Page 147 of Tell Me Pucking Lies

Revan looks at me and nods. I follow him out the door.

“I need to take off,” he says. I glance at Lexi through the window. She’s staring at me like always.

Revan faces his back to her and whispers, “The brother’s in fucking rehab. I’m going to get him before anyone else can.”

I nod, licking my lips as Lexi rolls hers at me.

Revan pats my shoulder. “Don’t be fucking stupid.”

I smirk. “I got her.”

He smacks my cheek this time. “It’s that pretty fucking face of yours. Get her to open up.”

I meet his eyes and nod once. “I’ll get something out of her.”

He nods. He knows what I’m capable of.

He walks to the sedan and I walk back in the cabin.

Lexi’s still staring at me, and I see her swallow hard. But when she speaks, her voice is steady. “Can I have my phone?”

I shake my head slowly, deliberately. “No.”

“Why not? I’m not going to call the cops, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No,” I repeat, taking a step closer. “You’re not getting it back.”

She huffs out a frustrated breath, running her hands through her dark hair. It’s still damp from the shower she took this morning. She’s wearing leggings and an oversized Blackridge University hoodie, looking like any other college student except for the fear and fury warring in her eyes.

“What about a snack?” she tries, changing tactics. “Chips?”

I gesture toward the kitchen. “Check the cabinets.”

She narrows her eyes at me, suspicious of the easy permission, but moves toward the kitchen anyway. I follow at a distance, leaning against the doorframe to watch as she opens cabinet after cabinet. Most are empty or contain ancient canned goods.Finally, she finds something—a bag of potato chips, already opened.

“Score,” she mutters, reaching in.

I watch as she pulls out a chip and takes a bite. Her face immediately contorts in disgust.

“Ack. Stale.” She spits it into the trash bag with more force than necessary. She slams the cabinet door shut.

Then she turns and walks straight toward me, and I see the shift in her energy—fear converting into anger, helplessness into rage. It’s beautiful.

“What the hell am I doing here, Atticus?” she demands, stopping just inches from me. Close enough that I can smell her—woodsy. She used our soap. “Don’t you fuckers have classes and hockey and a real fucking life? Like what is this bullshit!”

“You come first,” I say simply.

Her eyes flash. “I am on scholarship. I can’t miss a single thing, or I lose it, and there goes my entire future! My brother already fucked up the first two days, and now this!” She pushes her plam into my chest. “I will fucking kill you if I have to.”

Arousal hits me like a freight train. The threat, the violence in her eyes, the way she’s not backing down even though she should be terrified—it’s everything I’ve been waiting for.

“Is that a threat, Lexi?” I ask, my voice dropping lower.

“It’s a promise.”

I grab her wrist—the one that’s still pointed at my chest—and slowly, deliberately, move her hand up to my throat. Her eyes widen in surprise as I wrap her fingers around my neck, applying just enough pressure that she understands what I’m offering.

Power.