Page 36 of Web of Lies

Kyle

The door to my parents' house falls shut behind me as my phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket.

I pull it out and flip it up, and the screen lights up.

I'm expecting a message from Riley asking when I'll be home.

But when I read the name of the sender, my brows furrow.

Chloé. I haven't heard from her in well over a year.

So, what does she want now, all of a sudden?

I thought she had already found a replacement.

Or maybe the guy at the club was just a short-term affair.

I tap the message, and our old chat history opens.

At the view of the image she sent me, my eyes widen and my heart rate spikes.

It's Riley strapped to a chair. Her beautiful copper hair is messy and grimy, sticking to her skin as if she's been sweating or crying—or both.

Chloé is standing beside her with a bright smile on her face.

Right after, a second message pops up with Chloé's live location. Then, a third message follows.

Chloé: I think this stray belongs to you. Come pick her up.

My chest heaves, and my vision blurs with fury as my pulse quickens. My heart slams against my ribs, and my grip on the phone tightens until my knuckles turn white. If she dares to touch a single hair on Riley's head, I will—no, I shut the thought down before it spirals. I need to stay focused.

My gaze falls first on Noah's bike, which is parked in our parents' garage, and then on my car, which is parked in the driveway. The decision is easy. Screw the car.

I dash over to Noah's bike, grab his leather jacket and gloves from the hook on the wall, and put them on.

Then, I slip on the helmet and swing my leg over the bike.

The engine beneath me roars to life. I hit the gas, gunning the engine, and speed out of the driveway, tires squealing on the pavement.

The door to the shabby apartment flies open, the wood splintering as I kick it down. Stepping inside, I'm greeted by the sight of Riley, still tied to the same chair as in the photo. Her eyes widen the moment she sees me. First, her face twists in fear; then, a flicker of hope lights up her eyes.

"Riley, I'm here. Everything's okay."

Her lips open, about to say something. "Ky—"

"Kyle." The familiar, cheerful female voice of the person who sent me the message interrupts her. The sound of heels clicking on wood rushes toward me, and seconds later, a pair of slender arms wrap around my neck. Chloé presses her body close against mine and clings to me like a koala to a tree.

"Chloé," I say, my voice dropping an octave and adopting a more threatening tone.

I shift my gaze from Riley to the man a few feet away.

He's wearing a loose black shirt and a bulletproof vest with holstered guns.

His face is hidden behind a red Purge mask, which Chloé prefers to use to hide the identity of her newest boy toy.

"Let go of me," I say through gritted teeth.

"But I missed you so much," she says, pursing her lips into a pout. Though reluctant, she releases me but places her hands flat on my chest.

"Too bad, because I didn't miss you." I glare down at her.

"Ouch," she says with a mocking chuckle, then pulls back.

"Care to explain what's going on here?" I keep my eyes on Chloé as she walks back toward Riley, holding out her hand while the man nearby hands her a gun.

"I—" Riley tries to speak, but Chloé cuts her off again.

"Well, I was hired to find that little beauty, and when I found out she's your new girlfriend, I got excited and wanted to meet her. So, I took her out for a chat," Chloé says with a playful giggle, pressing the cold barrel of the gun to Riley's temple.

Riley shuts her eyes and clenches her teeth, trying to pull away from the barrel. But Chloé follows her.

"Please don't kill me," Riley begs.

"She won't. Everything is okay," I say, narrowing my eyes at Chloé, who looks at me with a fake, innocent smile. Riley's eyes flutter open, and our gazes meet. She looks at me pleadingly as tears gather in the corners of her eyes.

"Kyle, please," she chokes out.

"I know, Baby. It's going to be okay." I say, taking a step forward and directing my attention back to Chloé. "Let her go."

"But I'm not done having fun with you two yet." Her lips purse into a pout as she looks back and forth between us.

"Chloé, stop playing." My tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth. "Why are you doing this?"

"At first, I didn't want to take the job. Sure, I’m the best at making people disappear, but one of Hunt’s girls? Uh-uh," she says, brushing a strand of Riley's hair behind her ear. "But then I saw you at the club with her and recognized her. I got so jealous that I had to do it."

Riley tilts her head up to look at Chloé. "You're doing all this because of Kyle?"

"Yes, because it gave me a chance to talk to him again." Chloé shoots Riley a smile. "Say, Kyle, you haven't told her the truth, have you?" Chloé asks, her voice sweet yet taunting. "She doesn't know, does she?" My jaw tightens, and my fingers curl into fists at my sides.

"That's none of your business." I grit out.

"To a certain extent, it is now." Chloé's eyes sparkle, clearly enjoying her control of the situation.

"Come on, tell her. She deserves to know every reason, and it's not like she wouldn't figure it out on her own one day.

" Riley looks back and forth between us, furrowing her brows as confusion crosses her face, replacing her fear.

She tilts her head and looks up at Chloé. "What are you talking about?"

Chloé raises an eyebrow, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

"You're not the only one with secrets, Riley.

Kyle got some, too," she says with a chuckle.

"The kind of secrets that might make you wish you'd never met him.

" Chloé shoots Riley a wicked smile before turning to walk away, her voice quieter and more mocking as she moves toward me.

"Tell her who you really are." I remain silent, looking back and forth between Chloé and Riley.

"What is she talking about, Kyle?" Riley asks as her eyes lock with mine.

"Come on, Kyle," Chloé taunts while Riley's eyes burn into me, her confusion morphing back into fear. I need to say something—anything—to make this stop and take back control.

"Enough!" I shout, the words bursting from my throat like a violent storm.

"You coward," Chloé snorts.

"Kyle, what is she talking about?" I look back at her but remain silent, which fuels her irritation. "Kyle, tell me what is going on," she says, raising her voice.

"Yes, come on, Kyle. Tell her," Chloé chimes in again.

Their voices blur into static noise, overlapping and piling on top of each other until it swallows me.

Sweat beads on the back of my neck and slides down my spine.

My hands twitch at my sides, my fingers clenching and unclenching in search of something to hold on to.

It feels like claws are tearing me open, searching for answers.

The room tilts, and the floor whirls beneath me, and all I want is silence—just one second of quiet.

"I'm the Butcher," I snap, my voice bouncing off the old brick walls. "Happy now?"

Riley's eyes widen in horror. She stares at me as if I had just ripped the floor out from under her. Her chest rises and falls frantically as panic crosses her face. "You're?" Her voice cracks, each word rough with emotion.

"Yes. I am!" I shout again, my voice hoarse with frustration.

"No, no, no." The word tumbles from her mouth again and again, like a broken mantra. She shakes her head violently, her copper hair falling across her face. "You can’t be. Not you." Her voice cracks on the last word.

Chloé suddenly bursts into thunderous laughter, clapping her hands with glee as if this were the funniest joke she had ever heard.

My attention snaps to her when she jumps toward me, but the crack in my mind tears further.

Unable to stop myself, I reach out, lock my hand around her throat, and slam her back against the wall.

She gasps, her hands flying up to claw at my wrist while the man in the mask steps forward.

"No," she chokes out, shooting him a glare, and he falls back into position.

"You trained him well," I spit, and a grin spreads across her face.

"A man will do a lot if you let him use your throat however he wants." Her mouth falls open, and I spot the dark bruise at the back of her throat.

Of course. It's always the same with her.

She wants to be used and, in return, makes men carry out her hits so she doesn't have to get her hands dirty.

It's a twisted power game that neither she nor the men can win.

As soon as she proposed the deal to me, I was out.

I don't do other people's dirty work. I wanted to save her, but she's too far gone in her scheme, and all hope is lost. With every deal she closes, she digs her own grave deeper, and the day will come when it all comes back to haunt her.

My grip on her throat tightens. Her face flushes red, and her eyes bulge as tears stream down her cheeks. Perhaps killing her right now would be best. Put her out of her misery once and for all.

"Stop." Riley's voice echoes through the room, and my gaze shifts to her, but I don't ease my grip on Chloé.

"No. She hurt you, and I won't let anyone hurt the person I love," I bark.