Page 113 of The Lies We Tell

“Where are you at?”

She glances up at someone off-screen, but her eyes assess whoever it is coolly. “I’m staying at a friend’s place.”

“A guy friend?”

Her smile is enigmatic. Like the Mona Lisa where you’re never quite sure. “A none-of-your-business friend. Anyway, how’s the trip? Ready to come home?”

My sister wouldn’t stick around wherever she is if she wasn’t happy. It was one of her guiding principles after getting away from Dad. She was never going to stay anywhere or with anyone that caused her pain or brought her anything other than joy.

I turn the camera to face the garden and the sun. “Going to be hard to leave this, but I’m ready.”

There’s silence for a moment. “Gardens really are the most amazing thing. You can take the most barren piece of land, something that looks so sad and unhappy, and with a little tender loving care, turn it into something so beautiful.”

There’s so much truth to her words. “Just wanted to share it with you. Are you good?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

But there’s something about the way she saysgoodthat makes me wonder.

“You wanna talk?” I ask.

“And make you miss one of your last moments in paradise? No. I’m fine. And remember, I know you’re going to face some difficulties when you get back, fitting back in with the club. But know you have my blessing, for what it’s worth.”

Her words catch me off guard. “Yeah?”

“I know how much it means to you. And there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you to be happy.”

“Thanks, Raester. I love you. You need me, call, yeah?”

“I love you too.” And with that, she ends the call, and I go get Rose her juice.

Because Rae is wrong. Paradise isn’t a place.

I grab the juice and walk back into the room. Briar is sitting up with her back to the headboard, her tablet and pencil in hand.

Paradise is anywhere she is.

EPILOGUE TWO

“Thanks, Raester, I love you. You need me, call, yeah?”

Saint’s voice grates on my last nerve, but Rae convinces him she’s fine, and they hang up.

She looks up at me with a face so filled with grace, I want to choke her. How dare she look at me with guileless blue eyes like I matter to her.

Eyes so like her brother’s, I want to carve them out.

She sure as fuck doesn’t matter to me.

She’s a tool for control. I no longer need to point a gun at her head. There is no misunderstanding between us. If Saint realizes I have her before he walks back into my clubhouse, he dies.

So does she.

“Good girl,” I say without thinking. And I see the light flicker on in her eyes.

A week I’ve had her.

A week since I made the trip to Michigan with Niro and a van.