Liar (Madison Kate #2)(7)

I started to protest, but... fuck.

"That's what I figured." Archer was pure fucking condescension. "Zane didn't get to where he is without learning a thing or two about how to manipulate people."

I huffed, not responding as I stared out of my window. But Archer was feeling chatty, apparently.

"And what exactly have we been lying to you about, Madison Kate?" he continued.

Not: We haven't been lying to you. No, he was asking what I thought they'd been lying about. Sneaky bastard.

I rolled my eyes, not interested in playing his game. "Omission is still lying, Archer, and you damn well know it. Until you three start coming clean about what the fuck is going on, you're on my shit list."

He shrugged. "Maybe I like it there."

Dickhead.

"Good, then that's where you can stay."

The rest of the drive was in silence, but after Archer parked us inside the garage and hit his remote to close the garage doors, I had a moment of weakness.

"Where did you get your knife from?" I asked before either of us stepped out of the car. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he froze with his hand on the door handle. "The red butterfly blade you showed me after Bree's party."

"The one you accused me of stabbing you with?" he asked, an edge of bitter disappointment coloring his tone. "The police swabbed it, you know. There was no evidence of your DNA."

I bit my lip. I knew that... but it was hard to reconcile with what I'd seen. "They told me," I admitted. "But that guy, the one who stabbed me, he had the same knife. You have to admit that's more than a coincidence."

"No, he didn't," Archer disagreed. "Those blades are handmade, each one unique. It may have looked similar to mine, but it wasn't the same."

"Oh." My heart sank. It was the one clue I had, the only thing that might point at who wanted me dead. But that made sense as to why Zane had a similar one too.

Archer sighed, scrubbing a hand over the thick stubble on his cheeks. He looked like he hadn't bothered to shave in weeks, and his face was discolored with healing bruises. He'd look like shit if I wasn't still so inexplicably attracted to him.

"It's not a coincidence, though," he said eventually. "You're right on that part."

Hope flared. "So, is it a clue?"

Archer's mouth twisted in a grimace. "Yes and no. The guy who made those knives, he only gave them away as gifts. They weren't for sale, and they had to be earned. But he's dead now, so he can't tell us who he gifted with a red blade similar to mine."

My shoulders sank with disappointment. "Who was he, then?"

It seemed like an odd thing to give to people as a gift, and what did Archer mean that they had to be earned?

Archer shot me a quick look. "My grandfather, Percival D'Ath."

He pushed his door open while I sat there a bit shocked, so I scrambled to follow, slamming my door shut behind me.

"Wait up, Archer!" My voice echoed through the silent garage, and he paused. "See, this is exactly what I'm talking about! You drop little fucking crumbs of information like that and then clam up. It's goddamn infuriating, and I've had enough." He turned around to face me just in time to catch a shove from my open palms in the center of his chest.

The mocking tilt to his lips only stoked my anger hotter.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about that, Princess Danvers?" he challenged, taking a step closer into my personal space and forcing me to crane my neck to meet his gaze. Fucker had almost a foot on me when I was in flats. I'd need to start wearing heels again just to try and even the playing field a bit.

I narrowed my eyes, but really... What was I going to do? Torture him for information?

"I'm not telling you shit, Madison Kate," he continued, in that low, menacing voice, "because I don't fucking trust you. You're not one of us; you're just a liability."

His words hurt. More than they should have.

But I'd walk over broken glass before I let him know he'd affected me, so I tightened my jaw and lifted my chin to meet his eyes with a little more confidence. Bravado. Whatever.

"Then why were you so fucking desperate to bring me back here, Archer?"

His lips hitched in a sneer. "Because I'm fucking sick of seeing Kody mope around like a kicked puppy. Do me a solid favor, Madison Kate, and go fuck him stupid. Then maybe he can get you out of his system and get back to business."

Ouch. Every word cut like a razor.

Still, I gave a throaty, mocking laugh. "You think it'd be that easy, Archer? You think one fuck and he'd be over me?" I snapped my fingers. "Just like that, huh?"

Archer's handsome face turned colder than I'd even thought possible, and his next words hung in the air long after he was gone.

"It sure worked for Steele."





After collecting all the splintered shards of my emotions from the garage floor, I silently made my way up to my bedroom. I didn't want to run into anyone. Not Kody, not goddamn fucking Archer, and most definitely not Steele.

Had Archer been full of shit? Or was Steele really over me already? I shouldn't care either way. In fact, it'd make my life a hell of a lot easier if he was no longer interested in exploring that crackling, electric attraction between us. It had just been a one night stand. Cool. Happened all the time, right?