Lie with Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

finally, realizing that she was ferreting information out of him and she was dangerously good at it. Easy to talk to.
    She wouldn’t get anything he didn’t want her to know.
    “He went on an extended deep undercover op when I was fourteen and he never came out of his role,” he continued. “He successfully infiltrated one of the more well-known motorcycle gangs on the East Coast.”
    But in doing so, Howie Moore lost his entire identity and fucked up any chance he’d ever had of getting into the CIA.
    “Once he patched in, which took two years, it was all over.” His father had watched as another agent was killed in the line of duty trying to earn his rocker to become a full-fledged member of a rival gang. It hadn’t stopped Howie. He’d lived as a motorcycle gang member for so long, had absorbed the culture and the mindset, there was no getting him back in the end. His parents had divorced and Cam and his mom had lived in a tiny house in the same neighborhood where his father’s gang reigned supreme.
    “So you weren’t hidden, then?” she asked.
    “After my mom died, I went to live with my dad. He had to keep up the cover and he didn’t want me going into foster care.”
    She leaned forward, elbow on the counter and chin in hand, listening intently, and yeah, a sixteen-year-old boy living among one of the most notorious motorcycle gangs was a pretty fascinating story. Even more so, considering his dad’s ATF contacts hadn’t tried to keep Cam out of the situation. “Dad threatened to pull out of the op if I wasn’t allowed to live with him—he’d been a month away from getting patched in after years of work and the ATF didn’t want to risk blowing an entire operation that was supposed to bring down a huge portion of the gang on firearms and drug charges.”
    “Was the investigation a success?”
    Was it? The evidence garnered a lot of convictions, but it also got Cam his two years in jail. Howie Moore vanished into thin air, and here Cam was, sitting across from the daughter of the man responsible for it all. “Yeah, you could call it that.”
    He stared down at the spot where his gang tattoo had been, remembered sitting with his old man at midnight in one of his buddies’ houses, Getting my boy’s first ink .
    The only good thing was that because of his association with the gang no one fucked with Cam, at least not before his incarceration. Cam was always big and broad and tough—his father hadn’t been the type to coddle anyone and his son had learned early how to defend himself, to handle weapons. To kill, if necessary.
    He’d come close to having to do that in prison.
    “Where’s your dad now?” Sky asked.
    He looked into her light green eyes and said, “I lost track of him when I was seventeen. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”
    Cam hadn’t realized he’d been clutching his glass as if it was someone’s throat as he spoke, but Skylar had noticed. He let it go, but it was too late. She now watched him, eyes wide with revelation, the way they had been earlier.
    “You’re angry at your father, aren’t you?”
    He didn’t deny it. Couldn’t.
    “I’m angry at mine too—more often than I’d like to admit,” she whispered, more to herself than to him as she stared down at her half-eaten dinner. “Sometimes I hate my father because of his job.”
    He heard her soft confession—it made him want to comfort her, and he hated that he knew how she really felt, wanting to love her father, thinking he was the greatest.
    Cam wanted her to be just like Gabriel, so he could hate her too.
    S ky pushed her plate away and felt the tears well. She wiped her cheeks hastily with the palm of her hand, embarrassed and angry.
    “I didn’t mean to dredge up things about your family,” Cam said quietly.
    “It’s not that. I’ve come to terms with it—as much as I can anyway. It’s just … At first I thought maybe it was simply worry about my dad, that I haven’t heard from