Lethal Lies

  Copyright © 2017 Rebecca Zanetti

  Excerpt from Twisted Truths copyright © 2016 Rebecca Zanetti

  Cover photography ©

  Author photograph © Dylan Patrick

  The right of Rebecca Zanetti to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Published by arrangement with Forever, an imprint of Grand Central Publishing.

  First published in this Ebook edition in 2017

  by HEADLINE ETERNAL

  An imprint of HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library

  eISBN 978 1 4722 4467 3

  HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  An Hachette UK Company

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  www.headlineeternal.com

  www.headline.co.uk

  www.hachette.co.uk

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Author

  Praise for Rebecca Zanetti

  Also by Rebecca Zanetti

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Twisted Truths

  Meet the sexy Sin Brothers

  Could you survive the Scorpius Syndrome?

  Find out more about Headline Eternal

  About the Author

  New York Times bestselling author Rebecca Zanetti has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and a hearing examiner – only to culminate it all in stories about Alpha males and the women who claim them. She writes dark paranormals, romantic suspense and sexy contemporary romances.

  Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family who inspire her every day – or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.

  Find Rebecca at www.rebeccazanetti.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/RebeccaZanetti.books or on Twitter @RebeccaZanetti.

  Just some of the reasons to fall for Rebecca Zanetti’s powerful romances:

  ‘Action packed, thrilling, and heart-stopping romantic suspense at its best’ Harlequin Junkie

  ‘Zanetti pulls together a heady mix of sexy sizzle, emotional punch and high-stakes danger in this truly outstanding tale’ Romantic Times

  ‘A fast-paced, action-packed thriller that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time’ Fresh Fiction

  ‘Rebecca Zanetti had me from the moment I read the description . . . I could barely breathe, let alone set down the book . . . you’ll want to add Rebecca Zanetti to your must-read list too!’ The Best Reviews

  ‘Plenty of action, lots of steamy romance and even a few moments of laughter and tears . . . I was on the edge of my seat until the very last chapter’ KT Book Reviews

  By Rebecca Zanetti

  The Blood Brothers Series

  Deadly Silence

  Lethal Lies

  Twisted Truths

  The Sin Brothers Series

  Forgotten Sins

  Sweet Revenge

  Blind Faith

  Total Surrender

  The Scorpius Syndrome Series

  Mercury Striking

  Shadow Falling

  Justice Ascending

  About the Book

  A deadly secret can’t stay buried forever . . .

  Revenge. It’s the only thing that helps Anya Best sleep at night. The serial killer who murdered her sister is on the loose, and Anya will stop at nothing to put him behind bars. But she can’t do it alone.

  Private investigator Heath Jones’s job is to bring the bad guys to justice. He knew the Copper Killer’s latest victim so when her sister asks for help, he’s all in.

  But when Anya uses the media to taunt the killer, she exposes Heath’s identity, putting them both in jeopardy. Now, long-buried secrets are coming to light – and the forces determined to destroy Heath are watching, waiting to exact their own revenge by any means necessary . . .

  For more addictive romantic suspense look out for the rest of the titles in the Blood Brothers and Sin Brothers series. And for thrilling passion played out against a dangerous race for survival, look for the titles in The Scorpius Syndrome series: Mercury Striking, Shadow Falling, and Justice Ascending.

  To Michele and Brian on December 3, 2016. In

  life, there are many Once Upon a Times. Here is to

  your Happily Ever After! Best wishes and

  congratulations!

  Acknowledgments

  I’m delighted we’re writing a spin-off series for those Sin Brothers, and I hope readers enjoy this new band of lost and wounded men. This series found a wonderful home with Grand Central Forever, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to work with so many wonderful, talented, and hardworking people.

  Thanks to Michele Bidelspach for being such an amazing editor. She works so hard and sees the depths that can be found in each and every character. I don’t know how she does it.

  Thanks to Brian Lemus for the absolutely awesome covers in this series. They’re amazing, and I love them. Thanks also to Jodi Rosoff, Michelle Cashman, Jessica Pierce, Yasmin Mathew, Dianna Stirpe, and Kallie Shimek from Grand Central Forever for their hard work.

  A big thank you to my agent, Caitlin Blasdell, who does an amazing job across the board. Thanks also to Liza Dawson and the Dawson gang for the hard work and support.

  Thanks to Jillian Stein, Minga Portillo, Rebecca’s Rebels, Writerspace, and Fresh Fiction for getting the word out about the books.

  Thanks also to my constant support system: Gail and Jim English, Debbie and Travis Smith, Stephanie and Don West, Brandie and Mike Chapman, Jessica and Jonah Namson, and Kathy and Herb Zanetti.

  Finally, thank you to Big Tone for being Big Tone. I love you. Also, thanks to Gabe and Karlina for being such great kids. I love you both!

  PROLOGUE


  Twenty years ago

  The car smelled like leather and something fake. Heath had never been in a new car before, but he’d seen advertisements for “new car smell” fresheners on television a couple of times. Last month, he would’ve liked exploring the car. Now, who cared? Why bother?

  His head hurt, and his chest ached. The doctors had just finished poking at him, real doctors, which was weird. “Why did I have to get a physical?” he asked the driver.

  She looked at him in the mirror, her blue eyes sharp. “We like to have a complete medical history at the boys home.”

  Boys home. Yeah. What a shithole. Heath had arrived there yesterday, tried to save a mangy kitten, and then had taken a beating from the owner of the place. Ned Cobb was an asshole.

  But hey, Heath had saved the cat. It had been his first day, and it had sucked. Then this lady had shown up early in the morning to take him for a routine physical. The doctors had believed him about falling on his bike to get the bruises.

  Like he’d ever had a bike. “How long do I have to stay at this place?”

  “Until you’re an adult.”

  That sucked. His mom’s boyfriend had killed her and then disappeared more than a week ago. Heath had been trying to find him, but the police had caught his ass, putting him into the system.

  At just eleven years old, he didn’t know much about the system except he didn’t want to be there.

  The car smell was kind of cool, but he’d give anything to smell his mom’s lotion again. Her scent had been soft and sweet, kind of like he imagined pink roses would smell. If he’d been stronger, smarter . . . he could’ve saved her. Tears pricked the back of his eyes, and he ruthlessly shoved them away.

  It hurt, but he kept his gaze blank, especially since the lady driving the car kept watching him. She had really sharp blue eyes and too-red lips, and she’d known his name.

  “Do you work at the boys home?” he asked, shifting on the leather seat.

  “No. I just consult,” she said, her eyebrows rising as she looked at him in the mirror. Her voice sounded like the ex-lawyer who’d lived next to Heath at one time. The guy had swum constantly in a vodka bottle but had been all right and even helpful with geometry homework. This lady probably had a bunch of degrees, too.

  Heath didn’t have words, so he nodded at her, not really giving a shit about a home or whatever a consultant did. Without his mom to take care of, he didn’t have anything to do, since Spyder, the fucking killer, was long gone. His mom had been sweet but so lost with the meth. Sometimes she’d loved the dangerous crystals more than him, but he got it. Drugs sucked. He rubbed his chest, picturing her pretty bluish green eyes when they’d been clear. Drug free, she’d loved him a lot.

  That was more than most kids got.

  She had always chosen losers to live with, and Heath had been getting just big enough to protect her. But he hadn’t gotten there fast enough and she’d died. He clenched his fingers into a fist and fought not to cry in front of the lady driving the car.

  “You’ll like it at the home,” the woman said. “And we’ll get to know each other.”

  Why would the lady want to know him? “Humph.”

  She smiled, and her teeth were really straight. “Do you remember my name?”

  He scratched a scab on his elbow. “Sylvia Daniels.” He never forgot anything and could even recite the first page of a book he’d read years ago. “You’re a social worker studying smart kids.” At least that’s what she’d said when she’d picked him up to take him to the doctor. Something told him she wasn’t giving him the full truth, but grown-ups usually didn’t. So long as they left him alone, he didn’t really care. But she probably wasn’t going to leave him alone.

  “Did your mother tell you anything about your father or family?” Sylvia asked.

  “No.” Heath picked the scab off, and his elbow bled a little. His mom had seemed afraid of somebody—maybe family—and was always looking over her shoulder. “Do you know anything about them?”

  “I do not,” Sylvia said, her voice changing in pitch.

  He leaned his head back on the seat. Grown-ups always fucking lied. He’d gotten the feeling more than once that he and his mom were running from something. Maybe his dad was a total asshole who wanted to kill them. Made sense, considering the men his mom had ended up loving.

  Well, except him. She’d loved him. Maybe he was an asshole, too. He frowned.

  Even if he came from a jerk of a father, his mom had been a good person. Maybe he was half good. That’d be okay. If he’d had a chance, he might’ve been all good and made her proud. Gotten her help somehow.

  Now he’d never get the chance. His bottom lip trembled, and he bit it. Hard.

  Sylvia pulled down a long dirt road by a sign that said lost springs home for boys on it.

  The name had an odd ring to it, and he shivered at seeing the sign again. They reached the main building, and she stopped the car.

  Heath slowly slid out and scanned the area. He’d hadn’t had a chance to really look around the previous day. Now the place seemed busy. A bunch of bigger boys messed with a scruffy dog over by a stand of trees. Assholes. Some smaller kids played with a soccer ball in a dirt field a ways away. His gaze caught on a boy sitting on a log fence by himself just watching everyone. He was frowning at the big kids.

  Sylvia followed his gaze. “That’s Ryker. He’s another boy I study.” Her voice had a low tone Heath couldn’t quite read, but a shiver wound down his back.

  He swallowed. Nothing in him wanted to be studied. Did he have a choice? Probably not. “Do you study a lot of kids?”

  “Only the two of you.”

  The shiver got bigger. What did “study” mean? He didn’t want to wonder, but he couldn’t help it. “Why the two of us?”

  She turned to face him full-on. “You’re special, Heath. Both of you are.”

  He tried to smile for her and play the game, but his mouth wouldn’t work. Did she know all about him? About the way he could hear things other people couldn’t? His eyesight and memory were weirdly good, and he could move really fast if he had to. There was nowhere to hide from this woman, so he didn’t try. “How are we special?”

  “We’re going to find that out.”

  Maybe she didn’t know what he could do. He sure wasn’t going to tell her. Heath looked back at Ryker. There was something about the boy that called to him. Did Ryker have freaky skills, too? Why else would Sylvia study him? Heath’s heart beat faster.

  Sylvia smiled. “I’ll go get Ned Cobb so we can discuss your plan here. I know you met him yesterday. Why don’t you introduce yourself to Ryker?”

  Heath didn’t move. What if Ryker punched him in the face? Then he’d punch back, and he’d be in a fight right off the bat. But maybe Ryker knew a way out of the boys home. Heath had known bad people during his life, and when the hair on the back of his neck rose, it was time to run. Was there anywhere to run?

  He rubbed the back of his neck.

  Sylvia disappeared into the building.

  Heath watched Ryker, and Ryker had turned his full attention on Heath. Then the older boy moved toward Heath, and he walked like a tiger Heath had seen on television one time.

  Heath hunched his shoulders but didn’t back up. He planted his threadbare tennis shoes that were a size too big.

  Ryker had bluish green eyes and fresh bruises along his jaw. “I saw you save that cat yesterday.”

  Heath blinked. He hadn’t realized anybody had been watching. That was rare for him. “He was alone and scared.” The scruffy little thing had just wanted food, and Heath had peanuts. “Um, I’m Heath.”

  Ryker eyed him.

  Heath cleared his voice. “Who hurt your face?”

  Ryker didn’t even twitch.

  Yeah. That’s what Heath had thought. How far did the woods go? He could run that way. “Sylvia said she studies you.”

  Ryker’s eyes flared and then shut down. Jumbled emotions came from him
and bombarded Heath. “You her new pet?”

  Acid crawled through Heath’s stomach. “I hope not,” he blurted. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around the perfectly clean place with no litter anywhere. The sun was too bright. Most of the clean in his life was just on the surface. This home . . . had dirty all over it. He could feel it. “Is this a good place?” His voice was too high, and he blanched.

  “No.”

  That’s what he’d figured. One beating from Ned Cobb was all he was gonna take. “Then I’m outta here.” He turned for the road.

  “You won’t make it.” Ryker sighed. “Not today, anyway. Don’t try it.”

  Heath paused. “Sylvia said she wants to study me, too.”

  Ryker’s gaze narrowed. “Did she say why?”

  “No.” Heath swallowed over a lump in his throat. The kid didn’t seem to want a friend. “Do you like being studied?”

  “Fuck no.” Ryker took a rock and threw it across the dirt.

  Heath’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I kinda figured that.”

  Ryker cocked his head. “I’m leaving as soon as I can.”

  Heath’s knees wobbled. “Maybe I could come with you?” The two of them would be stronger together.

  The boy studied him as if he could peel Heath’s skin back and see all the way to his bones. Finally, Ryker nodded. “Are you a dickhead who tortures animals?” he asked, jerking his head toward the bigger boys.

  Heath breathed out, his lungs finally relaxing. “No. Like the kitten yesterday, I try to save ’em.” It seemed like Ryker needed to be saved a little. Maybe they could be friends. If nothing else, they could cover each other’s backs. “You?”

  “I don’t torture, but saving seems a waste of time.” Ryker’s mouth turned down.

  Heath leaned against the shiny car. His chest puffed out. He could help Ryker get the hell out of this place. Maybe not be so alone. Then Ryker could help him find the dick who’d killed his mom.

  The bruises on Ryker made Heath’s stomach clench again. They would survive. He’d make sure of it. “It’s gonna be okay, Ryker. I promise.”

  The dog yelped from a bigger boy throwing a rock at its legs. Heath’s body heated, and he pushed away from the vehicle.