Page 88 of Under the Lies

Blood streaked face, he grins at me, still looking a little dazed, before twisting around in a roar.

Thomas is too busy doing a victory dance for the crowd to notice Noah, but he sure as heck notices him when his body gets tackled to the ground by a two-hundred-pound seething Kincaid.

Noah straddles the other man’s body, punching once, twice. That’s it. That’s all it takes.

Playtime is over, Noah’s had enough.

Now it’s Thomas’s turn to not move. The sight of him sprawled out on the bloody, sweaty ground does nothing but bring dark satisfaction to me.

Noah climbs off him, snarling, “It’s over.”

He stalks out of the ring, much to the chagrin of the audience who groan and shout for him to get his ass back in there.

Noah doesn’t listen.

He hops over the fence next to me and pulls us away from the hoarding masses.

“Move!” he roars, shaking the building as much as the banging had.

People instantly part, his red sea moving with his command, and he pulls me through the crowd, into a door Reeve opens for us.

This man and his doors to hidden places.

We’re in a poorly lit hallway when he lets go of my arm, only to get in my face.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” he yells, even though we’re mere inches apart.

I cross my arms. “Thea invited me.”

“Did she tell you where you’d be going?”

I shake my head.

“And you decided what? To tag along on an adventure?” His hands pin themselves to the wall on either side of my head.

His anger grates against my skin. This man. I swear one minute he has me worried about him and in the next he has me wanting to rip his head off.

“You mean instead of staying locked in your penthouse with no form of entertainment, slowly going bored to the point of insanity?” I push at his sweaty chest. “Sorry, that’s not how I wanted to spend my night!”

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“And where do you want me, Noah? I feel like if it were up to you, I wouldn’t be allowed to leave your penthouse.”

“It’s for your safety,” he growls. “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

“To protect me!” My voice rises. “Not to keep me as your prisoner.”

“I never said you weren’t allowed to leave. Come and go as you please.” He crowds me. “You’re not my prisoner, Sayer.”

“Then what am I? Why am I staying at your apartment if you’re never there?”

“Why’d you throw that party tonight?” he counters, avoiding my question.

“Thea threw it.”

“You didn’t stop it.”

“No.” I agreed to it.

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