PIPER
Timofey refuses to look away.Why won't he look away?I want to throw my cloth napkin at his face just to get a break from his scrutiny.
He tilts his head to the side, brows lowered. "So whatever she called you about, it's more important than you being in jail. More important than you catching on fire."
Shit, shit, shit.I finally pick up the trail of Timofey's logic, but it's too late. He's cornered me, and he knows it.
"Tell me what she said." The mouth that was soft against mine only a couple minutes ago flattens into a threatening slash.
"You're nosy."
"And you're a shitty liar," he snarls back. "What did she say?"
I want to lie, but he's right. I'm no good at it. I've never been a good liar. Great liars are kids who had to lie to their overprotective parents to get out of the house. Teenagers who had to fib to get drunk with their friends or swear up and down that they have no clue who scratched the passenger side door of the car when they took it out.
