The Lies We Tell (The Four 1)

“West! That better not be my phone!”

He held up a hand. “One second…okay, done.” He threw the phone down on the bed. “You should be thanking me. You didn’t even have a password on there. I installed my app on it—it’ll give you all sorts of security options now.” His smile dimmed, his voice turning serious. “You can never be too careful around here.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, still not sure if I could trust him or not, but deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Um. I see. Thanks, then.”

“I put all our numbers into your contacts list, too. You can message me whenever you want.” He gave me a cheeky wink, and I couldn’t help smiling.

“Maybe I will.” I grabbed my phone from the bed, and he jumped up, taking my bag. Together, we made our way downstairs through the silent house and out the front door, where Cassius’ SUV was waiting, Caiden in the front passenger seat, sunglasses on, so I couldn’t make out the expression on his face.

“Where is everyone, anyway?”

Weston turned to me. “Think your mum and my dad must still be asleep. Dad gives the staff the morning off after parties so they don’t accidentally disturb anyone. Z didn’t come back after he dropped Lena off, so I guess he’s at home.” He shrugged, brushing it off, but I noticed the tense set of his jaw.

“Oh. Okay.” I stepped closer and threw my arms around his neck, overcome with a sudden feeling of protectiveness and gratitude for him. Taken by surprise he stumbled but then steadied himself and hugged me back tightly, burying his face in my neck.

“Thanks, West,” I mumbled into his hair. “As far as stepbrothers go, you’re really not that bad.”

He laughed, then squeezed me and kissed my cheek. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now get in the car so we can get breakfast. I’m starving and I need a bacon sandwich.”

“Bacon? Mmm, me too.” I climbed into the back of the SUV next to Cassius, who was leaning against the window, groaning, and Weston hopped in the front and started the engine.

The car rolled away from the house, and I closed my eyes, letting Post Malone’s lazy, laconic vocals wash over me as “Goodbyes” played softly through the speakers. Caiden and Weston talked in low tones, while Cassius slipped into sleep.

Eventually I felt the car slow to a stop, and the engine turned off. I trailed the boys into their house, notic

ing Zayde’s black bike next to Caiden’s R8, a shiny red helmet propped on the seat. The combination of fresh air and the shower had me feeling slightly more human, and I sat at the dining table watching as Weston and Zayde, who had appeared as soon as we turned up, fried eggs and grilled bacon for everyone. Cassius sat across from me, leaning his head on his arms, and Caiden sat at the island, talking to the boys, every now and then stifling a yawn. The memory of his lips on mine played on my mind, and I shifted in my seat. I’d never been kissed like that before. Fuck, I wanted to kiss him again, despite the small matter of him being an entitled asshole who hated me. One problem, though—he’d been drunk last night. I wondered what had happened to him after he’d left me and Cass. He didn’t seem that hungover, only tired, but who knew.

Weston slid a plate under my nose, temporarily distracting me from Caiden. Oh. Yes. The smell of the bacon, the perfectly cooked egg, HP sauce oozing out the sides, all sitting snugly between two slices of thick, soft bread—perfection in a sandwich. I took a huge bite and moaned in appreciation, blissful flavours exploding on my tongue.

We all ate silently, the food accompanied by huge mugs of tea and coffee courtesy of Zayde. He might not say much, but he was bloody good in the kitchen.

Unfortunately, his cooking skills came with a downside. I tried to avoid his icy stare as I ate. If looks could kill, I’d be dead and buried by now. And actually… I eyed my almost empty mug of coffee with suspicion… I wouldn’t put it past him to try and fuck with my brunch in some way. I sighed. Well, if he’d poisoned me or something, it was too late now.

As we finished up the food and Weston loaded the dishwasher, I glanced at Cassius, who was looking less green. “Feeling better, Cass?”

“Yeah.” He smiled at me and stood, his chair scraping across the tiled floor. “I’m having a shower, then we all need to discuss things.” He gave me a pointed glance, and our conversation from last night came back to me. My mother. The investigation.

Time to get to the bottom of what was going on with the Four.

FOURTEEN

Caiden, Zayde, and I assembled in the huge lounge area to wait for Cassius, Weston heading off to check in with some online contact he had while we were waiting. I settled on the huge, squashy sofa, at the opposite end to Caiden, facing the biggest TV screen I’d ever seen in someone’s house, and Zayde flopped into a reclining armchair to the side of us, picking up a game controller and turning on the TV. He threw another to Caiden, and soon they were engrossed in some kind of shooting game.

“We need some fresh air in here.” Zayde paused the game, screwing up his nose, and walked over to the window, opening it. I shivered and pulled my thin cardigan tighter around me as a cool breeze blew in, a chill coming over me.

“Cold?” Caiden murmured, close to my ear. My head whipped around, and he was right there. How and when did he get so close?

“A bit,” I managed to whisper, staring at his lips as the kiss filled my mind for the hundredth time.

“Here.” He pulled off his thick black hoodie and handed it to me, leaving him in a tight slate-grey T-shirt that stretched across his muscles in the best way.

My heart rate picked up, and my mouth went dry. Somehow, I managed to mumble “thanks” and pulled the hoodie over my head, snuggling into it. It was still warm from his body heat, with a faint ocean scent, and I sighed in appreciation.

“Why are you being nice to me?” I leaned closer as Zayde resumed the game.

He gave a heavy sigh, his eyes flicking between me and the TV screen. “Z, I’m out,” he announced, pressing some buttons on his controller, and the split-screen view on the TV was replaced with a single screen. Turning to face me fully, he stared at me, frowning and biting his lip uncertainly. “Fuck,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. “Look. I don’t like or trust you as far as I could throw you. That should be fucking obvious, even to someone like you. But I’m not a complete asshole.”

I arched a brow at him, and he gave me a small wry smile. “Most of the time, anyway. You were cold, so I gave you something to keep warm. Don’t read anything into it.” His face turned serious. “I mean that. Don’t.”