The Lies That Define Us (Us 2)

“I know.” Talia smiled forlornly. “But one step at a time, remember? The first step is finding a more permanent place for you to stay.”

I nodded. I understood what she was saying, and as much as I was afraid that I might not be able to trust them, I was more afraid of being out on the streets alone. Accepting their help was a safer bet than winging it on my own. I had to remind myself that not everyone was like him. There were good people in the world, and I was going to trust my gut with these two.

After all, I had nothing to lose.

Liam

“I have something for you.”

“Ollie,” I groaned into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “It’s six-fucking-am. What could you possibly have that’s so important?”

“Just get your ass out of bed and over here.”

I turned to my stomach and buried my face into the pillow. “Can this wait?”

“No.”

“Fine.” I hung up the phone and grumpily tossed it to the floor.

I rolled out of bed and strolled to the attached bathroom. I turned the shower on, hoping it would aid in waking me. I’d only been asleep a few hours when Ollie called.

I was used to him calling me at crazy hours to come see something crazy he’d found or made, but he’d never said he had something for me. To say my curiosity was piqued was an understatement.

I showered quickly and dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. I pulled on a black beanie to cover my damp hair.

Ollie’s place was only about twenty minutes from my place, but when I parked in the driveway he was already waiting outside with an impatient scowl.

“What took you so long?” he asked before my feet even touched the ground.

“Dude, I got here as fast as I could. Chill.”

He shook his head and started toward the door. I trailed behind and followed him inside.

“So, what is it you have for me?”

He pointed. I looked up and over to where he indicated. I froze, my hands fisting at my sides as I took in the beautiful woman standing in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. Her dark brown hair hung in wild waves down her back and her eyes were the bluest I’d ever see—like the Mediterranean. Her lips were a lush pink color and plump but not in a fake way. A thin tank top molded to the swells of her breasts, and her hips flared out. A tiny pair of shorts barely covered her ass.

She might’ve been beautiful, but I wasn’t going there.

I turned to glare at my friend. “What the hell, Ollie? This again? I know you think I need to get laid, but I don’t need a fucking prostitute to do it!”

“Prostitute?” the woman gasped, and the sounds of her bare feet pounding against the floor met my ears.

Suddenly, a sharp sting buzzed against my cheek and my jaw throbbed.

I looked to find that the woman was now in front of me, her whole body shaking with anger.

“I am not a prostitute,” she said firmly.

I looked her up and down, taking in her tiny frame. She couldn’t have been much more than five feet.

“You’re awfully feisty,” I commented.

“And you’re rude.”

Ollie snickered and began to slow clap. “Liam, I think you’ve met your match.”

I snorted and glared down at her. “Not likely.”