The Lies We Tell (The Four 1)

I wrenched away from her, and from the guilt and the pain, and escaped upstairs, slamming my door behind me and flipping the lock before throwing myself on the bed.

Fuck.

My bed smelled like sex and a subtle scent of sugar and spice.

I couldn’t sleep there.

I pulled a blanket from my cupboard and slept on the floor.

EIGHTEEN

Morning. The first thing I’d done when I’d woken in the guest room, head pounding, was to check the door was unlocked. I wouldn’t have put it past Caiden to lock me in again. Thankfully, the door opened.

As the memories of last night assaulted me, I cringed. I showered as quickly as possible, and not even bothering to check my appearance, silently slipped out of the room and crept down the stairs, intent on leaving before anyone else made an appearance.

I made it to the front door without incident and reached to open it, but before I could make my escape, arms came around me, pinning me in place.

“Not so fast,” a low voice hissed in my ear. “Where do you think you’re going?”

A chill went through me at Zayde’s threatening tone, but I steeled myself.

“Let go of me. King Caiden made it clear last night that he didn’t want me here.”

His laugh somehow managed to sound dark and sinister. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re not getting away that easily. Let’s make one thing clear. I believe you’re not working with your mother, but I still don’t trust you. Trust needs to be earned.”

With that comment, he disappeared, just as silently as he’d arrived, and I was left by the door, staring after him.

I sighed. He was right, in a way. If I didn’t share this file with the Four, didn’t explain my reasoning for suspecting my mother had a hand in my father’s death, how could I expect them to just blindly trust me? They needed to see the evidence for themselves and come to their own conclusions. Mind made up, I headed towards the kitchen.

After a silent breakfast, during which only West was present, I entered the spy room, as I was calling it. The one with all the computers and camera feeds. I was in a bad mood, still pissed off about Caiden’s behaviour towards me, to be honest. I’d been worried about him last night, and I’d acted on instinct, trying to provide comfort. But as soon as I’d gone to him, he’d made it perfectly clear that sleeping with me had been a mistake.

So, as far as I was concerned, we were back to normal. Normal, meaning I’d have to ignore his hateful glares and asshole behaviour, unless a miracle somehow occurred.

Weston directed me to a large leather office chair, and I amused myself by spinning around in it while I waited for the others to turn up. My whirling trajectory was suddenly halted by Zayde, who silently appeared in the room and stopped me with a hand on the back of the chair.

I pouted at him for ruining my fun, and he gave me an amused smirk.

Taken aback by the contrast in his behaviour from earlier that morning, I gaped at him but recovered quickly. “Why, Zayde, was that an actual smile?” I raised a brow.

“From Z? Never.” Cassius strode into the room and took the other chair next to mine, and Zayde leaned against the desk, his face already back to its usual impassive mask. “Morning, babe. How’s your head?”

“Fine. Ish. More importantly, how’s yours?”

“All good, thanks. I’m touched by your concern for me.”

I laughed. “Always. I’m thinking Kins will have the worst head this morning, out of all of us.” After all the shit with Cade, I’d been pissed off and agitated enough that doing shots with Weston and Kinslee had seemed like a great idea. Kinslee had also finished up the Prosecco (which had turned out to belong to a very unimpressed Jessa), and then West had ordered an Uber for her, while I’d stumbled up to th

e guest bed, my head swimming.

The last I’d heard from Kinslee, before sleep claimed me, was a drunken rambling text saying she was back at home, and she’d had the best night ever, and then waaaay too much information on West’s dick. Thanks, Kinslee.

To be completely honest? I’d wanted to leave with her the night before, still upset about the way Caiden had acted towards me, but Weston had convinced me to stay, telling me I’d regret it if I didn’t. He’d insisted that if I wanted answers, I needed the help of the Four. In my exhausted state, I hadn’t taken much persuading.

This morning, though, I was full of doubts.

The door opened and Caiden walked in, dark circles under his eyes, avoiding my gaze. Cassius stared between the two of us, confusion all over his face, as the tension in the room ratcheted up by about a thousand notches. Of course—he’d disappeared before Cade had insulted me and stormed off.

What the fuck? Cassius mouthed at me. I shook my head at him, trying to convey to him that now wasn’t the time or the place. He heaved a heavy sigh and glanced back at Caiden.