Page 24 of Sharp Lies

Fury burned through me at the thought, and I glared at him through the glass, not caring whether he could see me or not. What the hell was he doing showing up here so late, and how did he think he had the right? And beyond that, how did he think he had the right to stare through my own fucking door, right at me? This wasn’t his house. It was my mother’s house.

And if he thought he was going to get in here and shout at me or something, he had another think coming.

I opened the door ready for a fight, but Tony had evidently decided to start in sweet mode, now that he’d found where I lived.

“There you are,” he said, smiling gently. “Why did it take you so long to open the door?”

“I was trying to figure out who would come around so late at night and whether I needed to be worried about them,” I said, letting the suspicion show through in my tone. “I was hoping it was a Girl Scout selling cookies.”

Instead of taking the pretty obvious hint, Tony slid through the door—without an invitation—and slipped an arm around me. “I have something even sweeter than cookies,” he murmured.

It was all I could do to keep from gagging. Sure, sweet Tony was better than angry Tony, but hadn’t I already told him I wasn’t interested in having anything to do with him?

I shrugged his arm off and put some space between us. “I’m not actually in the mood for anything sweet, Tony. What do you want? It’s late, and my mom’s already in bed. I’m planning on going to bed myself, so I suggest you make this quick.”

A shadow crossed his face, but he banished it and smiled that disgusting, smarmy smile again. “Bed, is it? I just got here, but I guess I could be persuaded.”

Oh. My. Goodness. I was going to have to kill him.

“I don’t mean for you to come with me,” I clarified. “Now did you have something to say or did you just come here to try to flirt with me?”

His face turned from sweet to angry so fast that I almost missed the crossover. One moment he was looking at me like I was a piece of candy he’d just come across in the street, and the next he was so furious that steam was practically coming out of his ears. I took three more steps back, already knowing where that face was going to take me, but he was bigger and faster than I was, and he moved more quickly. Within seconds, he had me pinned against the wall and was towering over me, the fury on his face burning into me.

“What’s with the attitude, Lily? Anyone would think you weren’t happy to see me or something.”

I wasn’t happy to see him. But I also didn’t think this was the right time to tell him so. Instead, I opened up my mouth and said the least argumentative thing I could think of. “I just want to know why you’re here, Tony. It’s late, and this house isn’t exactly on your drive home.”

He reached a hand up and brushed his fingertips lightly along my cheek, then held the hand up menacingly. “It still doesn’t sound like you’re too happy to see me, baby. Do I have to remind you how lucky you are when I’m being nice? Maybe it’s been too long since you really appreciated how quickly the tables can turn on you.”

Everything around me froze at his words, and the thing he was talking about—that temper—came rushing back into my mind. I remembered the last night I’d spent in his house and what he’d done to me. Hell, I could feel my head bashing back against the cupboard as he snarled at me.

Panic rushed through my veins, and I screamed right in his face.

He reared back and was definitely about to hit me in earnest when there was a crash that had nothing to do with us. My eyes shot to the right, and I saw the front door flying open, splinters coming off the door jamb where it had been ripped apart. And seconds later, Warren came rushing into the entryway, his face a mask of fury and his hands already up and at the ready.

CHAPTER 12

LILY

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“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT all about?” Warren asked, watching as Tony stormed out of the house and stalked toward his car.

I was so busy staring at Warren and trying to figure out what had just happened that I missed his question.

“Lily?” he asked, turning toward me. “What was that all about?”

Oh. Right. “He’s my ex,” I stuttered. “He... He used to hit me.”

I hadn’t meant to say even that much. I’d just meant to say that Tony was here bothering me. Anything more than that was none of Warren’s business, honestly. I didn’t even know this guy. I hadn’t even thought he knew my name. What did he care what Tony was doing in my house?

But with that one line, the dam broke loose, and suddenly I found myself telling him everything. The way Tony had wooed me and then convinced me to move into his house. Most of all, the fact that I’d been so charmed and so in love with him that I’d ignored, for the most part, all the warning signs. I’d taken his temper with a grain of salt, telling myself that he was just passionate. I’d discounted the broken mirrors and smashed cups and forced myself to ignore the tears I’d cried in the bathroom after he left for work nearly every morning. I told him how hard I’d worked to live with the way I felt every day, the confusion I’d experienced as the man I thought I loved hurt me day after day.

I told him that I hadn’t thought I deserved the life he was giving me but that I didn’t know how to get back out of it once I was in it.

And by the time I was done, Warren was looking at me like he didn’t understand half of what I’d said... but that he was willing to believe all of it because I’d said it.

“What are you doing here anyhow?” I asked, sniffing back the tears and trying to change the subject. I didn’t know this man and couldn’t figure out why I’d felt the need to tell him some of my most personal secrets. I didn’t know what he’d do with that information. I certainly didn’t know if I could trust him.