Savage Little Lies (Court Legacy 2)

“Basically nothing of note.” Wolf captured my attention, frowning. “I don’t know what your grandfather is doing, but we couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. He and his new name seem to be on the up-and-up.”

Squeaky clean, which was in itself very telling.

“What about Sloane and her brother?” I asked, surprised by my initial reaction. I managed to contain everything inside me, my anger, my rage wrapped all up in a tight little box. Noa Sloane had crossed my thoughts more than once.

Enough where my runs hadn’t just been in the mornings with my parents.

I’d sweated that shit out, nightly for what felt like a solid week, and even then, rogue thoughts lingered. Her poison had embedded deep, but I managed to keep my shit together.

I managed to not do something stupid.

I kept it all on lock, good at that, and coming out of my head, I noticed my buddies. They’d gotten real quiet, and Thatcher and Wells diverted their attention to Wolf. He had offered to look into the Sloane situation for me.

“Wolf?” I questioned. “What did you find out?”

Again, I surprised myself. My voice was level, even.

Bracing his arms, my buddy leaned forward and a silver chain hung from around his neck. I hadn’t seen the thing in years, something he’d gotten as a kid. He said his parents had given it to him.

The bottom of the emblem grazed the table, Wolf wetting his lips. “Didn’t find anything off about her either. Her brother?” He placed a hand on the table. “I kept an eye on them both. Even set up a camera outside their house.”

“And?”

“Normal shit. They do normal shit. Sloane goes to school. Her brother at home.” He raised a hand. “He even seems to be sick. They had some doctor come over for him the other day. Had Thatch run the guy’s plates.”

Thatcher pulled thick fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Guy works in pediatrics. Some doctor who runs a private practice upstate.”

“What about her parents?” My jaw tightened. “Her connection to my grandfather?”

“Thatch looked into that.” Wells patted Thatch’s arm. “Her dad’s name is Godfrey Sloane. He was on your grandfather’s payroll before your gramps went to prison. Worked for one of his factories.”

“He’s deceased,” Thatcher confirmed. “Found his death certificate. Marilyn Sloane, Sloane and Bru’s mom, too. She died in—”

“A home break-in.”

Thatcher looked at me. The room did. Thatcher nodded. “Yeah.” He frowned. “How did you know?”

I knew what she’d told me. I knew the facts, but what I didn’t know were the lies.

I had a feeling they stacked.

Her backstory only supported that, a girl with nothing, her and her brother…

Trash.

That had been Wolf’s word for her once upon

a time, but then, I’d had no reason to have thoughts about it. I’d been neutral in that regard. Noa had only been the girl in the way back then.

Not a device my grandfather was using.

Her place in this town didn’t make sense, a rogue piece, and I didn’t like rogue fucking variables.

“She came over to my house.”

The room’s attention shifted back to Thatcher after what he said. He grunted. “The little bitch weaseled her way into my house. Got close to my family.”

“The fuck?” I sat up. “Why? How?”