Page 35 of The Lies We Tell

“That’s a deep question and requires way more whiskey than I’ve drunk today,” King says, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. “You cool coming on the ride?”

I nod, knowing our conversation is over, as King stands to leave his office. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

At ten o’clock, Spark, King, and Kieran—one of the prospects—and I hit the road. It’s cool for early October, and I’ve layered up beneath my leather. We wind our way south of the Lehigh River, and the properties begin to space out a little.

We park a block or so from our final target and leave Kieran watching the bikes. He knows to call if he sees trouble.

“You doing okay?” I ask Spark quietly as I straighten my skull cap.

He glances ahead to King, then turns to me. “He and I had words before we left. He’s overstepping.”

“Is this about Iris?”

Spark shoves his hands into his pockets. “We got her into this mess. I can’t ... fuck. I can’t just leave her to the wolves.”

King is getting farther ahead of us, and I slow our pace. “If whatever is going on between the two of you is bringing you peace, you should cling to it.”

Spark shrugs. “Or I should do what my president asks and get over it. I’m taking a long ride when we’re done here. See if I can’t clear my head.”

King waits until we reach him, cutting off another conversation today.

“Which one is the truck registered to?” Spark whispers as if he wasn’t just confiding in me.

Our conversation is forgotten.

“Number forty-eight.” King tips his chin up the hill. It’s late and dark. The house looks deserted but the black truck sits in the driveway. I feel a wave of revulsion seeing it again, wishing I had been able to convince Briar to report it to the police. The windows have been replaced, but there’s a bullet hole in the hood.

Briar could identify the truckandthe man who owns it.

Anger pulses through me, even as I see Spark place a tracker beneath the wheel arch. Fucker deserves some explosives set to detonate when he turns the engine on.

It’s the first time I’ve ever considered using what I know to kill instead of save, and the feeling is ... heady. Maybe my redemption arc is going in reverse.

I head around back with King. Wrought iron bars cover every opening.

“Guess they don’t want uninvited guests,” I say.

King gestures to the outbuilding, an old wooden shed, but there’s nothing of note inside when I check it out.

“Nothing,” I whisper.

“We should get out of here,” King says.

We walk back to the bikes, where King tugs Spark into a fierce hug. “Ride well, brother.”

Spark nods and climbs on his bike.

As his lights disappear, King runs his hand over the front of his bike. “Hope the road breaks the hold the Irish chick has over him. Let’s ride.”

My president is telling us to leave. My ATF boss doesn’t even want me to be here.

But as I mount my bike, I vow that I’m going to get revenge for Briar and for every woman who may have come before.

13

BRIAR

Ithought I’d sleep easier here, in the safety of Saint’s house. After our trip to the apartment, I couldn’t imagine staying anywhere else. And when he lifted me into his arms and made me come against the wall, I thought ... shit, I don’t know what I thought. It’s all muddled.