Page 22 of Web of Lies
"Huh?" I glance up at him, cocking a brow. "What do you mean?"
He takes a drag from his cigarette and leans back. "They've got the right mindset," he says, "connecting the right dots. Following the right leads."
"So, you're saying they could actually find the Butcher?"
He shrugs as if it's nothing. But it's not nothing, and he knows that better than anyone else. "It's possible. Very few know the Butcher's true identity. All it takes is for this person to find one of them. If they continue working the way they are right now, it's only a matter of time." I remain silent, my grip tightens around my glass, the ice clinking against the rim. "Could it be that Huntis the one looking for him? Did you find the document in any way related to him?" Noah asks.
"Hunt? God, no. I'm staying far away from that cocky asshole." I let out a sharp snort. "Why do you ask?"
"Evelyn asked me about the Butcher while she was on the phone with Riley, but I didn't give her any information other than a handful of restaurants."
"Maybe just a coincidence. With the recent raid on that one shop, the topic is back in the news again. And with your charming reputation, the idea of you being friends with someone like him isn't too far-fetched."
"True," Noah sighs and stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray, smoke curling around the end. "Whoever it is should stop digging, though, unless they want to find themselves six feet under. Or worse."
"I agree," I say, lifting my glass to my lips. Noah's gaze remains fixed on me, narrowing his eye, like he is trying to find the crack in the façade behind which I hide the truth from him.
I hate that he knows me better than I do most of the time. But that's our curse. I know him just as well. We met on the first day of school when we were only six years old, with no idea of how much blood would be on our hands one day. From then on, we grew up side by side, collecting scars that most people couldn't imagine and keeping secrets that no one would ever understand. I was the first one there when he killed someone at sixteen, and he was there the first time I pulled the trigger. Thirty years teach you more than trust; they make you fluent in each other.
"If you've got something to say, say it." I push, meeting his stare.
"If it isn't Hunt. Is it your secret girlfriend?"
"No, it has nothing to do with her." The lie slips from my lips a little too easily and faster than intended. "And she's not mygirlfriend," I add, and the corner of Noah's mouth twitches into a humorous smirk.
"Noah, Kyle." An all-too-familiar voice interrupts our conversation, and our heads snap toward the entrance just in time to see Evelyn strutting into the lounge. Her heels click against the marble, and shopping bags dangle from her arm. Every man in the room turns to ogle her; some steal subtle glances while others don't even bother hiding the blatant thirst in their gaze. Noah is already on his feet, ready to greet her, but Evelyn beats him to it and, with a dramatic huff, drops onto the leather sofa beside him. "My feet are killing me," she mutters, sighing as if she's just run a marathon. Noah sits back down beside her and wraps one arm around her waist.
"Hey, Dove," he says in a hushed tone.
"Hey, my love." She leans in and presses a slow, lingering kiss on his cheek, leaving a faint lipstick stain. Then, she turns to me and grabs a cheese pick from the snack board on the table. "Hey, Kyle. Long time no see," she says, popping the cheese into her mouth. Meanwhile, Noah raises his hand and waves at the server, signaling that he wants the drink he ordered earlier.
"Hey, Eve," I say, flashing her a grin. "The longest twenty-four hours of my life."
"What did I miss?" she asks, leaning into Noah's side.
"Kyle was about to tell me about his girlfriend." Noah doesn't hesitate, and Evelyn perks up instantly, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Girlfriend?" she repeats, her hand dropping to Noah's thigh. "You have a girlfriend? Why haven't we met her yet?"
"She's not my girlfriend," I say, already regretting having this conversation.
"Then what is she?"
"We're just hooking up. It's nothing serious."
"Yet you're only seeing her." Noah raises an eyebrow.
Evelyn's gaze flicks between the two of us. "Do you want it to be serious?" she asks.
"No," I say a little too quickly, prompting Evelyn to raise her brows. "I mean, I don't know." I sigh, the taste of defeat bitter on my tongue. Evelyn won’t drop the topic until she has all the information she needs, so the best approach is to feed her the crumbs she needs to be satisfied.
"Sounds like it if you're meeting her only." Evelyn smiles and leans forward, reaching for an olive. "So, what's so special about her?"
"She's completely different from any woman I've dated before."
"In what way?" she asks while she keeps picking at the snacks.
"I usually prefer women who are naïve and believe all the things I tell them. But she's confident and smart, and she doesn't put up with my nonsense. She sees through the bullshit and talks back."
