Page 44 of Mr. Match

“I know you,” he says to me. “I’ve seen your face before.”

He cannot possibly remember…

“You were…”

“Holy fuck,” Victoria Arias says. And I see the recognition in her eyes. “You were there,” she says, pointing at me. “You were there at Hederman’s Bar having lunch when that whole thing went down with Lucio Gori Junior.”

“I never had a chance to thank you,” I say, looking Victoria Arias straight in the face.

“Thank me for what?” she snaps.

“For getting rid of the asshole who did this to my neck.” And then I pull the collar of my hoodie down and reveal the scar across my throat.

Chapter Nineteen - OLIVER

She’s lying. I’m not sure about which part of that story rings false, exactly. But Kat is lying. I join Pax over at the bar and he hands me the drink he was just about to pour down his throat, and makes another one.

I down it in one gulp.

She’s lying. She’s fucking lying.

“What?” Ellie and Ivy are on their feet, trying to get a closer look. I glance over at Corporate and I read him like a book. He’s staring at her like… like she’s lying. He notices me and shakes his head.

“Hey, West?” Pax asks. “Can I see you for a second?” I watch Kat’s expression. “Outside?” Pax adds. And even though Kat should be focused on Ivy and Ellie, both of whom are asking a million questions about that scar on her neck, she’s looking at Corporate.

She’s lying. And it has something to do with West’s comment about recognizing her.

“Oliver?” Pax calls as he and West make for the door. “Come here for a second.”

Katya’s attention suddenly turns to me. “Be right back,” I say, following West and Pax out the back door.

When we’re safely behind the garage Pax says, “OK, Corporate, spill. What the fuck is happening here? Obviously Oliver is keeping secrets and can’t be trusted, so just get it out.”

I don’t even protest. Because I was keeping secrets.

“I know her, man. I’ve seen her at my house.”

“What fucking house?” Pax asks.

“My parents’ house.”

We stare at West.

“When?” Pax asks.

“Long time ago. Years.”

“How many years?” I ask, my voice low.

“Ten? Before the shit went down.”

“She’s only twenty-two, West—”

“I know. She was just a little girl. But I know it was her. I know it. My mom introduced us.”

Pax sighs loudly. “Why the fuck would your mother introduce you to an eleven-year-old girl?”

“You don’t even want to know.”