Page 83 of Under the Lies

“Everyone out!” he roars, moving to the speakers and shutting off the music.

I trail after him, not leaving the doorway of the laundry room as people make a mad rush to leave the apartment, wanting to get away from Noah’s wrath.

“Except you three.” He points to Thea, Reeve, and Gabe. “Don’t fucking move.”

Thea and Gabe stop walking.

Reeve wraps an arm around Gabe’s shoulders smiling. “We’re in trouble,” he mock-whispers into Gabe’s ear.

Gabe doesn’t react.

It takes three trips and Noah packing the elevator past the capacity limit to get all the party guests out, but when they are, Noah takes inventory of his littered apartment.

He toes an empty champagne bottle, that sharp jaw jumping as he kicks it to Gabe, who stops it like a soccer ball.

Noah walks to the couch and thumbs the paint that’s dotted the cushion. His thumb comes back with red paint.

He cuts Reeve a nasty look. “You’re paying for this.”

Reeve shrugs, uncaring.

When he finds a bra hanging from a lamp, he picks it up with two fingers. His eyes flick to me, down my chest.

I glare as I cross my arms over my chest. Yeah, I’m stilling wearing one, perv.

The bra falls to the floor.

“Clean this shit up,” he barks at the four of us, stomping across the room to the elevator.

“Where are you going?” I call out, displeasure rising. He’s leaving? Again?

“Out.”

Out. I don’t like that word. “Stay,” I counter, moving toward him, but he shakes his head, the doors starting to close.

And he doesn’t stop them.

I glare, leaning into the anger that’s pumping my veins instead of the little crack in my chest that stings with the knowledge he just left me. Again.

Once he’s gone and it’s the four of us, I expect them to leave as well, leaving me to clean up a mess I didn’t help create, and I’m not proven wrong.

Gabe’s phone dings with a text. Without looking up from the screen, he says, “Let’s go.”

Thea and Reeve fall into step as Gabe walks to the elevator.

“Uh, no.” I step in front of them. “You’re not leaving me here to take care of this by myself.” The three share a look and some kind of silent communication happens before me.

“No,” Gabe says sternly while looking down at Thea, who’s doing a weird dance.

“Oh yes,” she nods.

“This won’t end well, Thea,” Gabe warns.

“Which is exactly why you should let her do it, G,” Reeve interjects. “Keep our boy on his toes.”

“What are you three talking about?” I ask the three of them, feeling out of the loop.

Gabe sighs, the sound defeated, as he motions for Thea to explain.

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