Page 159 of Under the Lies

“Why?” Why did he take a liking to Noah?

The corner of Noah’s lip twitches up. “I stole from him. I remember how I didn’t even have a reason. I just saw his wallet in his jacket pocket and swiped it. There’s this thrill with getting away with something, something that you’re taught to be wrong. A high that no drug can touch. That’s what I felt when I stole his wallet.”

“What happened after?”

“He told me you can’t con a con man and slowly, he started to introduce Harlow and me into this new world.” He rolls his head with a heavy sigh. “I’ve always been bored of high society. There was nothing exciting about it. Everything was too superficial for me. Baron gave me a place to find myself.”

My eyebrow raises. “He taught you how to steal and through that you found yourself?”

Noah nods. “He gave me something to work toward. He gave me a challenge.”

I nod, still feeling lost.

“He also asked me to protect you.”

My eyes snap to his. “When?”

“The night he died.”

A slice of pain slashes my heart, remembering holding his hand as he drew his last breath.

“He made me swear to keep you safe.”

I’m a little insulted he didn’t think I could protect myself, but I know my grandfather has always seen me as a butterfly in a field of wasps.

I can’t stop myself from thinking is that why Noah agreed to protect me? Because of my grandfather? Somehow that makes the pain in my chest sting worse.

“It’s not.” Noah’s voice is low.

“What’s not?”

“I haven’t upheaved my life for the past several weeks just because of my promise.” He levels me a serious look. “I went a year ignoring it. But then you came back…you came back and I couldn’t ignore you. Even if it wasn’t for Baron or your sister leaving, I still would’ve found a way to you.”

I still would’ve found a way to you.

My breathing feels heavy, each breath tighter than the last with Noah’s admission.

I still would’ve found a way to you.

Almost hesitantly, a move so unsure for Noah, he places his hand on my knee. I stare at it, barbells pressing on my chest.

It’s too much. So when my phone goes off, I welcome the reprieve. Only to wish I hadn’t as my eyes skim over the text message.

Groaning, I toss my phone to the floor.

“What?” Noah asks.

“Hope you don’t have any plans this weekend.”

He quirks a brow, looking intrigued. He’s not going to be looking like that after I tell him the news.

“Don’t get too excited, big boy. We’re going to my parents’.”

It’s interesting watching someone’s expression change as subtly as Noah’s and know that little change has a bigger impact than he’ll reveal. “Why?” One word. Clipped and cold.

“My mother has decided to throw me a birthday party.”

And that might be more startling news than finding out my grandfather was a renowned art thief.

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