Page 81 of Ly to Me
I shrugged. “I didn’t know much about the father figure you had—” She winced in my hold, her eyes darting from mine instantly. I arched a brow and continued, “Because you never told me. But somethin’ in my gut told me, if you ever came back, you’d want them kept safe. Away from him.”
I could see the questions forming behind her beautiful brown eyes, the words about to leave her lips. It was a toss-up betweenwhyI’d do that after everything that happened, andhowI was able to see that every time ‘home’ was mentioned or the guy who lived there with her, she’d evade any further conversation.
The knob requiring a key on her bedroom door rose my suspicions the first day I met her, and what he said to me the day she left drove that theory home—
Whatever their relationship was, it hadn’t been good.
TEN YEARS AGO
“Roland? Where you at?” My fist tightened just hearing Noah as he entered my parent’s bar. On days when Lyra said she couldn’t hang out—which were few and far between so I did my best to accept it whenever she said so—I earned a few bucks cleaning up the bar. I usually liked the peace of it all, but there wouldn’t be much peace today.
“Here.” I stood and tossed my hand up from behind the bar, then reached for the rag tossed over my shoulder to clean the grime from my hands.
Noah smirked and strode to the barstools, then sat where I directed him to, right in front of me. “Prom is tomorrow,” he said, tapping his fingers rhythmically along the wooden surface. “Is that why you wanted to meet?”
“Yeah.” I finished wiping what I could from my hands and slung the towel back over my shoulder. “Time to pay up.”
His smirk faltered. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” My eyes bore into his. “I won, you lost. Time to pay up.”
“I need proof.”
My hands balled into fists, my jaw working. I knew he’d want proof, but having that proof and showing it to him were two very different things.
He grinned. “I knew you were lyin’. Can’t even—shit.” I reached into my pocket the second he opened his mouth and pulled out my proof, holding it up in the light, leaving no question as to what was on it.
Red splotches stained the white fabric, mostly torn to shreds by now. I grimaced as he stood there, eyeing it with both hunger and anger.
Sick fuck.
“Happy?” I balled Lyra’s panties back up and shoved them into my pocket, reminding myself to burn them before she could ever know what else I’d taken from her that night. She was so caught up in the moment when I’d shredded them from her body she didn’t even ask about it. Not in the moment, not when we spent time together after and not when I dropped her off later that night.
Noah leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know if that’s good enough. She could have been on her period or something and you could have just taken that from her house.”
My teeth clenched together so hard, I was sure one would chip. “You’re fucking joking.”
“Nah.”
I slid a hand down my face. “I fucked her in the truck right after the party. The bet was pretty clear—I get her to have sex with me before prom, you pay. I don’t, I pay.” His brow arched before I added, “Do you want to see the condom I fucked herwith? The packet? The truck?” Bile rose in my throat at the suggestion. I’d already crossed a fucking line just to end this with him.
Screw that. He didn’t need more proof. He needed to pay up.
He shrugged. “I dunno, maybe I need her to tell me all about it.”
Two inches. That’s how far a heavy ashtray was from my fingers as they pulsed along the wooden top. I could throw that right at his smirk and knock out a few teeth, giving me a head start on beating him to a pulp on the floor.
I think he saw my contemplation because he finally chuckled. “Fine. Okay. But I have one question before I pay.”
“Ask.”
“How tight was she? No one expected her to be a virgin, but man, looks like you hit the lotto with that one. Guess the dick-sucking stories could still—”
Noah wasn’t able to finish. I hopped over the bar and pummeled him from the stool, taking him down to the ground with a heavy thud. My fist met his face over and over as he struggled to get me away from him. With each crunch of his bones, each twinge of his muscles, each violent jerk of his body between me and the floor, some of the anger dissipated.
No, actually—
Fuck that.
