Under the Lies

by Green, Sarah E.

  Untangling from Sayer, I have this urge to do two things. Two reactions pulling me in opposite directions.

  To get my hands on Harlow like I’ve wanted to for weeks—finally she’s here in front of me, only strides separate us. It wouldn’t take much.

  But it’s the other part of me that’s holding me back. The need, the promise, to protect Sayer.

  I try to step practically in front of her. But in typical Sayer fashion, she has to be stubborn and fight me, stepping around my provided shield so we’re standing shoulder to shoulder.

  “Aw, don’t let me interrupt. This is so sweet I might throw up.” Harlow sneers at us.

  “Where have you been, Harlow?” I try to keep my temper even as I probe her for questions. I fail.

  “Oh, around.” She turns her blue, almost indigo, eyes on me. “But I got tired of waiting for you to come get me, baby, so I decided to come find you.”

  Sayer bristles at baby.

  I want to reach out, to reassure Sayer but I don’t.

  Can’t.

  Not when I have to keep my focus on Harlow.

  “You kept running when I’d get close,” I remind her. Every lead I followed was cold. She had been there but was always gone by the time I showed up.

  “I was hurt,” she pouts. “I wasn’t ready to see you yet. You replaced me with her.” Harlow casts a scalding glare at her sister. “Just like everyone else.”

  “Not Granddad,” Sayer says quietly, but confidently. “He never replaced you with me.”

  “Look who’s finally clued in.” Harlow raises a brow, coming closer. “I bet you just hate knowing that. Knowing he chose me over you. You idolized that man and he was nothing more than me.”

  No. He was better than Harlow will ever be. “He loved Sayer,” I remind her.

  “But he loved you most of all, didn’t he, Noah.” She turns that hateful stare to me. “He left you everything.”

  “Is that why you stole my ledger?”

  “It’s supposed to be mine!” she snaps, shouting. “Everything of his was supposed to be mine! I was his family! Not you.”

  “That’s not true and we both know it.” She hasn’t been able to get past this. Not since Baron gave me The Underground and all that inhabits it.

  Harlow wasn’t happy then. And she sure as hell isn’t happy now. “Where’s my ledger, Harlow?”

  She could’ve taken anything else and I wouldn’t have given a damn. But that’s why she took it. It’s the only thing I keep that could incriminate me. My friends. Sayer says I have everyone in my back pocket, but that’s only in this city.

  Everywhere else I’m fair game and depending on who Harlow showed that information to, it could send me away for a long time.

  It’s a record of all our illicit dealings, all the fencing we’ve done, all the paintings and art pieces we intend to fence. It’s a record of our trades essentially.

  And I’m going to need it back.

  “In a place where only I can find it.” She bats her eyes. “I needed to have some kind of bargaining chip with me.”

  “Some kind of bargaining chip,” I repeat, rolling my eyes. “It’s not going to make me give you The Underground.”

  What she wants goes hand in hand with the ledger. It does nothing for me to give her that. Not that I would. She could steal anything, and I still wouldn’t give her The Underground.

  Not when it’s been entrusted to me.

  “I’m not talking about that.” There’s a rogue look on Harlow’s face. A smug smile. “I’m talking about her.” She points to Sayer and before either of us can react, a bald man materializes from the trees behind us, seizing Sayer.

  His arms constrict around her, hand covering her mouth as she lets out an ear-splitting, barren tree branch-shaking scream.

  Lunging for them, my hand goes for the holster strapped along my back.

  Sayer’s wide, shaken eyes stare at me. Begging me to be smart, to not do anything rash or bold. There’s another threat with us tonight. And I know she’s right, know I should focus on Harlow, but I can’t think of anything past this fucker touching her.

  A clean, crisp click pierces the air.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Noah.” Harlow points a gun at Sayer. “Sam can just as easily snap her neck before you so much as blink.”

  I freeze. My heart throbs in trepidation. Breathing shallowly.

  There’s no doubt in my mind that Harlow wouldn’t shoot her sister, especially when she’s never seen Sayer as anything more than her rival.

  Tread carefully, Kincaid. No longer is it me or The Underground or the damn ledger I’m worried about.

  It’s her.

  My siren.

  Sayer.

  “Harlow…” I try to coax her attention to me.

  It doesn’t work.

  She keeps her gaze and the gun trained on Sayer. “She’s my leverage. Has been all along.”

  Sayer makes a muffled sound as she struggles to break free of Sam’s hold while I feel like my brain has short-circuited.

  She’s my leverage. Has been all along.

  Weights drop to the pit of my stomach.

  “What’s wrong, Noah?” Harlow taunts. “You look a little shell-shocked.”

  I glare at her. “What did you do.”

  It’s not phrased as a question.

  She clucks her tongue. “I’m disappointed. Aren’t you supposed to be one step ahead of everything? The all-seeing master?”

  My hands clench, but I don’t say anything. She hasn’t lowered the gun from Sayer. Now isn’t the time to provoke her.

  “Have I bested you?” She smirks. “You fell right into the trap.”

  Sayer continues to struggle, her aggravation muffled by the hand still covering her mouth. She stares at her sister with a look I’ve never seen grace her emotional gray eyes. Sayer is far past angry.

  “Quiet her, Sam. I’m not done talking.” Harlow taps her foot.

  Sam tightens his hold and Sayer winces, but she doesn’t give either of them the satisfaction of crying out in pain.

  “Now where was I. Oh! Right. You’re not as invincible as you think yourself to be, Noah. All I had to do was throw Sayer in your face and that’s all it took for you to revert back to when we were dating. Always watching my sister. So sick.” She spits the last word.

  My jaw clenches as events snap into place. “You went to her apartment because you knew I’d go after her to learn where you went.”

  “Ding-ding-ding, give the man a prize!” she shouts to the trees. “You became horribly predictable after that. I’m quite disappointed in you actually, Noah. I didn’t think you’d become so wrapped around my sister like you did. I thought you were better than that. Oh well.” She shrugs. “That just works better for me.”

  She was animated as she talked, relishing in the fact that she one-upped me, but now it’s like someone has flipped a switch and she’s back to being serious.

  I’m physically shaking, restraining myself the best I can.

  “Give me The Underground or I’ll shoot your darling Sayer.”

  The color of Sayer’s face washes away. Harlow’s words ring in my ears. Darling Sayer.

  More pieces click into place.

  The pictures. The text. The headstone.

  Harlow.

  Sayer comes to the same conclusion, staring at her sister with a haunted, betrayed look.

  And I’m a fucking idiot for not seeing it.

  Sayer did. She called it from the beginning back in my office.

  Fuck.

  Harlow’s been behind it all.

  Not only for putting Sayer in my path, but also for all the attacking she’s done on her sister.

  She’s been the puppeteer and we’ve been her toys on strings.

  How did I not see this…

  Because it’s fucking Harlow. Impulsive, impatient Harlow. Who’s laughing at the look on my face.

  “You underestimated the wrong person this time, Noah.” She
smiles, a chaotic, invigorating smile. “Now. The Underground.”

  “You’re not getting it.” It’s the wrong thing to say.

  “Is that so?” She cocks her head to the side. “Sam.”

  Sam grins and it actually brings a chill to my skin, only for the cold to grow as he produces a knife and brings it to Sayer’s throat. Her gray eyes look black, her pupils dilated with fright. The blade winks as he digs it into her skin. Sayer doesn’t make a sound, she doesn’t wince. The only indication that she feels anything is her eyes growing wider.

  But I feel it. I feel it deep in my bones as if it was my neck the blade touched.

  “Stop,” I bark at Harlow and that manic smile of hers grows, but she holds up a hand to Sam and his movement stops.

  Even from here I can see a thin, dark line on Sayer’s perfect neck.

  My blood boils. My fists clench. It’s taking every muscle I have not to lose myself in the rage inside me.

  And it’s not like I can do anything. Harlow still has her gun pointed at Sayer.

  Patience, I breathe icy air into my lungs. It does nothing to smother the flames rising inside me. I need to channel patience.

  “Now. Let’s try this again.” She lowers her gun, holding it like an accessory at her side.

  There’s she is. The Harlow I’ve always known. Overconfident. Cocky. She thinks she’s won.

  That she’s outmatched me.

  Harlow continues, not seeing the gears churning in my head. “You’re going to hand over The Underground and Sayer gets to walk away unscathed.” She glances at her sister, cooing. “Ooh, well. Maybe a little scathed.”

  As discreetly as I can, I press the small button on the side of my watch, sending an alert to Gabe, Reeve, and Thea’s matching watches, and hope like hell my friends get here in time. It’s a little noise, nothing more than three beeps, but we all know what it means. If it works like she designed it to, I’ll give Thea all the money she wants to design more of her little inventions.

  A grunt at my side snags my attention and my neck snaps toward it.

  Sayer digs her elbow into Sam’s gut causing him to double over in pain, but his hold on her is still tight. She moves her leg, jamming her heel into his foot before she rams the base of her palm into this nose. He hollers in pain, only for it to be amplified when her fist is brought down on his dick.

  The big, bad bald man crumples like a piece of paper.

  Sayer kicks him there for good measure before stepping over his body.

  Harlow shouts. Her gun fires.

  I don’t so much as blink before tackling Sayer to the ground. Covering her body with mine. No more harm will come to her tonight.

  Ever—if I can help it.

  “What the hell was that?” I hiss in her ear.

  “That was the SING method,” she says like it should be obvious.

  It’s not.

  “The fuck is the sing method?”

  “It’s from a movie and” —she waves a hand at Sam’s curled up body— “very effective.”

  My brow raises appreciatively. Full of surprises with my siren. “As long as you don’t use that on me.”

  “No promises—”

  Another shot rings out.

  “Excuse me!” Harlow yells, unhinged. “As gross as this banter is, I have other matters of importance to get to and I’m really getting tired of all these distractions.”

  I pick my head up while my hand reaches for my gun. Tight in my grip, I pull it out of the holster and point it at Harlow. I fire. One shot, two shots.

  Harlow retaliates and I throw my head down, shifting on top of Sayer to make sure she’s still covered. The bullet just grazes my bicep and I grit my teeth as my muscles spasm and fire shoots up my arm. Fucking hell.

  I glare at Harlow. Bitch.

  “You’re not going to win—” I cut Harlow off with a bullet to her thigh. She screams as another gun goes off. This time from behind and Harlow screams again, dropping her gun to clutch her shoulder.

  Sayer pushes me off her the same time Reeve, Gabe, and Thea break out of the trees.

  “Welcome home, bitch.” Thea lowers her gun, glaring at Harlow, who yells and charges Thea.

  They hit the ground with a hard thud.

  Reeve and Gabe step forward to break them up when a guttural moan hits my ear and snares my attention.

  Sam, who’s been on the ground, starts to get up and his eyes are locked on Sayer, who’s watching Thea wrestle her way on top of her sister and slam Harlow’s head into the ground.

  Oh no, he fucking doesn’t.

  Before he can fully stand, I tackle him to the ground. He doesn’t even have time to react before my fists wail on his face.

  I’ll get my hands on Harlow when Thea’s done. Right now is my time to get revenge on this bastard.

  Each punch is for every second he had his hands on Sayer.

  It’s not until my knuckles are split and Sam’s ugly mug is unrecognizable that a set of hands pull me off him. I swing around before realizing it’s Gabe. “I got him.”

  I nod, knowing he does, but before I can so much as take a step away, another gunshot pierces the night.

  I reach my gun and look for the threat when I see who pulled the trigger.

  Sayer.

  Sayer’s holding Harlow’s gun above her head.

  Sayer who hates guns has steady hands as she lowers it.

  “Enough,” she barks with enough authority to make everyone stop and listen. Even Thea and Harlow momentarily pause. The latter looking at her sister like she’s never heard this voice before. “It’s my birthday and this is soooo not how I planned on spending it.”

  She waves the gun around and I want to tell her to stop, to be careful. As far as I know, she’s never shot a gun before this in her entire life. The last thing we need is her shooting someone.

  Not even Harlow. Her tender heart couldn’t handle hurting her sister even given everything Harlow’s put her through.

  But that’s what makes them different.

  I’m edging my way toward her when Reeve gets there first and gently takes the gun from Sayer. He clicks the safety on.

  “Thea, get off my sister.”

  Thea’s still sitting on Harlow with her hands pinned to the dirt. She looks to me for permission when Sayer snaps her name again. This time harder, sharper. No room for arguments.

  Slowly, Thea does. Yanking Harlow to her feet as well. She doesn’t let go either. Both of them look a mess. Scratch marks and swelling on both their arms, faces, and fuck knows where else.

  Sayer marches over to Harlow. Reeve looks at me like I know what she’s about to do but I’m as stumped as he is.

  What’s she going to do?

  Sayer is the furthest thing from a fighter.

  What’s she thinking?

  Her face is carefully blank. She stops when she’s toe-to-toe with her sister. Leaning in so they’re almost touching noses, Sayer says, “You lose.”

  Harlow screeches, lunging for her sister, but Thea jerks her back. Keeping her restrained. That only makes her screech louder.

  Sayer smiles, but it’s not one that fits her face. It’s too dark, too cruel. It mirrors my own. It’s wiped away when she looks at me. “Can we go do something fun now?”

  I nod, eyes assessing her. “Get them out of here,” I tell my friends, not looking away from Sayer as I close the distance between us.

  She comes willingly into my arms, melting into my side.

  “You always had a flair for the dramatics, Har.” Reeve shakes his head, reaching into his back pocket to produce a pair of handcuffs. “Never knew when to shut up.”

  “You’re one to talk, rocket man.” Harlow makes a sound in the back of her throat.

  “I’m rubber and you’re glue whatever you say…”

  “Reeve,” Gabe snaps from where he’s snapping another pair of handcuffs on Sam. “Knock it off.”

  He glares. “Your wish is my command.” There’s a hardness
I’ve never heard Reeve use with Gabe.

  “Don’t touch me with those!” Harlow struggles as Reeve tries to cuff her. “I don’t know where they’ve been.”

  Undeterred and with the help of Thea, Reeve is able to slap them on. Tightening to the point of Harlow hissing in pain and her skin is discolored around them.

  “Well, isn’t it lucky then, you now have all this time to listen as I tell you.”

  Harlow snarls at him. Reeve blows her a kiss.

  Behind me Gabe sighs, sounding as exasperated as I feel.

  I look at Thea. “Looks like your gadget worked.”

  Thea grins. Soaking up the praise. “Got here just in time to save your ass.”

  “Easy now,” I warn.

  At another time I’ll tell her she can create anything she wants. Right now we have other things to take care of.

  “Where are we taking them?” Gabe asks, pushing a hobbling Sam forward.

  “The Underground.”

  They all nod, knowing where to go from there.

  And as I’m standing with Sayer at her parents’ lake watching my friends lead her sister and Sam away, it almost doesn’t feel possible.

  For weeks I’ve been hunting Harlow and now that she’s here her reckoning has finally come.

  Tomorrow morning, as the sun rises, we deal with Harlow but tonight…tonight belongs to me and Sayer.

  Once they’re out of sight, I pull away from Sayer, holding her at arm’s length. She’s still staring at the path that her sister disappeared down.

  “Sayer.”

  Painfully slow, she looks at me. I see the energy and adrenaline drain from her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” My eyes hone in the mark left behind from the knife. Gently, I trace it.

  “Take me home, Noah.”

  I hold out my hand waiting for her to take it. There’s a tightness in my chest that only loosens when her small hand slips into mine.

  Sayer wakes up before me the next morning and I find her standing under the shower, steam covering the mirrors, filling the room. When we got home last night, she stripped out of her clothes and crawled into bed. Both her cat and I stood in the doorway and watched her until he turned that feline gaze to me and meowed. Like he was telling me to fix it.

  If I knew how, I would. But I didn’t. Instead, I stripped out of my clothes and crawled into bed beside her, not even complaining as Pan followed. I hated that he slept on the bed. His white hair got all over my sheets, his kneading nails have destroyed the silk fabric. But how could I kick him off tonight as he fitted himself on Sayer’s other side, snuggled in close? We both wanted the same thing.