Page 40 of Web of Lies

Kyle lets out a long sigh, like he's tired of explaining. "While I understand that, morally and by society standards, what I'm doing is bad. What my mother is doing is bad. But this is normal for me. I grew up believing that you shouldn't waste anything. Nothing. Even if it's a human."

His words echo in my head, hollow and twisted. My stomach knots, the bile rising as I search his face for even a flicker of remorse.

"Have you ever killed a woman?" I ask, my voice quieter this time, afraid of the answer.

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, and I flinch at the sound. "No, I refuse to target women and children."

The firm, assertive way he says it sends a chill down my spine. I know it shouldn't, but it puts me at ease knowing he holds onto at least some moral values. However, there is one nagging question at the back of my mind that I can't shake, and I need an answer.

"Have you ever eaten human meat?" I look up at him, who remains silent with his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes dart around as if searching his mind for an answer. "Don't lie. Just tell the truth."

He leans forward with a heavy sigh. "I have." My eyes widen, and my lips part as if to speak, but he stops me. "It was just one time. I was a curious sixteen-year-old and asked my mom to taste it. I never ate it again."

I nod as the puzzle pieces of his side of the story fall into place, forming a picture I can now label and identify.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know?" He asks, pulling me out of my thoughts and drawing my gaze to him.

"Would you ever have told me what you do?"

"Eventually." His lips twitch into a lopsided smile. "But you know… It's not exactly dinner-table conversation." He leans back into the sofa, and I roll my eyes at his comment, the familiar ease of his jokes temporarily lifting the pressure of the situation.

"I think I can work with that to figure out my thoughts," I say, turning my eyes back to Dumpster.

"What about you?" he eventually asks.

"Me?" I perk up, my eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yes, I've been honest with you, so now it's your turn. Why are you working for a city agency?"

"Technically, I'm not officially working for them."

"Then?" His brows knit together in confusion, deep lines creasing his forehead.

"Five years ago, I received a tip about a secret department within the city government. It seemed like an easy way to make money on the dark web by selling information. I teamed up with other hackers. We cracked their system, but they caught us."

"Who are they?"

"The head of the operation is named Jackson Philips." Upon hearing the name, Kyle's eyes widen with a flicker of recognition. "Do you know him?"

"Fleeting. He's not around much, but his name occasionally comes up and appears in papers with bets, like at the harbor fights."

"Well, as you can see, he doesn't have a clean record himself. But he's staying out of trouble by handing in other criminals."

"But how did you end up working for him?"

"I offered my services to stay out of prison. Their cybersecurity was weak; it was a walk in the park to hack into their system. And they accepted, but they wanted me to do a test to prove myself."

"So, that test was the Butcher?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of?" he echoes.

"Not directly. I was supposed to infiltrate Hunt Corp.

and gather information because they assumed the company had some.

When I found nothing, I was instructed to stay and continue searching.

Along the way, I got sidetracked by forming friendships with other employees, and I lost—" I freeze mid-sentence, eyes widening as my memory catches up.

"Oh my God, my laptop." My hands fly to my face as panic sets in, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"All of Hunt's data is still at the office. I left it there."

"Easy," Kyle says, scooting closer and placing his hand on my thigh. The warmth of his touch soothes the tension in my muscles. "Does anyone know your laptop is still there?"

"No," I say, shooting him a look filled with both confusion and relief.

"Could anyone get to it and steal it?"

"No, not unless they're part of the IT department."

"Good. Then we'll grab it first thing in the morning.

" He gives my thigh a reassuring squeeze, and the warmth of his touch sends a shiver straight through me.

My heart rate slows. I take a deep breath and slump back onto the sofa, bringing my hand up to rake it through my tangled hair.

My eyes stay locked on Kyle's calm presence.

Heat creeps up my neck and spreads to my cheeks.

In the middle of this mess, Kyle somehow makes everything feel under control.

How can he be this calm, this solid, this protective when I'm the one who's supposed to be threatening him?

He carefully scoots across the sofa toward me, and I don't flinch. "Riley, I meant what I said all along. I want to help you, and I want to make things right."

"I don't know if you can," I whisper.

"I'll try anyway," he says. "Because, no secret, no lie, will ever push me away, you hear me? You can hide whatever you want, spin whatever web you need. I'd rather be tangled up in this mess with you, caught in our lies, our games, than lose you."

He brings a hand up to my face and brushes a damp strand of hair behind my ear, his rough fingertips brushing across my smooth cheek. "Riley, I love you. I really do."

My heart leaps against my rib cage. But this time, it's not from anger.

It's from the overwhelming ache, the craving to love him.

"I love you, too." The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them.

He blinks, but his lips twitch into a subtle smile.

Before he can say anything, though, I shake my head.

"That doesn't mean it's okay. This isn't easy.

" His smile falters. "I still don't know what to do with this, Kyle.

" My voice falters again. "You scare the hell out of me.

Not because I think you'll hurt me, but because everything I thought I knew just exploded.

" I press my hand against his chest, right over his heart.

"We lied to each other. Over and over. All of this is built on lies. "

He leans closer, his forehead resting against mine. "Then let's build something new from here. With the truth. Even if it's ugly."

My fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt as I grip it. I don't know how a rat and the Butcher could end up being anything other than a tragedy, or what kind of future we could have. Yet, he's sitting in front of me, willing to give it a try. "I'm scared," I admit.

"I know," he says, wrapping his arms around me.

Cocking his head to the side, his lips brush against mine, hesitant as if he is asking for permission.

My eyelids flutter shut in the lingering haze of the ; every brush of his skin against mine sets off a fiery need to feel his solid frame nestled against mine.

The familiar scent of mint mixed with tobacco and weed floods my senses, pulling me closer to him, into the familiar comfort of his presence.

My chest heaves against his, and one of his hands wraps around the nape of my neck.

I tilt my chin up and meet him halfway, pressing my lips to his.

My body moves on instinct, arms sliding around his neck, fingers tangling in his short hair. Kyle's hands grip my back, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us.

This kiss feels different from any we’ve shared before. It’s full of emotion and all the things we haven’t said and can’t say. It’s soft yet full of need, fear, and longing, as if this is the only thing keeping us from falling apart.