Page 40 of Lies Beneath Secrets
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
Lauren
Con doesn’t respond to my question. Instead, he just opens up the door and leads me out toward the bar. I do my best to keep my head up while on the inside, I’m screaming.
“Stay by my side. You don’t need to talk to anyone if you don’t want to,” Con instructs as he opens the door for the both of us to walk inside. The music grows louder with the pull of the door, but the chatter inside stops as if someone has just flicked a switch. So many eyes stare our way; many of them have already seen me naked.
“Is it too late for King to just put a bullet in my head now?” I mutter, getting a cold glare from Con in return.
“Not a fucking chance,” he growls and pulls me on through the doors and over to a table. “Siena, Bottle of Ard,” he shouts and pulls out a chair for me to sit. I take a seat and slowly, the talking around the room starts back up again.
“Two glasses?” A tall and very thin woman comes to the table with a bottle of what I’m guessing Con yelled out for. She must be Siena. Her long, blond ponytail sways back and forth with the motions of her placing the glasses on the table.
“Yeah, leave the bottle,” Con tells her as she pours the amber liquid.
“In a mood tonight, I see,” she says, then looks over to me. “I’m Siena.” She gives me a warm smile. “I’m glad the clothes fit.”
“Oh, these are yours? Thank you,” I say. “I’m Lauren.”
“You must be the reason Con hasn’t come around as much.” I glance over to Con, who’s concentrating on the pour of the bottle as if he’s pretending not to hear Siena’s comment.
“Well, I couldn’t tell you if that’s true or not. Personally, I just found out this place even existed twenty-four hours ago.” Con still ignores the interaction, sliding one of the glasses across the table to me. It doesn’t have as much in it as his does. That may need to change if I’m going to get through this night.
“Communication is key to a relationship, Con,” Siena scolds playfully, then smiles at me. “If you need anything else, let me know. The other girls here aren’t as welcoming to newcomers.”I watch as she walks away. Reaching down I tug a little on the shorts I’m wearing. They cover the burn, but just barely.
“You don’t need to hide that anymore,” Con tells me before taking a sip from his glass.
“Not sure that’s a habit I can break. Piper didn’t even know about this,” I admit, realizing now that my best friend probably has no idea where I am. “Oh my gosh,” I groan.
“What?” Con asks.
“Piper, she is probably wondering where the hell I am. Has she come looking for me?” I glance up at Con. He doesn’t get a chance to answer before Knox takes a seat between us.
“That fucking friend of yours?” He grabs the bottle sitting on the table and helps himself, pouring into his own glass. “She tried to kick my ass.”
“What?” I gasp. “When?” The thought of her doing harm of any kind is out of character for her. She can’t even kill a spider. She will, however, re-home them to outside.
“She came to your apartment while I was packing up your shit,” Knox starts and gets a glare from Con.
“What do you mean, packing up my shit?” Knox looks between the two of us, then shrugs.
“I packed up some of your things and brought them to my place. It will be there when you can leave.” I shoot daggers in Con’s direction. “Which reminds me.” He reaches into his vest and takes out a picture. “Thought you would want this back.” I stare at the photo for a moment, wondering how Knox ended up with it.
“Where did you find this?” I pick it up, looking over the faces of my mother, Leah, and me.
“In your apartment.” He shrugs. I open my mouth to argue that it was never in my apartment, rather in my mother’s, until I flip it over and notice numbers scribbled on the back of it. They look long enough that they could be bank account numbers. Those were definitely not there before.
“Thank you for returning it.” I keep my gaze down and pocket the picture, doing my best not to give away how confused I am. Forcing away the curiosity of the photo I get back to the conversation we were having. “What did you tell Piper?” I ask, forgoing the words I’d like to say regarding having myshit packedand moved to Knox’s house.
“That I would have her call you when you had a chance.”
“And how am I supposed to call her? You know, now that I’m a prisoner.” I look pointedly at Con now, who’s taking another drink from his glass. He doesn’t even try to correct my statement.
“That part isn’t on me,” Knox says as he pulls something else out of the leather vest he’s wearing. It’s only then to I really look at it. Con is wearing a similar one but his doesn’t sayvicepresidenton it. I watch him for a moment as he produces a small black box. It clicks open, and he pulls out a cigar.
“Where did my phone go?” I ask Con after a beat of silence at the table.
“Not sure, but I’ll get you a new one,” he tells me and now, Knox is laughing.
