Dare to Lie

by Jen McLaughlin

  “Work meeting?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Brian—”

  “Not Brian, sir,” Scotty said. I froze, my heart shattering into shrapnel, all because I heard his voice. I dreamt of it every night, but it wasn’t the same. “Sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”

  Tate’s entire body tensed as he stepped in front of me, as if I needed his protection from Scotty of all people. “This is . . . unexpected, Scotty,” he said, his voice colder than ice. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  Scotty took another step inside the room, carefully avoiding my eyes. In fact, he didn’t even look at me. His long fingers were curled into fists, and his gray khakis bulged slightly where the bandages on his leg must be. A cobalt blue tie broke up the stark whiteness of his button-up shirt and made his green eyes seem impossibly bright. If it wasn’t for the ever-present brown leather jacket, it would be easy to mistake him for the corporate intern he had claimed to be.

  He looked so . . . so . . . different.

  “Unorthodox, too, I know. We need to talk.” Scotty flicked a quick glance my way, his eyes empty and . . . yeah. Empty. That was the only way to explain it. “Alone.”

  I knew a dismissal when I heard one. “I was just leaving, so . . .” Crossing the room, I grabbed my purse, slinging it over my shoulder. I walked right past Scotty, and his cologne teased my senses. “I’ll call you later, Tate.”

  Scotty slowly counted down on his fingers, then grabbed my elbow. “Sky . . .”

  I froze, heart pounding, and glared down at his hand. He immediately let go. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Why didn’t you return my calls?” I whispered furiously. I could feel Tate watching us, eyes narrow.

  He lifted his chin. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Too busy to answer the phone?”

  He didn’t say anything. Just stared straight ahead.

  “Look at me,” I snapped.

  He did. And when he did, I almost wished he hadn’t. There was nothing there. Just a bleakness that made me want to cry. It was like he wasn’t fighting the good fight anymore, like he’d just given up. That hurt almost as much as his rejection had.

  “Scotty . . .”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, then pressed it into a tight line. “I’ve got to talk to your brother, Sky. I need to sort things out with him.”

  But not with me.

  Me, he just blew off.

  “Go to hell,” I breathed, brushing past him. “You two deserve each other.”

  And then I walked out.

  Leaving my mangled heart behind in his hands.

  CHAPTER 25

  SCOTTY

  The second the door shut behind Sky, Tate spoke. “She knows the truth about why you broke up with her. I told her the morning she came to see you in the hospital.”

  “You knew about that?” I asked in surprise.

  “Of course I did. She was at my place,” Tate said.

  “But you let her go?” I was still caught off guard, both by the unexpected run-in with Sky, and by Tate’s almost-friendly tone as he spoke. “Why?”

  “I think we both know that Skylar does what she wants.” He shrugged. “And Bitter Hill has been neutralized for the moment, so there was no danger in her going to see you. Aside from the danger you pose anyway.”

  I stiffened. “I would never hurt her.”

  “Maybe not on purpose.” He poured a glass of whiskey, and set it down in front of me. I didn’t touch it. “But you will.”

  “Why would I?” I countered.

  “You’re in the DEA, for starters.” He sat. I sat, too, slowly lowering myself into the chair so it didn’t strain my stitches. “She knows all about me.”

  My chest tightened. “What?”

  “She knows everything.” He picked up his glass, spinning it in his fingers. “If you go after me, you’ll be taking her down, too. You’ll have to. She’ll be culpable.”

  Well, shit. The last thing I wanted to do was put Skylar in jeopardy, and he knew it as well as I did. It also didn’t leave me with many options—not good ones, anyway. Anger surged in my veins, choking me. “Did you tell her, just to fuck us up even more?”

  “I would never do that to her,” Tate snapped back angrily. “She figured it out years ago, on her own, and just recently admitted it to me.”

  So much went through my head. All those times I talked about the Sons, and what being in a gang meant, she’d known full well who my boss had been. And she’d never even hinted at it. She was better at this game than I’d thought. “Shit. That’s that, then.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Sky loves you.” I tapped my fingers on my good thigh. “I won’t take away her brother, and I won’t risk her getting in trouble or having to testify against you.” I sat up straight. “This game of metaphorical chess we’ve been playing is over.”

  Tate cocked a brow. “I didn’t realize we were playing a game at all.”

  “Sure you did.” I tapped harder. “But the terrain has changed. Bitter Hill is a nonissue for the moment and I upheld my end of the bargain with Sky, so it’s time for you to do your part. I need your word you won’t hurt Chris, Lucas, Molly, or Heidi.”

  Tate flexed his jaw, his eyes hard. “Does this mean you’ve decided to take me up on my offer?”

  “No, not exactly.” I shrugged my leather jacket off, laying it on the table between us. “You told me that the time would come where I had to make a choice between the Sons or the DEA. That time is now.”

  “Damn it, Donahue,” he growled. “Don’t do this.”

  “You’ve left me with no choice. I won’t be dirty, so I guess I’m putting myself at the mercy of the Sons.”

  Tate shook his head, letting out another hard laugh, but his eyes told another story. He almost looked . . . upset. “You won’t even consider playing both sides?”

  “I can’t,” I replied.

  “Can’t?” He gritted his teeth. “Or won’t?”

  “Doesn’t matter, does it?”

  “You know what this means. You’re asking me to put a death sentence on the man my sister loves,” Tate pointed out. “Instead, why not continue on as we have been? I’ve always known what you are, you’ve always gotten intel, and then passed it along to your handler. Nothing has to change.”

  “I know the truth now.” My nostrils flared. “I won’t do it.”

  He made an angry sound. “I’ll have to tell everyone what you are.”

  “Do what you have to do. I’ll accept the consequences of my actions.”

  “What about Skylar?” he spat out. “What happens to her, if you’re sentenced to death?”

  I took a deep breath, my heart twisting at the thought of her in pain. “She’ll be fine. She’ll find another guy to fall in love with, one who’s a hell of a lot better than me. Look, someone has to stand up for all the innocent people out there getting caught in the cross fire. No wife should lose a husband to pointless gang wars, no child should lose a father because of a shoot-out, and no mother should mourn her son because he couldn’t run away fast enough.”

  Tate let out a harsh laugh. “And you’re going to make all that happen? You’re going to save them all?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “But I have to try.”

  Tate said nothing. Just stared at me.

  “I’ve let loyalty to you and my brothers blind me for too long. I ignored the consequences of what the Sons do. I let myself believe that you weren’t all bad.” I shoved a hand through my hair. “But I see the whole picture now. Every move that the Sons make creates a ripple effect on Steel Row, and Boston, and I’m done being a part of that. Done being a Son.”

  “Then you’re a fool.” Tate leaned forward, placing a flat palm on the table. “And y
ou must think I’m an idiot. The second I touch you, I’ll have feds crawling all over me.”

  “No, you won’t,” I said quickly, dragging a hand through my hair. “You have my word.”

  “Your word,” Tate said slowly.

  “Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Out of respect to you, and my brothers, I hand myself over to your judgment, as long as you, in turn, give me your word you won’t hurt my friends and family.”

  “You’re going to die. That’ll hurt them,” Tate replied.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Stop saying that,” Tate growled.

  Then he stared at me.

  So I stared right the fuck back.

  Tate stood, too. “You’re not just a fool. You’re a fool with a death wish.”

  “Do I have your word?” I held my hand out. “Or not?”

  Tate hesitated, staring at my hand. After a few moments of silence, he clasped my hand and shook it. “You have my word. They’ll be safe.”

  We shook, and I let go. I pulled out the Glock Tate had given me last year when I was promoted. He watched me carefully as I laid it down next to the jacket. “And a word of advice if this ends with my death. I suggest you make it look like a mugging or a robbery. There will still be an investigation, but I trust you know how to keep your hands clean. The point is for Sky not to lose her brother.”

  I could feel his gaze on me with each step I took. I was almost out of the door before Brian walked in. I nodded at him, trying to pass.

  He took one look at me, then the table where my jacket and gun were, and stepped in my path. “What the hell is going on?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “Tate will fill you in, I’m sure.” I glanced over my shoulder at the other man. He looked, oddly enough, pissed off. I wasn’t sure why. What more did the man want from me? “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

  Brian frowned even deeper.

  I walked out into the cool, afternoon autumn air, got in my Escalade, and drove. I cruised around the city aimlessly, no destination in mind, just not wanting to go home. I circled the same ten blocks three times, passing Saint Paul’s and the Patriot, until I tired of that and swung out farther, to the West End. It wasn’t until the sun turned the sky a pretty pink-and-orange hue that I realized where I’d wanted to go all along.

  Skylar’s apartment.

  I slowed in front of her building, my grip on the wheel tightening when I saw her lights were off. I should be happy she wasn’t home, or that she’d crashed early. The last thing she needed was me knocking on her door. I’d done enough damage to her life, to her heart.

  But the thing was . . .

  Her heart wasn’t the only one breaking.

  I could still feel her body underneath mine, her arms wrapped around me. And whenever I closed my eyes, I saw her. She was always smiling. Laughing. Kissing me. Looking happy. Haunting me. I had a feeling not even my death would stop her. Gritting my teeth, I swung a wide arc around her block, and then headed home. I had no way of knowing when Tate and the rest of the Sons would come for me, so I might as well make the most of the time I had and maybe send a letter off to Lucas, just in case.

  Sky, too.

  And Chris . . .

  Damn it, what did I even say to the man who had become a brother to me?

  I rubbed my forehead, focusing on the red light ahead. It blurred, shifting shapes, playing with reality. After a few more turns, I pulled up to my house, tightening my grip on the wheel when I saw a familiar Volvo parked in front of my house.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  CHAPTER 26

  SKYLAR

  I held on to the wheel as I watched him slam his truck into park and jump down from the driver’s side. Every limping step he took toward me radiated with anger. Good. I was angry, too.

  Grinding my teeth together, I got out of my car. “Took you long enough,” I snapped at him, itching for a fight. “You get lost?”

  “What the hell are you doing here, sitting alone in your car?” he growled at me, ignoring my question. “You could have been robbed, or raped, or murdered.”

  I stiffened. “I used to live here. I assure you, I can take care of myself. But, hey, thanks for the concern. Glad to know you care.”

  “Shut up, Sky,” he snapped. He dragged a hand through his hair, so it stood up. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I’ve got some stuff to say to you, and you’re going to let me say it.” A curtain moved in the house across the way, but the streets were empty. Only people with a purpose went out in this neighborhood after dusk.

  He rubbed his jaw, glaring at me. “The hell I am. Go home.”

  “No.” Blinking, he reached for my wrist, trying to grab it, but I pulled back. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Sky.”

  “I hate you, you know,” I said, my vision blurring. “I hate you so much that I love you, and that only makes me hate you even more. I know that doesn’t make sense, but to me it does.”

  He fisted his hands. “You need to get the hell out of here. It’s not safe here.”

  “I told you, I can take care of myself.”

  “I know,” he practically shouted, backing me against my car. “But that doesn’t stop me from not wanting anything to happen to you, damn it.”

  “Is that why you pushed me away?” I asked, resting my hands on his chest.

  He didn’t say anything. Just stared at my hands on him.

  “I know why you did it.” I bit down on my lip, my heart surging when I saw panic light up his green eyes. “Tate made you do it. Tate made you say those things.”

  “No one makes me do anything I don’t want to do,” he said, his voice low. “I did what I had to do, and I did it for a good reason. Now go home.”

  “What did he threaten you with?” I pressed.

  He hesitated. “It doesn’t matter. Knowing won’t change anything. It’s over.”

  “If it doesn’t change anything, then answer the question.” I took a step closer to him. He tensed. “How did Tate convince you to break up with me?”

  Something fell behind us, clattering on the pavement down the road a bit, and he turned that way, reaching for something at his side, before letting his empty hand fall. After a few seconds of searching the deepening shadows, he grabbed my elbow. “Inside. Now.”

  Without arguing, I let him lead me up to his door. The second we were inside, I started in on him again. “What did he do to you?”

  “He found one of my weaknesses and used it against me. It’s what men like him do. I’d have done the same thing if I were in his shoes.” He locked the door and leaned against it, watching me from underneath hooded eyelids. “He loves you. He’d do anything to protect you. And that’s what he did.”

  Disbelief hit me hard in the stomach. “Are you seriously defending him, after what he did to you? To me?”

  “Hell yeah, I am. He did the right thing, breaking us up.” He lifted a shoulder casually. “You’ll see it someday.”

  Rage, pure rage, crashed through me in a red tidal wave. I walked right up to him, shoving him. He didn’t budge, because he was already backed up against the door, as far away from me as he could get without leaving. “I hate you.”

  The streetlight outside his door flickered on. “So you said.”

  “You don’t even care about me at all, do you?” I pushed his shoulder again, and he grabbed my wrist, trapping it in his steely grip. Tears rolled down my cheeks unchecked. He’d done it. He’d finally made me cry. “You never cared.”

  “I care, damn it!” he shouted, a vein popping out on the side of his neck. “Why do you think I keep pushing you away? Why do you think I’m leaving you? It’s because I fucking care. I care enough to make you get gone, because you don’t want to be with me. Not really. So stop pushing me and just go.”

 
“I can’t,” I rasped.

  He made an angry sound. “Why not?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “I love you, too, damn it!” he shouted.

  Before either one of us could register what he’d literally just yelled at me, he spun me so my back was against the door and kissed me with so much pent-up passion, it was a miracle I didn’t burst into flames. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and, God help me, I never wanted to let go.

  His kiss held a desperation I’d never felt in him before. His hands roamed over me, touching every inch of skin he could, then slipping under my clothes to touch some more. He groaned, his tongue seeking and finding mine.

  When his fingers slipped inside my panties, I broke off the kiss, breathing heavily. “Scotty. Did you mean it?”

  Curling a hand behind my neck, he placed the heel of his palm against my jaw so his thumb rested on my cheek. When he locked eyes with me, there was something there, in those deep green depths, that I’d never seen before.

  “Yes.” Tenderly, he ran his thumb over my skin, making me shiver. “I love you, Sky. I love you so damn much.”

  Before I could reply, his mouth met mine again, but this time it was softer.

  My heart quickened, and I urged him closer. I arched closer to him, needing every inch of his skin against mine. Needing . . . needing . . . him.

  His mouth slanted over mine, and he picked me up.

  I broke off the kiss, gasping. “Your leg.”

  “I don’t give a damn about my leg.”

  He kissed me again, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He walked up the stairs, stumbling a few times, with his hands on my butt, supporting me, his lips never leaving mine. When we got to his room, he lowered me to the mattress gently, his body covering me carefully as he slipped between my legs like he’d never left. I buried my hands in his hair and curled my tongue around his, arching against his hardness with a desperation I couldn’t hide and didn’t want to, but underneath it all was his words.