then I'd have to decide who gets to see the "real" first one." Her lips purse into a pout. "I want all of my friends there. I mean, I trust you to sit beside some of my girlfriends, but some of the other guests?"
"They all know there will be outsiders, and we all know how to keep our mouths shut. It'll be fine."
"God, I hope you're right. I want it to be a perfect day." She says with a sigh.
"Is any wedding ever perfect?"
"Probably not." A small laugh slips out of her. "But as long as the ceremony goes well and I get my cake, I can deal with a couple of hiccups during the reception."
The sudden, thunderous roar of an engine interrupts our conversation, and Evelyn and I both turn toward the sound, ruining our otherwise peaceful noon. My gaze lands on two guys in full gear sitting on their motorcycles across the street.
"Idiots," I mutter.
"I totally agree," Evelyn adds.
Chapter 11
Kyle
My eyes are glued to the red dot flashing on the screen of my navigation system mounted to my motorcycle. I'm not proud of what I'm doing, but Riley is sticking her nose where it doesn't belong, investigating people who wouldn't think twice about making her disappear. Trouble is practically waiting around the corner, ready to attack and snatch her away from me. So yeah, I slipped a tracker into her wallet, allowing me to keep an eye on her, and if anything suspicious happens, I can get to her.
After another turn, I pull into the street where the red dot has been for about ten minutes and find her standing in front of a coffee shop. She's holding her iced coffee, the straw trapped between her lips, and sipping her drink while her eyes are glued to her phone. Every now and then, she looks up and scans the crowd as if searching for something—or rather, someone.
Across the street, I weave my bike through the busy traffic and pull into a small, shaded parking lot with a clear view of her. My boots hit the pavement as I kill the engine and kick down the stand, settling into a comfortable position.
My brows knit together in a frown. She's definitely waiting for someone, but she didn't mention she was going out today. Then again, she doesn't have to tell me. And honestly, it's probably better she doesn’t. We agreed not to be exclusive, and for the first two months, everything was working out. But by month three, there was one night when something inside me snapped. Admittedly, I was in a rough spot because I wasn't taking my medication, and I was at an all-time low. So, when she told me about a date, I might have followed them, which resulted in me paying the guy a visit after he spent the night at her place, and probably slept with her. It was nothing dramatic. He stopped responding to her, and unless she finds a way to communicate with the dead, she won't hear from him ever again.
My brows shoot up the moment a familiar face rounds the corner, none other than Evelyn, my brother's fiancée and Riley's best friend. She's wearing the same dress from the photo they sent me this morning during their cake tasting. As soon as they spot each other, their faces light up. My tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth as I watch Evelyn pick up the pace, jogging toward Riley with a bright smile and pulling her into a hug.
I keep my eyes locked on their lively exchange as Evelyn loops her arm through Riley's and the two of them head down the street, disappearing around the corner into a bustling area with restaurants. My attention drops back to the navigation system, tracking the small red dot as it continues its steady movement down the road.
With a low hum, I fire up the engine again and ease my bike back into traffic, keeping a safe distance behind them. Eventually, the dot comes to a halt, and I glance up to see the two of them settling at an outdoor table of a crowded restaurant. They're laughing, chatting, completely at ease, caught up in conversation with the server.
I grit my teeth and keep going, pulling into the parking lot. I kill the engine, drop the kickstand—helmet still on, visor down—and watch them through the blur of passing cars.
Then, out of nowhere, another motorcycle comes screeching to a halt right in front of me, blocking my view. My jaw clenches, and I'm ready to jump the son of a bitch for messing with me, already shifting in my seat, when the comms in my helmet crackle to life.
"Mind telling me what you're doing here?" Noah's voice comes from the speaker. Flat, clipped, and way too calm.
I exhale sharply through my nose at the realization that it is my brother and bite back the list of curses. "Wasting time until I was supposed to meet you," I say, with a sigh. All tension melting from my muscles.
He pauses for a moment. A static hum fills the silence as he turns his head toward the restaurant and then back to me. "Here, of all places?"
"Why?" I ask, acting surprised.
"Evelyn is sitting right there in that restaurant. It almost looks like you're stalking her."
"Maybe I'm just keeping tabs on my future sister-in-law to make sure she's serious about you."
"I can do that myself. Her birth control implant got GPS."
