Taking Him (Lies We Tell) Read Free

hell was she?
    Abruptly he caught sight of a woman in an armchair in one corner of the bar. She wore some kind of tight-fitting black jumpsuit that looked like it had come from one of the fetish clubs around the corner, a silver belt circling her narrow waist and a couple of gun holsters strapped to her thighs. The neckline of the jumpsuit nearly went to her belly button, leaving bare a quantity of very white skin. She was holding a fake gun, the muzzle pointed very definitely at him.
    Hunter narrowed his gaze at the woman. Her small, precise features were lost under a metric ton of mascara and heavy black eyeliner, but they looked sort of familiar. Her eyes were the most startling shade of green rather than misty gray and her hair was black rather than red but…
    Jesus Christ. It was Ellie.
    She’d always been a bit way out there with her dress sense, going for a Goth girl look, but even with the tartan minis and tight black jeans she favoured, she never showed much in the way of skin. Unlike now.
    Fuck. What the hell was she doing wearing that? He didn’t like it. Not one bit. He wasn’t one to get judgmental about women’s clothing, but Ellie Fox wasn’t really a woman. She was Vin’s sister. Vin’s little sister. And Vin’s little sister shouldn’t be wearing an outfit more appropriate to a bondage club than a city bar.
    He started toward her, making his way through the crowd to the corner where she sat watching him, a decidedly pissed-off look on her face. Probably because she resented him coming to get her. Too bad. He’d never left her alone to fend for herself, not once. He wasn’t about to start now.
    “There you are.” Hunter came to a stop behind the empty chair facing her. “I didn’t recognise you in your bondage outfit.”
    She scowled at him. With her heavy-looking platform boots resting on the table and one hand outstretched with the gun pointed directly at his forehead, she looked almost…dangerous. An odd thought considering Ellie Fox had always been an open, sweet girl.
    “It’s not a bondage outfit, idiot,” she said. “I’m Dark Shadow. From my game.”
    Hunter leaned his elbows along the back of the chair in front of him. “You’re dressed as your own heroine?”
    “Promo.” The muzzle of the gun wobbled a bit. “And you’re sounding a touch judgmental, Chase.”
    A small bolt of surprise went through him at the snarky tone in her voice. Ellie never got angry with him. Never showed her anger, period. She wasn’t one for confrontation, tending to retreat in on herself when she got mad or when other people got mad at her. And yet now she stared at him with a decidedly belligerent look in her startling green eyes.
    “What’s up, sweetness?” he asked mildly. “You sound prickly.”
    “Nothing’s up. And I’m allowed to be bloody prickly if I want, okay?”
    Hunter glanced down at the table, noting the number of empty cocktail glasses on it, then back at the wobbly muzzle of her gun. Looked like Vin had been right to suspect Ellie had had a little too much to drink. But who’d have thought such a sweet girl would be such a mean drunk?
    “So exactly how many cocktails have you had?”
    “Not enough. Keep still. I want to shoot you.”
    Hunter gave an inward sigh. “Go on then.”
    Ellie mimed pulling the trigger. “Bang. You’re dead.”
    “Feel better now?”
    “Since you’re still standing, not particularly.”
    “Ah, so the problem is me, is it?”
    “Whatever gave you that idea?” Sarcasm dripped from her tone.
    Hunter gave her another measuring look. Obviously she was spoiling for a fight, which was very un-Ellie-like of her. “How about we discuss this in the truck?”
    “No.” She waved the gun at him, her chin tilted at a mulish angle. “I don’t want to discuss this in the freaking truck. In fact, you can piss off. I’m going to get myself a bloody taxi.”
    Huh. Ellie had never been difficult—in fact normally they got on very well. So where had