Page 1 of Savage Truth

CHAPTER ONE

RILEY

Cole Savage is a class-A MVP.A most valuable prick. AblackmailingMVP.

I stormed into the Savages’ house, slammed the slider with extra force, flipped the lock, and left the big jerk outside. No one had been there when I met my uncle in the backyard—I’d made sure of it. So how Cole knew I was on the patio was the question. It was as if he had a GPS stuck to my ass.

Of all the guys Mom could date—and I say that liberally because real relationships weren’t a thing with our way of life—it had to be Cole’s dad. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Hell would freeze over before I would believe that whole thing was legit.

Mom and I ran cons to survive, never hitting the same town twice—except for Santa Monica, California, where Lucas Savage lived. And since Mom had insisted I move into their dumb house with her and her boyfriend, there I was. What should’ve happened was a con with Lucas as her mark while I extracted pertinent information from his sons, Cole and Damon.

Cole was a nightmare. a drool-worthy fantasy with broad shoulders, a washboard stomach, and a face that could grace magazines and the big screen. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was still a pain in my ass.

I grabbed handfuls of my hair and tugged, trying to calm down in their gourmet kitchen, which by itself was bigger than most of the places we’d lived. He made me so mad. No one, and I mean no one, had ever caught Mom or me with my uncle, and there was very important reason for that. Cole had information on me that could be my ultimate downfall—Mom’s too.

He has a name. But even uncle Ronan’s first name would have been enough for someone to find out who he was. It wouldn’t take long to tie Mom and me to him then learn our given last names and where we came from, despite our various aliases muddying the waters.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the foreboding sense that even though Mom planned to give us everything we’d never had via her relationship with Lucas, it would inevitably blow up in our faces.

Cole and I played a cat-and-mouse game of blackmail, and for the first time since we’d started, I was worried. But I knew Cole wanted me to be.

I couldn’t dwell on what-ifs. I would find a way to turn the tables. I made a detour to the laundry room, where I dumped my warm clothes from the dryer into a laundry basket then took it upstairs to fold and put away. I refused to look out any of the back windows in case Cole was stuck out there. I hoped he was.

I popped my bedroom door open with a hip check and stopped short. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Cole sprawled across my luxurious queen-sized bed, wearing that wicked smirk that I’d come to associate with him being up to no good. He looked too damn good, and I didn’t trust myself with him.

I dropped the basket of clean clothes near my dresser, staying five feet from the bed and him. If looks could kill, he would have been dead. I crossed my arms over my chest, leaned a hip against the dresser, and waited for him to talk or, even better, leave.

“I’m not going anywhere until we get a few things straight.” His green eyes flashed with determination, and a muscle jumped along his strong jaw. “You’ve got nothing on me, but—”

“Not true.” I straightened, my arms dropping to my sides. I resisted forming fists as I attempted to bluff my way out of whatever nightmare he had planned. “I have a video of you participating in an illegal underground fight, which I bet the Hidden Valley Academy—and especially Thane University—would be interested in seeing.”

Cole was a senior, like me, and a star tight end on the academy’s team, and I knew he had a scholarship to play at Thane. He didn’t need the money because his dad was loaded, but I’d overheard him and the other elite assholes talking about needing scholarships. There must have been a reason, and I was pretty sure it was because Cole and his brother, Damon, hated their father.

There was no way they hated him more than I hated mine.

We all had our issues, and the less he knew about me, the better. I just had to keep him unbalanced, which I found rather difficult.

“You’ve got nothing, Riley. Remember, I was in your room not too long ago when you were sleeping. I hacked your phone and destroyed the video. It’s a good thing you sleep like the dead.”

“Only sometimes.” That had been an alarmingly off night.

“There weren’t any traces of it saved elsewhere. Not your computer, not a hidden flash drive.”

I narrowed my eyes. He was right, but I had no intention of letting him know that. I’d watched the video several times before he’d gotten to it. He fought with animalistic abandon, each punch calculated and so very powerful. It sent a thrill racing through me. If only we were on the same team, then maybe…No.I couldn’t let my mind go there. The only team that made sense was Mom, Uncle Ronan, and me. The way it always had been and would be.

He flexed his abs beneath his too-tight T-shirt, distracting me for a moment, then smoothly rolled to his feet. His superior athleticism showed in everything from the cut of his muscles and broad shoulders to his rock-hard chest and tapered waist. I didn’t understand how someone well over six feet tall and built like a brick wall could move so quietly. It was disturbing and a little frightening. I raised my chin. I wasn’t scared of him.

He was nothing like what Mom and I had dealt with in the past. Cole was child’s play, or so I kept reminding myself.

“You better be sure of that because the repercussions of that video…” I left my statement hanging. He was right. I had nothing since he erased it, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

“I’m sure.” He smirked then advanced. “Soon, I’ll know what you’re hiding, and then I’ll go to Dad, and he’ll kick you both out the front door.”

Heat flashed, and the gold in his eyes turned molten. “Unless”—his gaze dropped to my lips before meeting my eyes again—“you agree to my terms.”

I moved forward, his intoxicating spicy, oceanic scent luring me to touch him. I resisted, but barely. “You don’t have anything. So what? I talked with someone I call my uncle. He might be related. He might not be.”

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