by Becca Steele
“There you are,” he greeted us. “You boys having fun? Enjoying everything the club has to offer?” He gave me a smarmy wink, clapping me on the back.
“Yeah. It’s not what I expected,” I said honestly.
“In what way?” Paul eyed me.
“Strippers? Drugs?”
“Listen, boys. This is our world. We work hard for our money, and at the weekends we play the role of family men. Here…we can blow off steam. Relax. Have our whims catered to. Network. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“So you’re playing at being a father, are you?” Cass gave Paul a hard look.
“Son, you know I didn’t mean it like that. You, and Lena, and your mother…you’re important to me. We’re family. I can’t speak for everyone, though…” He trailed off with a shrug and a twist of his mouth.
“Okay. Good,” Cass muttered, looking down at the floor.
“Drinks.” My father clapped his hands. “Come into the bar—I’ve reserved us a table.”
We sat in a large booth for the next hour, making small talk. My father spoke briefly about a construction contract they were trying to win, and Paul discussed the troubles Alstone Holdings was having with one of their building suppliers. I filed away every bit of information, even if it didn’t seem important—as I knew my boys would, too.
Michael, Zayde’s dad, joined us after a while and asked if we wanted in on the next poker game. Just over an hour later, me and Cass had both folded, West and the two other guys we were playing with were out, and Z had a pile of chips in front of him and a triumphant gleam in his eye. Fuck knows why I bothered playing poker against him. He had the best poker face I’d ever seen, bar none, and no tells—none that I’d ever noticed, anyway.
Michael had left us to play and gone back to the booth where my dad and Paul were sitting, joined by another three of my father’s friends and colleagues. As our game came to an end, I noticed all of them rise from their booth and head through the same door we’d been through earlier. I glanced at Cass, and he gave me a slight nod, and we left the table and followed them through the door.
Keeping back, we headed down the corridor, only to see the men disappear through the door at the very end—the door with the beefy security guy now scowling at me and Cass.
“What do we do?” Cass hissed through the side of his mouth.
“Wing it” was my reply, and we strode towards the door.
THIRTY
I’d been working on my assignment for the past hour and a half, the need to finish my semester with good grades driving me to carry on, even though it was the last thing I felt like doing. It was getting late, and I still hadn’t heard anything from any of the Four. I knew, or I hoped, at least, that West would message me with an update, even if Caiden didn’t want to hear from me.
Kinslee wandered in, dressed in fleecy pyjamas and fluffy slippers, and came to a stop next to me, leaning on my desk. “How are you still going? It’s so late.”
“I just want to get this finished before I turn my computer off.”
“Fair enough.” She picked up the little crystal ball with a 3D model of the solar system suspended inside, that I kept on my desk. “This is cute. What is it?”
I glanced up, a sad smile on my face. “That was my dad’s. It’s the solar system. He used it as a paperweight in his office.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful.” She bit her lip, placing the crystal ball carefully back down.
“It’s okay. I like to talk about him. I don’t have anyone to talk to about him, really.”
“I’m always happy to listen, if you want to talk.” Squeezing my shoulder, she leaned across my desk to the wall. “Were these your dad’s, too?” She pointed at the collection of star charts and constellations I’d tacked up.
“Yeah. I told you he was an astrophysicist, right? He had loads of this stuff. At home, his study was covered in these posters. These are just the ones they sent me from his work office.”
“Oh, okay.” She leaned even closer, tapping her finger on one of the posters. “Huh. I never knew that was a constellation.”
“What?” I was only half paying attention as I tried to finish the paragraph I’d been typing.
“Argo Navis. I never knew it was a constellation. Did you know that the Argo Navis was Jason and the Argonauts’ ship? You know, from Greek myths?”
“No idea,” I murmured.
“It’s funny. My brother worked down at the docks last summer, loading and unloading cargo. One of the cargo ships was actually called the Argo Navis, can you believe it?” She laughed. “Someone must have really been into their Greek mythology.”
I swear a lightning bolt hit me.
“What did you say?” I gasped.
“Which bit? The ship?”
“No. This can’t be!” My hands shaking, I picked up my phone and opened Weston’s app, scrolling to the little safe icon which linked to our secure storage.
It seemed to take forever for the scanned image of my dad’s notes to load, but when it did, it was blatantly obvious.
AR(letter missing)O (letter missing)AVIS. TUES NIGHTS.
Argo Navis.
“Kins, I’ve got to go. I’ll be back. Uh, later. Or tomorrow, I guess.”
“Are you okay?” She eyed me with concern.
“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Just got to see the Four.” I saved my work and closed my laptop lid with a bang, swiped my bag from the floor, stuffing my phone inside, and rushed out of the room. I paused to grab Caiden’s hoodie and a beanie hat, pulling them both on, then flew out of the building and into the car park.
Sitting in my car, I sent the same message to all the Four.
Me: It might not be Arlo Davis. I think it could be ARGO NAVIS. A boat at the docks. I’m going there to check it out now. Will let you know what I find.
Text sent, I switched to my maps app and set a course for Alstone Docks.
We reached the security guy. His scowl deepened as he stared us down, slightly shorter than me and Cass, but built like a brick shithouse.
“Can I help you boys?”
“You need to let us through. My father is in there, and it’s imperative that I speak with him, right now,” Cassius tried.
He stared at us, unimpressed. “Sorry, no can do.”
“Don’t you know who I am?” I cringed inside as the words came out of my mouth. “I’m Caiden Cavendish, son of Arlo Cavendish, your employer. I don’t think he’d be happy that you kept us from him, would he?”
“I know who you are. I’m under orders. No one gets through this door, not without the explicit permission of Mr. Cavendish, Drummond, or Lowry. You can take it up with them later, but you ain’t getting through tonight.”
“Let us through.” Cassius’ tone was low and deadly, and I stared at him in surprise.
“Do we have a problem?” The guard pulled out his radio and pressed the button to speak into it.
“No, no problem. Come on, Cass.” I dragged him away from the smirking security guy. When we were out of earshot, I turned to him. “We’re wasting our time. Let’s get out of here.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Maybe check that entrance around the back, to see if we can find another way in. We might need Weston’s expertise.”
He narrowed his eyes, thinking, then sighed. “Yeah, guess so. Let’s get the boys and go.”
We reached the main room, and Zayde and Weston stood when they saw us, pushing back their chairs and nodding a goodbye to the guys at their table. We exited into the night air and back to the car.
“What do we do now?” West asked once we were all inside the car, twisting in his seat to look at me and Zayde in the back seats.
“Fuck!”
Weston’s head flew round at Cassius’ urgent shout. “Fuck!” he shouted again. “Fucking Winter!” He slammed the steering wheel, and my stomach flipped.
“We need to get to the docks, right now. Our girl could be in trouble.” He started the en
gine and threw the SUV into gear, peeling out of the parking lot.
“What’s going on? What’s wrong with Winter?” Weston’s voice was panicked.
“Phone,” he grunted, concentrating on navigating his huge SUV through the narrow street we were driving down, high stone walls on either side of us. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned it on, while Weston reached over to the centre console to grab Cass’ phone.
Snowflake.
No. She’d fucked me over.
My voice echoed around the silent car. “Wait a minute, mate. Some asshole sent me video evidence of her kissing Granville earlier.”
“Fuck you, Caiden,” West snarled, and I recoiled at his tone. “I don’t wanna hear it. Stop with your trust issues or whatever shit you have going on in your head. Z, you too, for that matter. Our girl is in trouble. Do you want to be responsible for anything happening to her?”
Zayde and I looked at each other.
Fuck.
Screw the video.
She was my girl.
I needed to fucking remind her of that fact.
I prayed that we weren’t too late.
THIRTY-ONE
Pulling my hood over my head, I climbed out of the car, closing the door softly behind me. I’d parked a way down the road from the docks, and my very rough thrown-together plan was to scope out the area and see if I could find this boat. As for anything past that—I’d have to wing it when I got there.
The entire docks area was surrounded by high fencing, and the side I was approaching from had a row of shipping containers stacked up next to the fence, and I could see the tops of several large cranes behind them.
I wiped my palms on my jeans, tucked my phone safely into my back pocket, and inched closer. In front of me I could see the entryway. There was an electronically operated barrier with a white painted guard hut next to it, and a camera mounted on the hut. I could see the silhouette of a man inside the hut, but it was quiet other than that.
Edging around the corner, I jumped back as a pair of headlights swung towards me—a truck, leaving the docks. The driver lowered his window to speak to the guard, and I took my chance. I ducked under the barrier, around the back of the truck and across the small expanse of open ground to a long, squat building that looked like some kind of warehouse. It was silent, locked up, so I ignored it for the time being, instead using it for cover.
I noted the cameras on high stalks, and the floodlights illuminating the area, but as luck would have it, there didn’t appear to be anything pointing in my direction. There didn’t appear to be anyone else around, either. I saw two large boats, stacked up with containers, but neither one had the right name. Where was this ship? Had I been wrong in my theory? Maybe the wording actually was Arlo Davis.
No. I was here. I needed to know for sure.
Hugging the wall, I inched around the corner, and there it was.
Jackpot. A small cargo ship bobbed in the water, off to the side of the main docks, in its own berth. The words Argo Navis jumped out at me, in faded white lettering on the black hull.
I watched, frozen in place, as three figures emerged from the boat and entered a large stone building on the edge of the dock. The structure itself was in complete disrepair—the roof looked to be in danger of collapsing, the windows were boarded up, and the brickwork was crumbling.
I remained where I was, no cover between the wall I was hiding behind and the stone building.
I waited. And waited.
Eventually, the figures emerged and returned to the boat. I watched, my heart sinking, as it pulled away from the docks and headed out to sea, soon becoming a distant speck.
What should I do?
I was here—I should at least check the building that the people from the ship had spent so long in.
Tucking my hair into my hood, I made a dash for the building and slipped in through the cracked wooden door that hung partly off the hinges.
It was so dark inside.
With shaking hands, I pulled my phone from my pocket and switched on the tiny flashlight, then swung the light around me to illuminate the space. There was a corridor up ahead, and shining the torch on the ground, I could see boot imprints in the dusty wooden floor, showing me where the people had gone. I shone the torch all around me and noticed a light switch on the wall, but I didn’t dare turn it on, just in case.
I hated the dark.
My breathing was loud in the silence, and the only thought running through my mind was that I should have waited for the Four. I should never have come here on my own. But it was too late to turn back now. I had to find out what was in here.
Slowly, hugging the wall, I made my way down the corridor, the old wooden floorboards creaking underfoot.
I heard a shuffling noise behind me and swung the torch round wildly, my heart in my throat. My light caught a set of eyes in its beam.
A rat. It scampered away, and I sagged against the wall, my heart beating out of my chest. When I felt I could continue, I shone the torch on the floor, following the footprints, and noticed the corridor ended at a solid metal door. I was almost there.
I stumbled along towards the door, keeping one hand on the wall as I went, the stone cold and rough under my fingers.
Creak.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice shaky, my heart hammering and every hair on my body standing on end.
Creak.
A sudden “whoosh.”
A loud crack as something struck my head.
Then.
Every.
Thing.
Went.
Black.
TO BE CONTINUED…
That’s it…for now…
Thank you so much for reading The Lies We Tell! Sorry, but not really, for the cliffhanger-type ending. The continuation of Winter and Caiden’s story will be coming soon, and you can add it to your TBR here. Feel free to send me any and all abuse/love/comments, and reviews are always very appreciated!
Acknowledgments
First of all, thank you for reading The Lies We Tell. It means a lot to me, and I really appreciate it. I took a chance with this book - it was completely unplanned and unexpected. I was supposed to be writing something else, but Winter, Caiden and the rest of the Four got inside my head AND WOULD NOT SHUT UP. I was completely consumed by them. And that leads me onto my next thanks…
Thank you to Jenny. There is no way this book would exist without you. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, even though you corrupted me and you try to steal my book boyfriends. Thank you for believing in Winter and Caiden’s story. You, Claudia and Chris not only had to read my incredibly rough first draft, but have had to put up with an unreal amount of self-doubt and fear from me with this book. I can apologise for the 5000th time, or I can just say, hopefully I will be less neurotic with book 2. Maybe. Fingers crossed! As well as all the emotional support, thank you for everything you’ve done for this book, too many things to even count. I’m beyond grateful! I suppose it’s only right that Z is yours ;)
Thank you to my work wife Claudia, aka The Cocklector. Where would I be without our daily arguments? Thank you for pushing me to do better, and for always being in my corner. Except when we’re arguing. Love you!
I never thought I’d be thanking my husband in this way, but yet, here I am! Thank you for being surprisingly enthusiastic about this book, and brainstorming plot lines with me during long car journeys. Thanks for reading all the words, even if you did insist on reading whole passages out loud and putting on random (and completely horrendous) accents for each character, and I forgive you for calling Cade “an angry cunt”. Even though I know it was said out of jealousy, because you wish you were more like him. (Haha jk. Or am I?)
Thank you to my amazing betas - Beck, Stef, Amanda and Alley. Your comments and support helped me turn this from a rough story to a finished book. I love you 3000!
A massive thank you goes to the amazing women in my street team. I seriously cannot thank you enough for
everything you do. I appreciate it so, so much.
Thanks to my editor, Sandra, for giving me the tough love I needed to make this story stronger - as usual you were right! And to Jeanette, my cover designer - how you always manage to come up with the perfect cover after my nonsensical, completely basic ideas, never fails to blow me away.
Finally, thank you to the bloggers, bookstagrammers, authors, and readers that I’ve been lucky enough to come to know. Thank you for everything you share, every comment, mention, conversation, kind words…it all means so much to me. And my BBB girls (love you all, thank you for making our group a happy escape from the world), and the Chaddettes, thank you for the daily laughs and encouragement.
If you read all this, THANK YOU!
Becca xoxo
P.S. To the people I’ve invariably missed, you have my permission to throw tomatoes at me.
Also by Becca Steele
London Suits Series
The Deal
The Truce
The Offer (coming soon)
The Wish (free short festive story)
The Four Series
The Lies We Tell
Book 2 (coming soon)
Book 3 (coming soon)
About the Author
Becca Steele is a contemporary romance author from the south of England, where she lives with her husband, two kids, and various animals.
When she's not writing, you can find her reading or watching Netflix, usually with a glass of wine in hand.
