Kisses and Lies: A Anti-Hero Standalone Romance

by T. L Smith

  “No,” I answer truthfully.

  He steps past me, happy with my answer, and walks over to Dave in the chair. I hate that I have to see him again, but I am happy it’s not him in a position of power. That bastard creeps me out, and for a good reason. Dave’s eyes look at me, and I can see he’s pleading with me, but I don’t have anything in me to give to him.

  “He hired my boss to take you down,” I tell Blaze, who looks up at me, shocked.

  “That’s interesting. So, you were behind the newspaper articles then?” Blaze asks while looking down at Dave. “I only fucked your wife once, and you know she wanted it. Plus, it was payment for all those fucking drugs you never paid for.”

  Dave starts thrashing in his seat, and Blaze smiles, looking over at me. “He would have lied, it’s what Dave’s so very good at. A lying, cheating, scumbag.” Blaze shakes his head, and I turn to see Marcus dressed in a white coat, he’s wearing gloves and a face mask.

  “Did he do it?” I ask Blaze.

  He leans down, takes the gag from Dave’s mouth, and looks him in the eye. “Tell her.”

  “I knew she was yours, the second time. I marked her and told her my cock can go deeper than yours. Then I showed her. She screamed then,” Dave says to Blaze.

  What a mistake.

  I lose all the contents of my stomach at his words.

  I don’t want to know. Really, I don’t want to know any of the details.

  “You should leave now,” Marcus says through his mask.

  “What do you plan to do to him?”

  Marcus doesn’t answer as he steps closer to a struggling Dave.

  It’s Blaze who answers, “He deserves everything he’s about to get. And Rochelle…” I look up to Blaze, “… you were never here. And you know nothing of this place. Do you understand?”

  I nod at his words.

  “I need your words, Rochelle,” he says.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Go home. You won’t have to worry about him again.” Then Blaze walks over to me, opens the door as Dave starts speaking his evil words about all the things he did to Tanika, and how much she liked it. The minute the air hits me, I can no longer walk. And as the door shuts behind me, I collapse onto the grass out the front. I can still hear Dave screaming awful things about Tanika, but, somehow, I can’t seem to move my body. It’s stuck in the position it is in.

  Music blares and I know what’s happening. I don’t know exactly, but I have a pretty good idea.

  The screams eventually fall silent, and the sky seems to grow darker.

  Curling up in a ball, I lay there with the sun shining down on me, wondering what it would be like to live a different life. And how on earth did I end up here, lying out front while my lover is in a shed more than likely tearing apart a rapist.

  All while I do nothing but twiddle my thumbs in the grass.

  When the door finally opens, I’m still lying in the grass with my eyes closed and not wanting to move. The sun has started to set and I know, I just know, this isn’t me. I have to change. I have to change all of this. Starting with the man standing above me.

  “Déjà vu,” I say.

  Marcus walks around so he’s standing in front of me, reaching down to help me up. When I stand, he picks me up as if I weigh nothing, and carries me back to the house.

  “Is he dead?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Dave went back to Tanika the second time because he knew she was with Blaze, right?”

  Marcus’ eyes search mine as we reach the house. “Yes.”

  Pain radiates through me, and sadness hits me hard. “I miss her.”

  Marcus doesn’t speak, just puts me in his bedroom and heads for the shower. When I manage to move, I head in too. His shower is large and open, and it has no glass doors.

  “I’m going to go,” I tell him.

  Marcus nods, there’s no fight in him. No asking me to stay.

  Just a damn nod.

  “Marcus…”

  He turns that beautiful ass of his, leaving my view, and now stands before me, a man with scars and a face so hauntingly beautiful I have to remember to breathe.

  “Do you love me?”

  He picks up the soap, blinks a few times, and turns back again. Giving me no answer. I nod my head in acknowledgment and leave. He doesn’t try to stop me. He doesn’t even walk me out.

  As I get in my car, I see Blaze standing in the dark near his motorcycle. He stubs out his cigarette and walks toward me, then leans down so he’s at my window and looks me over.

  “I hated you on the merit that you’re too good. I can see it. You are too good for someone like my brother. Not that he isn’t a great man,” Blaze says. I don’t speak. “You haven’t experienced half the things in this life he has. He’s walked through hell and never once looked back. He does that for people he loves. It’s why I admire him so much.” Blaze winks. “Don’t tell him that, though.”

  I won’t, because I think this is it.

  I think I’m done.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  Marcus had become a security blanket, one I no longer need. Well, one I have to stop needing.

  “What I’m saying is, Marcus doesn’t know good. You are the first good thing in his life that doesn’t expect anything. Do you get what I’m saying?”

  I do expect something from Marcus, and right now, I want something. I want him to tell me he loves me. And he didn’t. So my heart, which is shattered, will slowly grow back to love again. Maybe I will love myself differently, but I need to grow it back and become whole once more.

  Too much death, and not enough life.

  Marcus is all about death.

  I am not.

  “I don’t hate you, but I don’t like you,” he says, pushing back so his face is no longer near mine. “I couldn’t protect her, but I can protect him. If you stay with him any longer, he will change, and he doesn’t need to. Marcus is perfect just the way he is.” I shake my head, confused by his words. “He will never love you. He vowed to never love another woman after our mother. You will be lonely with him, no matter how good you are. He is always in the dark. Always.” Then he turns and walks off back to his bike, kick-starting it, and leaving me sitting in the driveway with no sign of Marcus and a hole the size of New York in my heart. He must know by now I’m no longer inside the house, and he hasn’t come to stop me, or see if I am okay.

  Maybe Blaze is right.

  No, I know he is.

  Marcus will never love me the way I love him.

  And no matter how much I try telling myself it will be enough, it isn’t.

  Marcus told me he would only be with me.

  Now that’s a lie too.

  Does he like her more than he likes me?

  I shake my head as the jealousy of the blonde comes roaring into my head.

  I’m not a jealous woman, and Marcus has turned me into a crazy person.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Marcus

  “You lied to her,” Blaze says later that night as he steps into the back house, his eyes falling to the source of the lie. Dave, who is not dead.

  “It was necessary.”

  “Was it, though?” he asks. “You have a woman who, despite all of this…” he waves his hands around, “… still hangs around.”

  “You don’t even like her.”

  “True. This is true. But I can see the way she looks at you.”

  “And how is that?” I ask, walking over to a passed out Dave, who is close to death.

  “She looks at you as if you’re her lifeline.”

  “I don’t want to be anyone’s lifeline,” I mutter while shaking my head.

  “I think you do,” Blaze says.

  Dave starts to stir. He’s strapped to the chair, unable to move. He starts to make muffled sounds, then screams when the pain begins to take hold.

  Blaze looks down on him and shakes his head. “Everyone thinks it’s me who is the dangerous one and you
’re just the freak. But they don’t really know it’s you who’s the dangerous one. And I feel even if she knew that as well, she’d still accept you.”

  “She’s good,” I tell Blaze, reaching for my favorite item—the saw.

  Dave starts squirming.

  “And you’re evil. She will balance you out.”

  “Again… you hate her, that makes it hard,” I tell him.

  “I do, but I love you.” My hand freezes at his words. “You protected me. Showed me what love is. You didn’t even know you were doing it. I’d hear your screams when they would burn you. I never ran too far from the trailer. I had to know. Had to know they didn’t kill you.”

  “They could never have killed me.”

  “They could have. You loved Mom, and you should have left several times. You didn’t, though, because you wanted to protect me from her, Marcus. You stayed because you stay for broken things. And Rochelle is broken now.”

  “No, she isn’t. She’s hurt.”

  “If you say so. But also think about what you want.” Blaze steps back as I put Dave’s hand flat on the table, his screams are muffled as I start to saw each finger off individually. It’s not long before he passes out. The area fills with blood again, mixing with what is already dried up from when we did his toes yesterday.

  Blaze has instructed we give him the same pain he inflicted on Tanika. And short of shoving this saw up his ass, which I am still contemplating, this will do. Torturing him and stopping when he passes out, then restarting when he wakes again. Over and over until I have nothing left to cut off.

  Then, if I feel generous, I might take this blade to his throat and finish the job.

  “She wants kids,” I tell Blaze, my blade sitting on Dave’s stomach as we wait for him to wake.

  Blaze steps back and shakes his head. “Fuck.”

  “Exactly,” I groan.

  “Well, you need to work out what you’re doing.”

  The door pushes open, and Snow steps in. He’s the only other one who knows about this place other than Blaze.

  “I found these.” Snow drops pictures and panties onto the floor.

  Majority of those pictures are of Tanika, but a few are of Rochelle as well. Then I see ones where she’s showering, and the curtain is not fully shut.

  “Marcus,” Blaze says, holding a photograph of Rochelle standing next to me. My arm’s holding Rochelle possessively, and there’s a look in her eyes that can only be described as love. She doesn’t look at me like that anymore. She looks at me as if I’m a need to be filled.

  She’s lost in a world where I cannot pull her back from.

  “Fuck,” Snow says, moving a photograph on the floor.

  It’s one of Rochelle sleeping. He was inside her house? How the fuck was he in her house? Before I can stop myself, my saw is at Dave’s neck, and as he opens his eyes, I watch as the life drains from them.

  “Fuck. Really, Marcus?” Blaze shakes his head, picking up all the photographs. “Burn these when you burn him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rochelle

  “Oh, look, it’s you again.” I step back, my eyes narrow. Then I realize who it is. It’s hard because I don’t recognize her dressed in clothes.

  The blonde.

  The evil bitch.

  Her cell phone dings, and she looks away from me then looks back with a smile. “Don’t recognize me?” she asks with a hand on her hip.

  Kat looks to us both. I can tell she’s unaware of what’s going on. I should have avoided this place, and from now on I know I will. But our food is on its way, and it’s obvious the bitch works here. Just my luck.

  “And you are?” Kat asks, clearly not happy being interrupted.

  “I’m Marcus’ other girl… hasn’t this one told you?” blonde bitch says.

  “No. No she hasn’t because clearly you aren’t relevant,” Kat fires back.

  The blonde, whatever her name is, which I don’t really care, scrunches up her nose.

  “Well, I was relevant to him the other night.”

  It was two nights ago now, and I haven’t seen Marcus since.

  “My guess is you’re here annoying us right now in an attempt to get Rochelle to bite. For what reason, I don’t know. Maybe you’re jealous? Who knows? But if you don’t go away, I will call your manager and get you the fuck fired,” my sister says, then shoos blonde bitch with her hand, to which she scrunches up her nose and turns, leaving us.

  I smile at Kat, but she doesn’t return it. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, don’t thank me. I want to know everything, and I want to know it now. So spill.”

  I tell her about the blonde bitch, and Kat shakes her head.

  “You didn’t ask him?”

  “No.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I went to yours, then I went to him. Fucked him until I fell asleep.”

  Kat’s hand goes to her mouth and she mumbles something I don’t quite hear. Then she says, “You fucked him? What the fuck is wrong with you? Wake up, Rochelle. Leave that fucking world you’re in and wake the hell up.” Kat stands and grabs my wrist, then starts walking toward the car. We don’t even eat, but she left some money on the table before she dragged me out. We get in her car, and I don’t question when she drives off. Kat stops at the cemetery, and I close my eyes.

  “Oh no, you are getting out. Open those pretty blue eyes and get out.” I hear her door slam, then she walks around to my side, opening the door and reaching in for me.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “No, you’ve been avoiding any sort of feeling. I can tell. Now get out and feel again.”

  I pull my hand back. “I like not feeling, it’s easier.”

  “No, it’s not. Now. Get. Out.” Kat pulls me again until I’m out of the car, then she doesn’t let go as we start walking. It’s not long before the headstone registers in my brain, and I know whose it is straight away.

  My grandparents.

  I collapse to the ground, and tears start almost straight away. I haven’t cried in so long because holding it in feels safer. Kat leaves me there until I can manage to calm my breathing, then she pulls me back up to her. We go to the wall of names. Tanika was cremated, so her plaque is on a wall with a few others, but I spot her name straight away, my fingers roaming over it as the tears blur my vision.

  “You did nothing wrong. Tan had demons she thought she couldn’t live with. She loved you, Rochelle.”

  I nod. I know Tanika loved me. I loved her too. No, love. Still do.

  “I need to do something before I talk myself out of it,” I say, standing and wiping my face.

  “I’ll take you to your car.”

  My hand grips the glass tightly, my breathing picks up as I watch Marcus Stone in action. I can see his skin glistening under the cold night as each stroke grows more powerful, one after the next. My eyes are glued to his body as he comes up for air. His strong jawline opening then closing with each powerful breath.

  How can watching someone swim turn you on?

  I’m not sure, but it can. Somehow it turns me on.

  Bringing the glass to my lips, I take one more drink, finishing the contents and feeling the burn as it goes down. I need the liquid courage. I need it to face him.

  Marcus turns, his strokes finally stop when he looks at me. The light from the kitchen is not helping to obscure me while I sit in the dark, stalking.

  My breathing stops as his two powerful eyes lock on mine, his strong hand lifts and strokes his fingers through his hair. I’m helpless and can’t help but watch as the muscles in his arm flex during the simple action. His hazel eyes narrow in on me.

  “Rochelle…” Marcus says my name as easily as the water drips from his body.

  It makes me even madder.

  The drink in my hand feels like it could smash any second with the pressure I’m applying to the glass. He pushes himself out of the water, his body glistening as he comes to a stand not too far away from m
e. Reaching for a towel, he wipes his body. His hazel eyes, now darkening, lock on me when I don’t answer him.

  “I’m leaving you,” I say with a smile when my breath doesn’t hitch at those words.

  “This is what you want?” Marcus asks.

  No fight.

  No argument.

  Nothing.

  “Yes. I’m leaving you,” I say it more to myself this time. Perhaps to help me believe it.

  He chuckles.

  The asshole chuckles.

  “Off you go, then.”

  With as much strength as I can muster, I throw my glass at him, just missing his head when he ducks out of the way. When he stands taller, I know that was a mistake. But I honestly don’t care. I can’t care anymore.

  Pushing myself up from the lounger where I was reclining while working up the courage to tell him I am leaving, I step forward and come just under his chin.

  Marcus is tall.

  I hate that about him.

  I hate a lot about him.

  But then again, I also don’t.

  “Is that all you’ve got to say?” I arch an eyebrow.

  Marcus arches one back. “Yes.” Then he pushes past me, not caring that he almost knocks me over as he heads inside.

  I follow. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.

  “You sleep with her… when I’m not here… in this house,” I yell.

  He halts, turns, and smirks. “I do,” Marcus says, the towel now dropping. His swimwear is sitting low on his hips. “And I fuck her hard… all the ways you hate and I love.” His lips turn up, waiting for me to say something in return.

  “I hate you,” I spit at him.

  “I know you do.”

  “I hate you sooo much.”

  “That’s okay. You can leave now.”

  “Is she coming over?” I yell.

  Marcus turns, his hand touching the railing that leads up to his room.

  I’ve never really lived here—I was simply a visitor. No one important. Just a person in this man’s life. No one can penetrate him. I feel sorry for the person who finally does get through his impervious walls. They will either be very stupid or love him more than anyone else ever has.