Dare to Lie

by Jen McLaughlin

  “Thank you for getting here so fast. I . . .” Tate glanced at me, over Sky’s head, and broke off. His focus shifted to my shoulder, and the blood smeared all over it, and then to the fact that I wasn’t wearing a shirt. It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together as he lowered his lids and took in what his sister was wearing—and, more important, what she wasn’t. When he met my eyes again, there was a quiet rage in them, one that promised much more than a gunshot to the shoulder when he was finished with me. “You son of a bitch.”

  I fell back against the wall, blinking in an attempt to keep my consciousness, and heard police sirens in the distance. “Sir, I can explain—”

  With a blur of speed that the Flash himself would envy, Tate launched himself at me, taking me down. My head slammed into the wall behind me, and I saw nothing for a few seconds. When my vision cleared, he was on top of me, his face red with rage and his blue eyes blazing with hatred. He grabbed my hair, lifted my head, and slammed it into the floor again. “I trusted you. You were supposed to fucking protect her. You promised me you wouldn’t touch her.”

  Sky lurched to her feet, pulling on Tate’s arm. “Stop!”

  Tate shook her off and lifted his fist, slamming it into my nose. Pain burst over my skull, and I pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him the hell off me, but it was useless. I was already weak, and my body was done taking a beating for the day.

  Skylar screamed, and it sounded like it came from a distance, even though I knew she was next to me. “Stop it! You’re hurting him!”

  “Damn right I am,” Tate growled.

  I opened my eyes, having every intention of assuring her I was fine, but I couldn’t find the energy to speak. Huh. Maybe I wasn’t okay after all. She pulled on his elbow, falling on her butt when he shook loose of her hold, and I growled when she fell back.

  “I . . . I love him!”

  Tate froze, his eyes going wide, and turned to her slowly. “What did you just say?”

  “You heard me,” she shot back stubbornly.

  I blinked, and a strangled groan escaped me. “The ops re oming,” I managed to warn.

  Brian cleared his throat, eyeing me nervously as he stepped forward. “Mr. Daniels? He’s right. The sirens are getting closer. What do you want to do?”

  Tate leaned in and whispered, “You’re dead, Agent Donahue. Dead.”

  At first I thought I was hearing things, that the blows to my head had messed with my hearing, but then I saw the way he looked at me. The only thing stopping him from pressing a gun to my temple right now and pulling the trigger was the fact that the cops were minutes away, and his baby sister was right there. The same one who thought he was a saint, and not a killer.

  He pushed off me, leaving me where I lay.

  Skylar stared at me with horror, trembling. She scrambled to my side, touching my chin gently. “Oh my God. Scotty?”

  I tried to smile. “I’m okay, sugar.”

  Tate made a choked sound and turned to Brian, ignoring us both. “You go. I’m staying here with her. Go to the office and continue to take care of the preparations for next Friday.”

  Brian hesitated. He had a record and couldn’t afford to be caught with a bunch of dead bodies. Tate was squeaky clean, so he had nothing to worry about. Not to mention the fact that his sister would seriously question his need to run from the police. “But, boss—”

  “Understood?” Tate growled.

  Brian nodded, cast one last look at me, and then was gone.

  Skylar sobbed, brushing my hair off my forehead, glaring over her shoulder at her brother. “You hurt him. He was already shot.”

  Tate grit his teeth, his upper lip curling. “I don’t give a damn.”

  Her soft fingers touched my chest. “But I love him,” she said softly. “You can’t just hit him.”

  Tate stiffened, not speaking.

  Cops rushed in, guns held up, and screamed, “Nobody move! Hands on your head.”

  Tate put his hands on his head.

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

  Skylar choked on a sob, lifting her hands and entwining them behind her head. Her strawberry blonde hair was knotted and straggly, slightly damp with blood and God only knew what else. “Please help him. He saved my life.”

  Tate stiffened even more. “These men broke into her apartment, and shot at her and her . . . boyfriend.”

  “And you are?” the cop asked, his voice hard.

  “Her brother.” He opened his mouth, closed it, and then looked at me. “And his boss.”

  The cop knelt beside me, pulling his radio closer to his mouth. “This is Walker 1-F reporting. We have a GSW victim and need a bus. Also three DOA. Send the ME and transport.”

  I blinked against the blackness, and the last thing I saw was Skylar’s face, pale, worried, and hovering over mine as everything faded away. She was probably the last thing I’d ever see, because as soon as Tate got a chance, I would be a dead man . . .

  Whether I was awake enough to know it or not.

  CHAPTER 18

  SKYLAR

  I paced the confines of the tiny, poorly lit waiting room for the millionth time, hugging myself and purposely avoiding my brother’s eyes. He’d been frowning at me all night, ever since I told him I loved Scotty, and quite frankly—it was getting a little old. As if his silent disapproval wasn’t enough, the police made me tell my story over and over again, until even I didn’t believe what I was saying, and I lived through it. And Scotty . . .

  God, Scotty.

  I didn’t even know if he was alive.

  Did people die from a shoulder wound and a beating from an angry brother? Or was he lying in a hospital bed somewhere, healing? Or even worse . . . was he currently being arrested? Those men had said he was still in the gang, and if he was, then the chances of him walking away from this without punishment were slim to none. Would this be his first offense?

  I eyed Tate, wanting to ask him for more information, but I knew now was not the time. Running my fingers through my knotty hair, I let out an agitated breath. They’d finally released me from questioning twenty minutes ago, and we’d rushed over here to check on Scotty without changing or showering first.

  Well, I’d rushed here.

  Tate refused to leave my side, so he was along for the ride, even though he clearly didn’t care whether or not Scotty was okay. When he passed out on my living room floor, and I thought he’d died . . .

  Yeah. I kinda lost it.

  Tate had held me back as the paramedics hauled Scotty away, his skin ashen and his jaw hard as he watched me freak out. I’d never seen him so pensive. So disapproving of me and my choices. I had a million questions for Scotty, and he had a lot to answer for, but first I had to make sure he was alive to answer those questions.

  Tate grabbed my bicep as I passed him, halting my pacing, an unopened bottle of water in his hand. “Jesus, Skylar. Calm down. Sit and take a drink of—”

  “I’m perfectly calm,” I snapped, pulling free. “I just want to know if he’s okay.”

  He leaned back in the chair, frowning so deeply his creases had creases. I resumed my pacing because it was the only thing keeping me calm right now. My mind replayed what happened earlier in my apartment, and I bit my tongue hard enough to make my eyes sting. What I’d done back there . . .

  I was becoming a doctor. It was my duty, as a future healer, to make people better . . .

  Not kill them.

  Logically, I knew what I’d done was self-defense. But I also knew that if I hadn’t opened the door for Scotty, they wouldn’t have come to my place. That didn’t make the outcome any different, but it did open my eyes to the truth of what Scotty had been saying this whole time. I understood what he meant now. All this time, he’d been warning me away, telling me that being with him would hurt me. And it had.

&n
bsp; Just not in the way I’d expected.

  “He’ll be fine. Guys like him always are,” Tate said, rubbing his forehead.

  I shook my head. “But what if they arrest him?”

  “Then they arrest him . . .” Tate crossed his ankles, and shrugged. “And you move on to someone more appropriate for you.”

  I stiffened. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that,” he agreed.

  The hypocrisy choked me. He was so . . . “How can you be that cold toward a man you work with? A man you clearly trust?”

  “Trusted,” he said, his voice hard. “Big difference.”

  “And he broke your ‘trust’ because he likes me?”

  “Among other reasons,” he said slowly. “Reasons you’ll never understand, or know. He lied to me about more than just you, Skylar. And you lied to me, too. Right to my face.”

  I never picked a fight with my brother. Never yelled at him. Always tried to be considerate, and understanding, and everything he taught me to be. But now . . . I was done with all that crap. “Why did you do it?”

  He looked bored. “Why did I do what? You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Why did you send him in your place that day?” I asked, turning back to him, finally standing still. “At the auction.”

  He blinked, clearly caught off guard by my question. “Because you needed a guy there, and I couldn’t go.”

  I shook my head. “No matter how many times I try to figure it out, I can’t make sense out of why you’d send him to me that night, if you disapproved of him like you say you do.” I held my hands out, palm up. “Why him, out of all the people who work for you? Why not a normal guy, like the ones you constantly try to hook me up with? But, no, you send Scotty, and then get upset when I fall for him.”

  “At the time, he was the only man available who had the proper age and looks. Unless you wouldn’t mind me sending a sixty-year-old in his place?”

  “That’s what you’re going with?” I asked angrily. I’d been to his office. I knew he was lying. “Seriously?”

  He tugged on his collar, sitting up straight, and didn’t look directly at me. Instead, he lowered his head and stared at the bottle he still held, turning it in his hands. He’d washed Scotty’s blood off them hours ago, but I could still see it. Still see him on top of the man I loved, slamming his fist into his nose. Could still hear him yelling about breaking promises . . .

  “Yep. I’m going with that.”

  I pointed at him. “Liar.”

  “No, I’m not.” He shifted in his seat. “I—”

  The door to the waiting room opened, and I whirled on my heel, breath held. A nurse in white scrubs stood there, an iPad in her hand. “Are you the family of Scotty Donahue?”

  “I’m his . . . girlfriend. He doesn’t have family.” I stepped forward, biting down on my lower lip. “I’m all he has, that I know of.”

  The nurse glanced down at the iPad. “Your name?”

  “Skylar Daniels.”

  The other woman nodded. “He has you listed as a contact. Follow me.”

  “Wait.” Tate stood, putting his hands in his pockets. “Is he okay?”

  “Your name?” she asked.

  “I’m sure he didn’t list me as a contact,” he said dryly.

  The woman stared at Tate. “I cannot discuss the condition of a patient without the permission of said patient. So . . . your name, sir?”

  He flushed, rocking back on his heels. “Tate Daniels.”

  “You’re listed.”

  “Wait. What?” Tate asked.

  She nodded once. “Follow me, too, if you’d like.”

  I stared at Tate. He looked surprised Scotty had listed him as a contact. Even more surprised than me. “Still don’t trust him?” I whispered furiously.

  Tate remained silent, staring straight ahead.

  We trailed after the nurse, side by side. We passed rooms filled with beeping machines, and nurses made their way through the halls, looking about as enthusiastic as the one we followed. Some had more of a pep to their step, and I suspected they were at the beginning of their shift. We stopped in front of room 312, and she knocked on the wall. “We good?”

  “Yes,” a masculine voice replied.

  One who wasn’t Scotty.

  The nurse went inside, and we followed. A man with brown hair and brown eyes stood there, looking down at Scotty. He wore a police uniform, so it didn’t take a whole lot to figure out why he was here. “If you think of anything else . . . ?”

  “I’ll let you know.” Scotty glanced at Tate quickly, then away. “Thank you.”

  The officer nodded once, and then walked past us, nodding at Tate once. Tate nodded back. He held his hat to his chest as he inclined his head my way. “Ma’am.”

  “Officer,” I said quietly.

  He left, and the nurse checked the screens showing Scotty’s heart rate and blood pressure before pressing her fingers to his wrist. Scotty stared at me, looking a little out of it. I didn’t blame him. He nodded at something the nurse said, and then she headed our way. “Visiting hours end in thirty minutes.”

  And then she left the three of us alone.

  Tate shifted on his feet. “You made it?”

  “Yeah.” Scotty cleared his throat. “I made it.”

  “The nose?” Tate asked casually.

  “Broken.”

  Tate snorted. “About time someone besides Chris took a hit to the nose.”

  Scotty didn’t reply. He was so pale, he almost looked like a ghost. He had tape across his nose, and bruising was already forming all around his eyes and his cheekbones. His shoulder looked puffy under his hospital gown, and his hair stood up all over the place.

  “Scotty . . .” I walked up to the side of the bed, my fingers itching to touch him.

  He turned away from Tate, and tilted his face up to me, smiling faintly. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I echoed back, my voice cracking. I reached out to push his hair off his forehead the way he liked it, but stopped halfway, dropping my hand at my side. Seeing him like this, in a hospital bed, did things to me. Bad things. Memories of my mom lying in a hospital bed, breathing her last rattling breath, hit me hard. I’d been alone. Our father hadn’t let Tate come, so I’d been the one to hold her hand as she left this world. And I’d been the one to make all the arrangements by myself, since that man couldn’t be bothered to come and say good-bye to his ex-wife. And Tate hadn’t gotten to see Mom one last time.

  I forced my mind off my mother, and onto what mattered right now.

  Scotty.

  “I . . . Are you okay?” I asked.

  He nodded slightly. He had wires sticking out of him, and he looked grayer than a corpse, but he was still breathing, so that had to be enough for now. “I told you, I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse than this. Give me a few days, and I’ll be back on my feet, causing trouble like usual.”

  “Not too fast,” I argued. “You need to heal.”

  Scotty nodded, his jaw flexing, and stared at Tate.

  Tate cleared his throat and looked my way. “Can we have a minute, Skylar?”

  Leave him alone with Tate? “No way. Whatever you have to say to him, you can say in front of me.”

  “It’s okay.” Scotty touched my arm. “Could you go ask the nurse for some water? I’m thirsty.”

  “But—”

  He squeezed reassuringly. “Sky? Please.”

  “I just want to ask him a few questions, that’s all. Then I’ll give you two some privacy to say what needs saying, and wait for you in the waiting room until you’re done,” Tate said dryly.

  Scotty nodded. “Go on, sugar. I’ll be here when you come back, I promise.”

  Tate stiffened even more at the pet name.

  I hesitated, but nodded. �
�All right. I’ll be right back.”

  He smiled at me, the skin under his eyes shaded with gray exhaustion.

  I walked out, glaring at Tate as I went. After I closed the door behind me, I walked out into the hallway, and covered my face, taking a deep, long, shaky breath.

  Because, God, I needed it.

  CHAPTER 19

  SCOTTY

  The second the door closed behind Skylar, I felt her absence. It was a feeling I’d have to become accustomed to. No matter what happened from this point on, I wouldn’t be by her side.

  I locked eyes with Tate.

  He walked to my side of the bed, staring at the IV pumping fluids into me, looking all casual and calm, even though he was probably plotting my death right now.

  “Sir, I know you’re upset, but I really—”

  “Upset doesn’t begin to cover my feelings on this subject. I gave you specific instructions when it came to my sister and you failed to follow them. Now there will be consequences,” Tate said, his voice eerily calm and cool.

  “It’s not like you think. Skylar and I—”

  “There is no you and Skylar. When she comes back in here, you are going to break her heart and make sure she never wants to see you again.”

  His voice was still perfectly calm.

  Like he didn’t really give a shit, when we both knew he did.

  I shook my head. If he wanted to kill me, he could damn well try, but he couldn’t force me to hurt her like that. “No.”

  “No?” he asked, raising his brows in surprise.

  “No.” I squared my jaw. “I’m not scared of you, and I’m not scared of dying. There’s nothing you can do to get me to fall in line, nothing you can threaten me with, that will make me hurt her with more lies. From now on, she gets nothing but the truth from me, no matter what you say.”

  He made a choked sound. Maybe it was his pride cutting off his air circulation.

  I stared at him, not saying anything else.

  There was nothing more to say.