Chapter 3: A Liars Truth

I had spent my life perfecting the art of deception. I could spin a story so convincing that kings and beggars would completely believe it. But standing before Anthony J. Cane, I had no lies left to give.

He said nothing as i approached, only watching me with that same quiet patience.

I should have spoken first. I should have made a joke, brushed everyone aside, reclaimed control of the conversation. But the words were caught in my throat, tangled in the recovery of his lips on mine.

Anthony broke the silence. "Finished avoiding me?"

I forced a smirk. "Who said i was avoiding you?"

He chuckled "Jack, you'd sooner charm your way out of a jail cell than admit you were running scared."

I bristled. "I wasn't scared."

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "No?" He stepped closer, and my pulse betrayed me by quickening. "Then look me in the eye and tell me the kiss meant nothing."

I met his gaze. Dark, steady, unwavering.

And I couldn't say it.

---

I had faced down enraged husbands, I cheated card sharks out of their fortunes, and lied my way through situations that should've ended with a blade in my gut. But this? This was terrifying.

Because if I admitted that the kiss meant something, then everything changed.

And yet, standing there, with the city buzzing around us and the weight of Anthony's gaze holding me in place, I felt my resistance unraveling.

I swallowed hard. "I-"

Before I could finish, a voice interrupted.

"Jack Brown."

I turned sharply, instinct kicking in before i could process the tone of voice. Danger.

Three men stood at the edge of the piazza, their expressions dark with recognition. I knew them- gamblers from a tavern I had relieved of a rather substantial amount of money, several weeks ago.

"Ah," I said smoothly. "Gentlemen. How nice to see you again."

One of them sneered. "You cost us a fortune, you little bastard."

Anthony tensed beside me. "Friends of yours?"

I kept my expression easy. "Not exactly."

The largest of the three stepped forward. "We want what you stole from us Jacky boy."

"I didn't steal," I corrected. "I won. Obviously you wouldn't know the difference since you don't win much good Sir."

"And yet," he said drawing a knife, "You're going to give it back."

I sighed. "Must we do this?"

Anthony stepped in front me before I could react. "You want money?" He said. "Take it." He pulled a handful of coins from his pocket and tossed them to the ground.

The man barley glanced at them. "Not enough."

Anthony's jaw tightened. "Then you'll have to go through me."

I blinked. "Anthony-"

"Stay back," he murmured.

Something in his voice made me listen.

The largest man lunged, Anthony moved faster.

I had seen him fight before- briefly, in a bar scuffle and petty squabbles- but never like this. He was precise, controlled, dodging the blade and twisting the man's wrist until the knife clattered to the ground. A second man swung at him, but Anthony ducked, landing a sharp blow to the stomach.

I took the opportunity to grab the remaining man by the collar and slammed him against the wall. "Let me make something very clear," I said pleasantly. "If you ever come near me again, I will make sure you regret it."

The man paled. "Fine- fine!"

I released him, stepping back just as Anthony knocked the last man unconscious.

For a moment there was only the sound of out heavy breathing.

Then Anthony turned to me, exasperated. "You really know how to make enemies."

I grinned. "It's a talent."

He shook his head, laughing despite himself.

Then, before I could second- guess it, before i could stop myself from ruining the moment, I said. "Come with me."

Anthony hesitated. "Where?"

"Away," i said. "Anywhere. Just- come with me."

He searched my face, as if trying to determine whether I was lying.

I wasn't.

---

I had never planned to leave Venice. I had built my life within its twisting canals, it's golden halls, its shadowed corners. And yet, as Anthony and I disappeared into the night I felt none of the hesitation I should have.

We didn't know where we were going. It didn't matter. For the first time, I wasn't running from something- I was running toward it.

We traveled south, slipping between cities like ghosts. Anthony sang for our keep, and I spun stories for our passage. We were again untouchable, two men living by wit and talent alone.

But the more time we spent together, the harder it became to ignore what I so desperately tried to deny.

Every glance. Every touch. Every moment that lingered too long.

I was drowning in something i had no name for, something I refused to name.

And then, one evening, in a small room of a roadside Inn, it all came crashing down.

Anthony was tuning his lute when he caught me staring.

He didn't smirk or tease, didn't call me out for the way my gaze lingered on the curve of his jaw, the slope of his throat. Instead, he simply said, "Are you going to keep pretending Jack?"

I tensed. "Pretending what?"

He set the lute aside. "That you don't feel it."

I forced a scoff. "You're imagining things," although I knew exactly what he was talking about.

He stood slowly, crossing the space between us with quite certainty. "Am I?"

I swallowed. The air between us was too thick, too charged.

Anthony reached for me- not with force, not with hesitation, but with the kind of inevitability I could no longer fight. His fingers curled my wrist, warm and steady.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured.

I should have.

Instead, i propelled forward, crashing my lips against his. The moment our mouths met, everything in the world disappeared.

His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. I had kissed many before but none like this. None that made me feel as if I was falling and flying at once.

He gasped against my mouth, and I drawn in the sound, deepening the kiss until there was no room left for doubt, no space left for denial.

Then-

A sharp knock at the door. I tore away, breathless, my heart pounding. Anthony's eyes were dark, his lips swollen, his expression full of something I couldn't name.

Another knock. Harder this time. A voice from the other side. "Jack Brown, we know you're in there."

I frozen.

Anthony exhaled, stepping back, his fingers lingering on my wrist for a moment before dropping away.

"Looks like you've made enemies again," he muttered.

I grinned, chest still heaving. "I told you- its a talent."

The knocking turned to pounding.

I turned to Anthony, my pulse thrumming. "Well," I murmured, "Shall we give them a show?"

Anthony Smirked. "Always."

I grabbed his hand, without knowing, without thinking. I threw my body and his with me out the window of the roadside Inn.

And together, we ran.