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Liam rolled his lips into his mouth, a habit Kai had too. “Trouble isn’t a bad thing”—he leaned back—“when doneright.”
I kept my smile firmly affixed to my face, my voice a low hum. “And is there a right way to murder someone?”
And there it was. I had knockedbig ol’Liamoff his pedestal. His jaw tightened, and he glanced at Kai. A look that spoke volumes. I won this little war game of his.
“Enough of all that.” Kai laughed nervously, breaking the tension. “Why don’t we order something?”
“Yeah, why don’t we?” I said with a hollow cheer.
Liam continued to glare at me, but, at least, now it had respect. The moves I made must have been the right ones. I didn’t think this man’s approval was easy to earn.
Did I even care about his approval?I thought. But one glance at the tension between Kai and Liam said I had to. Liam was in charge—in some way. I had seen the look on Kai’s face on my brother Andrew’s. It was a glassy, nervous stare that shifted this way and that. Kai cared about Liam’s opinion as much as Andrew cared about mine as his older sister.
“What’s good here at Hotel Santora?” Liam asked, browsing the menu.
“You should try the oysters or the fish,” I offered, not looking up from the menu.
Liam snorted. “Do you know the shit people put in our oceans?” he joked. But the humor of it was lost. There was only one thing I thought he might be implying—bodies.
Suddenly, that stupid childhood rhyme about our pier made sense.
When you study the water, you may see things there. Two glassy eyes stuck in a stare.The rhyme played in my ears. Kids used to sing it at school, keeping a beat with a jump rope.Child o’child, avoid what lurks, or forever be haunted by the dead man’s curse.
I pushed past the discomfort, happy as the waiter came over, offering today’s special and the gaudy wine, which we all declined. Instead, a round of beers and appetizers were placed in front of us.
“So, are you close with your family?” Liam asked, taking a bite of a fried mozzarella. Oil dribbled on his lips.
“Are you?” I countered, on guard. Talking about my family wasn’t something I enjoyed doing. I barely wanted Kai to know my last name, let alone the asshole across from me. “Kai and you aren’t blood related, no?”
Liam smirked. “No, although I bet he wishes we were.”
Kai rolled his eyes, chewing on a fry. “We grew up together in the same neighborhood.”
“We also work together. I don’t know if Kai told you,” Liam said with a cough as Kai—not covertly—jabbed him from under the table.
“Do you, now?” I asked. “And what do you do forwork?”
“Yeah, Kai. What is it that we do?” Liam asked, a taunting expression on his features.
“Construction,” Kai muttered. But there was something I was missing. The back and forth between the two held a mountain of secrets Kai didn’t want me in on. Plus, Liam was dead set on making me run for the hills.
I waited for the lies to continue. Whatever one they had concocted to hide the truth. But neither of them elaborated more than a single word. I doubted people who knew how to hide the bodies of murdered pricks had ‘normal’ and upstanding jobs.
I nibbled on the salty fries. Food was something I didn’t find joy in anymore. The saltiness kept me awake, but the beer was what I wanted. That kept me calm. “So, construction? Is that how you learned how to hide dead bodies?” I asked.
Liam’s eyes widened, and Kai choked on his beer.
I suffocated a giggle as the two panicked, glancing around again.
“Discretion is a must here at Hotel Santora. The architecture is made where you can’t make out the words from the other tables,” I whispered. I darted my eyes back and forth, leaning forward. “That is, unless you talk loudly and draw attention to yourselves.”
Liam studied me before turning to Kai. “Alright, I like her. She can stay.” He laughed.
“Glad I’m approved.” I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t need it, though.”
“Ah, but you do,” Liam said, taking the last drop of his bottle.
“And why would that be?” I folded my hands in front of me, keeping my expression calm and level. I hated this person my parents had formed me into. This manipulative shell of a person. I didn’t want to verbally spar. I didn’t want to deal with assholes. I wanted freedom and something real.
