Half-Truths: New York Times Bestselling Author

by Contreras, Claire

  His words made my heart beat a little quicker. The way he said them left no room for question. He was talking about me, about us. I looked up at him as we stopped in front of the bedroom that had been assigned to me. On this floor, the light was even more sparse. He was standing right in front of me, and I could barely make out his eyes. The candlelight he was blocking behind him gave him a glow around his head that made him look like a fallen angel.

  “You know, I think you may be onto something.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  My phone vibrated with a text.

  Unknown number: they’re part of the problem.

  My phone shook in my hands as I stared at the text. Whoever was sending these texts knew about The Eight. Maybe about The Lab and The Labyrinth Initiative. Worse, they somehow knew I was now involved with them. Instead of calling, I sent a text, hoping like hell it didn’t bounce back again.

  Me: who?

  There was no answer. I tried calling, and sure enough, the phone had been disconnected. I set it down and laid back in bed, staring up at the ivory ceiling that had been etched with intricate designs throughout. My phone vibrated again. This time, I jumped up and picked it up quickly, ready to call right away. It wasn’t unknown, but Logan.

  Logan Fitzgerald: how do you feel?

  Me: much better after my bath. I hate baths by the way.

  Logan Fitzgerald: lol why?

  Me: I don’t know. I’m not a bird.

  Logan Fitzgerald: you are entirely too extra for me

  Me: you can’t see me but I’m sticking my tongue out at you

  Logan Fitzgerald: you can’t feel me, but I just bit it and sucked it into my mouth

  My heart ceased to beat as I took a breath and read the text over. Holy hell. How was that so hot even in a text and why did I want it to come to life so badly? My foot shook as I tried to come up with a response. Think, think, think. I didn’t have to think of a response at all, because he sent another text before I got a chance to.

  Logan Fitzgerald: I can’t stop thinking about you

  The butterflies in my belly took flight once more. I bit down on my lip.

  Me: what are you thinking about?

  Logan Fitzgerald: so many things

  Me: like whether or not I’m wearing the sexy lingerie?

  Logan Fitzgerald: amongst other things

  Me: you don’t want to find out for yourself?

  I’d thrown an oversized t-shirt I wore as a pajamas over the black lingerie set he’d left on my bed—black lace bra and matching panties, so strappy and thin that I wasn’t sure they could be considered underwear. I stared at the little dots, heart pounding, as I waited for his follow up text to come through. My foot started shaking in anticipation. Then there was a knock on my door. My head snapped up first, then my body followed, setting my phone down as I made my way over to the door, unlocked it and pulled it open slightly. He was standing on the other side, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, no shirt, no shoes, no socks.

  He looked beautiful in this light, like a fallen angel looking for his way back to salvation, and the way he looked at me made me feel like I was it. I stepped back. He walked inside quietly, standing right beside me as I shut the door and locked it again, keeping my back facing him as I tried to gain a semblance of modesty I wasn’t sure there was any sense in keeping. I felt his warmth behind me as he stepped closer to me, felt his breath tickling the nape of my neck as he placed his lips there. My head fell forward as I leaned against him. He brought both hands to either side of my arms, tucking them into the sleeves of my t-shirt. The callouses on his hands made my skin prickle as he ran them up to my shoulders and back down. He rained kisses on either side of my sensitive neck, his lips a soft caress that nearly tickled. As I lifted my head and turned around to face him, he brought his hands down and pushed them underneath my shirt. I watched his gaze heat, his throat bob as he explored my body. I wanted to make a jest, to ask if he was planning on taking off my shirt or just keep copping a feel beneath it, but I couldn’t bring myself to break the spell we were cast under.

  I put my hands out to touch him. His muscles tensed under my fingertips as I glided my hands over his shoulders, his chest, along the V that disappeared into his sweatpants. It made it so tempting, like an arrow begging my movements to continue south. I hooked my fingers at the top of his sweatpants tentatively, knowing I’d find him ready. I could feel him hard against my lower belly. I looked up at him then, wondering if I should keep going or wait. A chill ran through me when our eyes locked. He was entirely too intense for me. I’d known that from day one, yet here I was, welcoming him all the way, because even in my lust filled haze I knew that this wasn’t going to be just casual sex. Nothing about our relationship had ever been casual. His lips formed a small smile, as if he could read my thoughts.

  “I feel like I should just say it outright,” I whispered. “You scare the hell out of me. This scares the hell out of me.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to share you.” I glanced down, unable to say this while looking him in the eye. “I’m afraid you’ll move on to someone else once you tire of me. Or worse, while you’re with me, and I don’t even know if that’s what you want. I don’t know if you’re looking for a relationship or—”

  “Hey, Mae.” He cupped my chin and brought my gaze to his. He moved closer, the tip of his nose brushing mine, his lips barely touching mine. “If you were mine, I’d make it so that you never have any doubts.”

  “You can’t promise that.”

  “I won’t promise that. I’ll just show you.”

  His lips touched mine softly, his tongue parted my mouth gently and meeting mine slowly, as if to give us time to acclimate with each other. It wasn’t a fast kiss, or a rough one, but languid and gentle. As his tongue brushed against mine, he brought his hand to my face and stepped into me, parting my legs with one of his, similar to the day we were outside of The Tower. Maybe it was the kiss, or how rough his sweatpants felt through my flimsy underwear, but I felt a wave of pleasure course through me and arched to chase another. Logan lifted me as we kissed, deeper now, harder, and walked me to the foot of the bed, setting me down there. He lifted the shirt over my head and tossed it aside, taking a step back to look at me.

  “God damn.” His voice was rough. “This is so much better than my fantasy.”

  “What else do you fantasize about, Mr. Fitzgerald?”

  He groaned. “So many things and you star in every single one of them.”

  “You don’t have to impress me, you know?” I laughed, biting my lip. “I’m already naked.”

  “You’re not naked yet, and I’m not saying that to impress you. You’re everything I have ever fantasized about, Amelia. And I’m not just saying that because you look fucking hot in this lingerie.”

  I stood on the tips of my toes, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. We fell back onto the bed together in a heap of laughter as we continued to kiss, our tongues dancing, our lips moving, our teeth biting flesh. I relinquished control over to him as he took the reins, of the kiss, and of whatever was to come. His mouth left mine and began exploring my jaw, my neck, his teeth dragging the cups of my bra down as he sucked my nipples into his mouth gently at first, and then with fervor, hot and demanding. I arched off the bed with a moan. As his hands undressed me and then himself, I felt like I had little air left to breathe.

  “I need you,” I whispered against him.

  “Baby, I’ve needed you for a long time.” He chuckled against my mouth as he set a condom over himself.

  His mouth continued to move lower, down my abdomen, until he was between my legs and his tongue was licking there. My chest heaved as his tempo quickened, then lessened, then quickened again. He sucked me into his mouth and held me so that I couldn’t move away from him when I started to explode. I chanted his name, Logan, Logan, Logan, and that seemed to drive him over the edge even more. I slapped a hand on the top of his head, grabbing a
fistful and bringing him up. He bit my inner thighs and kissed his way up, never taking his eyes off mine as he opened my legs even further apart and positioned himself between them.

  “If you feel anything like how you taste, I’m warning you, get out now.” He placed his forehead against mine. “Because I won’t let you go.”

  I smiled against his lips, but then he thrust inside me with a low growl and the only thing I could do was gasp at the feel. It wasn’t unpleasant, but he was deep, and I swore I felt him everywhere. I wrapped my legs around his waist, tugging him, begging for him to ease the tension building inside me. He filled me with more tension, an ache that made my eyes roll back and traveled to the tips of my toes. I was tingling all over as he moved, my chest expanding as I gripped his arms tight. Soon I felt an explosion of emotions go off inside me. It had never felt like that—like art—colorful and raw.

  “Fuck, Amelia.” He thrust again. He pressed his forehead against mine, eyes shut tight as he came to a stop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “Please don’t stop.”

  “I’m not letting you go.” His eyes popped open, meeting mine as he pulled out and thrust again. “I never want to let you go.”

  “So don’t.” I grabbed his shoulders and moved to his tempo.

  We held each other the entire time, looking into each other’s eyes as if scared the other would disappear. I came like a firework going off in the dead of night, loudly and trembling. He followed in the same fashion, his grunts decreasing as his strokes died down. He let himself fall over me until we were chest to chest, but held himself off to the side to not burden me with his weight. Our hearts beat against one another’s, having a conversation that was too deep for either of us to voice aloud right now. The only time we left the bed was to clean up and start again, as if needing to satiate the ache that had been building between us. When our bodies were tired and we finally decided on sleep, he kissed my shoulder and held me close. It was the best sleep I’d gotten in weeks.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I stretched my arms over my head with a loud yawn and looked over at Logan, who was still sleeping. I bit my lip as I smiled. Honestly, if he hadn’t stayed the night, I would have thought I dreamed it all—his mouth on me, his hands, the way he watched me as I climaxed. It was all so raw, so real, and even still it felt like a dream. I pushed myself out of bed, grabbing my phone as I headed to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, messy hair, flushed skin, wearing Logan’s college t-shirt that was entirely too big on me and I was never giving back. I smiled again. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this happy.

  As I started brushing my teeth, I checked my texts, expecting my mother to have texted me twice, as usual. It was always the same: good morning, sweet pea, followed by, Lincoln is still resting. Resting. I’d gotten used to it, but it wasn’t something I enjoyed. The only reason I didn’t argue with her or tell her to stop calling it that was because I knew a part of her was saying it for her sake, not mine. Today, there were no texts. It was eleven in the morning.

  When I finished brushing, I decided to call her. Her phone was answered on the second ring, not by her, but my father. Because of all of the recent information I’d heard about him, I had cut communication with him. Normally, I was a daddy’s girl through and through, always texting and sending him random I love you’s throughout the day, but how could I continue that now? After all the rumors I’d heard? And that’s what I hoped they were—rumors, but I couldn’t just erase them from my mind.

  “Hey, sweet pea. You haven’t called your dad in a long time,” he said. “How have you been?”

  “Okay.” I took a breath. “How’s Lincoln?”

  “They’re in the process of waking him now. We’re all barely breathing over here.”

  “Who is we all?” I crossed an arm over myself as I paced the bathroom. I didn’t want to go back into the room and risk waking up Logan.

  “Your brothers, mother, grandmothers and I.”

  “Wow. You guys didn’t even think to invite me to this? I didn’t realize it was a family affair.” I frowned, trying not to let it get to me, but I felt the tears form anyway as my emotions took ownership of Lincoln. “He’s my brother. He’s my best friend.”

  “You’ve been through a lot, Amelia. We don’t want you to stress more than you already are. You’re in school and we all agreed that you need to enjoy your life in college.” Dad was using his soft, placating voice now.

  “Yeah, well, congrats. I’m having a grand old time here at The Lab.”

  Dad chuckled lightly. “They initiated you.”

  “I’m sure you knew before it happened.”

  “I did.”

  “I heard a lot of rumors about you. None of them good.”

  He was quiet for a beat. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  “Not even when there’s proof?”

  “Sometimes what people try to sell as proof is nothing more than baseless lies.”

  “Pictures don’t lie.”

  “Pictures tell you what you want to believe.” His voice was even more hushed now. “If you want the truth you go straight to the source. I’m assuming in this case, that’s me. So ask. Ask what you want to ask and stop trying to play Sherlock with the Valentine girl and whoever else you’ve found to play along with you.”

  I stopped pacing. He knew about Hailey? How could he possibly know what we talked about? My mind raced. Ella. Ella Valentine must have told him. Maybe Hailey and her mom had the kind of relationship that consisted of telling each other everything. Or maybe those little cameras I’d seen in the coffee shop caught audio. A thought occurred to me then. Had Lana ever been to the coffee shop? It seemed like everyone on campus had been. Why would Lana be the exception? I made a mental note to ask Hailey when I saw her.

  “Were you with Lana?” I asked my father, and held my breath as I waited for his response.

  “Anyone at The Eight and who goes to The Lab for events can tell you that I was mentoring Lana. She was a bright student and wanted to get into media when she graduated. Yes, I helped her.”

  “Were you with her, dad? With her. Please don’t make me say the words aloud.” I shut my eyes, not bothering to wipe the tears falling down my cheeks.

  “I was her mentor, Amelia,” he said. “That’s the beginning and the end of that.”

  “Okay.” I breathed out. Did I believe him? No, but I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. I wiped my face and bit down on the tip of my thumb as I leaned against the counter. “What’s going on with Lincoln now?”

  “The doctor hasn’t come back out. We’ll keep you posted okay?” he said.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “And, Amelia? Don’t mention anything about the mentorship or The Lab or The Eight to your mother. She’s already been through enough.”

  I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, and hung up the phone without saying another word. The knock on the bathroom door had me wiping my face faster. Logan opened it slowly. He looked so sexy, with disheveled hair and a lust filled expression on his face as he took me in, wearing his t-shirt. Whatever he saw on my face made him sigh heavily. I could only imagine what a mess he saw, but I didn’t care, because as he wrapped his strong arms around me the only thing I could do was breathe him in and pray that I could keep him forever.

  “What happened?” He pulled away slightly, hands framing my face.

  “Apparently my family decided to keep me out of the loop, but they’re waking up Lincoln right now.” My lip wobbled as I said the words, and wobbled more as Logan’s thumbs caressed my face. “They said they didn’t want me to worry more than I already have.”

  “Oh, Mae.” He pulled me back onto his chest and held me there. “I don’t have a fancy jet, but do you want me to drive you there?”

  “It’s four hours away.”

  “I don’t care. We could look up flights if you want, but there’s a wind warning in effect. Flights are delayed.”

&n
bsp; “How do you know?” I looked up at him.

  “I check the news first thing in the morning.”

  “Oh.”

  “We have the pep rally and then camping tonight.”

  I pulled back completely this time. He dropped his hands. Ella had told me that I needed to show up to their pep rally to take pictures. Even Max and I had discussed it numerous times, but I didn’t realize that was today.

  “That’s today?”

  “Yep.” His brows furrowed. “If you don’t feel up for it—”

  “No. I do. I’ll just keep my phone on me at all times. If there’s anything worth reporting someone will call.” Even as I said it, I knew I sounded doubtful.

  I couldn’t believe they hadn’t even thought to text me a heads up that they were all going to be there. What if Lincoln woke up and I was the only one who wasn’t there? I considered telling Logan that I changed my mind about the ride and wanted one after all, but he had a pep rally. He had things he needed to be here for. I wasn’t going to be responsible for him missing out. I thought of my father’s words and how he claimed that was the reason they hadn’t called in the first place. Maybe he hadn’t been lying about that. Maybe he was right and I should stay put. Logan was moving about around me. He’d gone to his room at some point and had brought his toothbrush with him and was doing that.

  I moved out of his way and walked back into the room, my eyes on the messy bed. Not that I needed an outward reminder to remind me what we’d done last night. My sore limbs were telling enough on that end. I walked toward the window and put my hand on it, feeling the cold from outside against my fingertips. My mind was still on my father. I wondered if there was ever a time in the not so distant future in which it wouldn’t be on my father’s sins.

  The fog seemed heavier than usual. I couldn’t make out the white shed or the plot next door. The sound of Logan’s footsteps alerted me that he was back in the room, but I didn’t move, I kept my eyes outside. He walked up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist, his chin dropping on the top of my head.