Cruel Lies

by Ella Miles

  I link our fingers together, and then I pull her out of this place of darkness that has caused her so much pain in such little time. I may not know what happened, but at least I can be the one to take her away.

  I watch her closely, looking for any sign of injury as we walk back into town. I find none. Whatever he did to her was mental.

  We walk back into the church. It feels surreal to be standing back in the place where we got married so soon. Then I show her downstairs to where Maxwell is still tied up with a bullet wound in his thigh.

  “You really didn’t kill him,” she says to herself in disbelief at the sight of Maxwell. She lets go of my hand and approaches him.

  I’m not sure what she’s going to do to him. What I didn’t expect to see is her down on her knees next to him, ripping the bottom of her shirt to tie around his leg.

  “I’m going to get you some water and pain killers, and you’ll feel better soon,” she says to him.

  I frown, glaring down at him. I want to put a bullet between the bastard’s eyes, but apparently, we’re bringing him with us.

  “Knife,” Liesel says, holding her hand out to me in an annoying tone.

  I pull out my knife from my boot and hand it to her. She starts working on the pull ties around his wrists.

  “Are you annoyed with me?” I ask.

  “No,” she snaps back.

  I roll my eyes. “So that’s a yes.”

  She cuts the tie, and Maxwell falls forward, barely conscious.

  “Did you really have to shoot him?”

  “Yes, I had to ensure he stayed put and didn’t run to Corbin.”

  “I think the tie was sufficient. You didn’t need to shoot him.” She slips her arm under his shoulder, while I do the same to his other arm and help him up.

  We start walking him up the stairs. “He isn’t a good man. He works for our enemy.”

  “He still didn’t deserve to be shot.”

  She looks at him, and I swear there’s a longing in her eyes when she looks at him, but I’m sure I’m just mistaking it for pity. She doesn’t want Maxwell; she just doesn’t want him dead. At least, not yet.

  I call a cab, and then we all pile in and drive to the private airport. I’m on the phone making arrangements for our flight, while Liesel holds Maxwell in her lap, stroking the golden locks of his hair mindlessly.

  Our pilot asks me where we are flying to. I snap to Liesel. “Where to?”

  I don’t expect her to answer, but she does. “Egypt. I’ll give him the exact coordinates once we get to the airport.”

  I tell my pilot and then sit in silence for the rest of the drive, trying to understand what changed with Liesel between last night and right now.

  We get to the airport, and I pull Maxwell out, carrying him sideways in my arms so Liesel won’t have to touch him. He barely groans as I carry him toward the airplane.

  Once inside, I lie him down on one of the couches at the back.

  Liesel walks up beside me, carrying a first aid kit. “Do you want to do it or should I?’

  I grab the kit out of her hands. I don’t want her touching this guy.

  I set the kit on the floor as I kneel next to him. I pop it open with a thump and begin searching for the items I’m going to need—gauze, tweezers, alcohol, bandages, stitches.

  I go to work on his leg like he’s a member of my team—not the enemy he is. I’m so focused on getting the job done quickly and cleanly that I don’t notice Liesel holding his hand.

  My eyes keep cutting to their joined hands. I want to rip her hands from his and suck every finger clean of the mere touch of him. I don’t because I don’t want to deepen our fight.

  “I’m finished,” I say, basically clearing my throat in a grumbled, grumpy way to get Liesel to stop touching Maxwell.

  She doesn’t immediately let go of his hand. Instead, she digs through the first aid kit until she finds a bottle of pills. Popping the lid off, she pours a couple into her hand and then puts them in Maxwell’s mouth.

  “These will ease the pain and help you sleep,” she says to him before holding up some water to his lips. He sips the water, barely conscious. The pills will knock him out. He won’t feel any of the pain within minutes. It’s too kind if you ask me.

  Maxwell’s eyes flutter closed, and only then does she let go of his hand.

  “Why are you being so nice to him?” I ask.

  She purses her lips, looking at Maxwell like she has a pull to him that even she herself doesn’t understand. “I don’t know, really. It just feels like the right thing to do.”

  I hate her answer, but I’m not going to fight with her about it. Maxwell will meet his demise soon enough. I start walking a couple of rows up and take a seat. I don’t want to look or think about the bastard.

  “What are we going to do about Corbin?” Liesel asks, sitting down next to me.

  “I already have Enzo and Zeke looking for him.”

  She smiles. “You forgave them already?”

  I growl.

  She smirks and takes my hand in hers. The same hand that was just holding that monster’s.

  I remove my hand from her grasp and look out the window, annoyed with her already. This is why we would never work out.

  “Don’t—don’t be like that. I don’t care about Maxwell. I just think we should keep him alive and taken care of until we figure out how to use him to get to Corbin and save the child he’s taken, that’s all.”

  “I say we kill him. Corbin will come after us for revenge if he cares about the bastard at all.”

  She frowns. “I’d rather not piss Corbin off and risk our lives for nothing.”

  She’s soft on Maxwell. She cares about him. And she’s not a killer—that’s my job.

  “We can’t keep him around forever. At some point, we have to take a stand.”

  “I know, and I think we should after we have the treasure.”

  I disagree with her, but there is no point arguing right now. All I did was stitch Maxwell up and keep him alive until we get to our next stop, where I’ll once again have to tie him up and disable him while we go in search of the treasure. It’s actually kinder to just kill him now.

  “Look at me,” Liesel says.

  I take a deep breath and then turn and face her. I’m annoyed with her about how she’s handling Maxwell. I’m frustrated that she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me what she had to do to earn our next clue. But when I look into her big hazel eyes that hold the weight of the world—all of that vanishes. In her eyes, I see something I’ve never seen before staring back at me—an emotion that neither of us can describe with words.

  She runs her tongue over her teeth as she climbs on top of my lap until she’s straddling me in my chair.

  “Kiss me,” she says with a longing to her voice. She thinks I won’t kiss her.

  I don’t hesitate—I grab the back of her neck and pull her down until her soft lips touch mine. I just had her last night, but that seems like a lifetime away. The bitterness that I felt melts away with a single kiss.

  “I needed that,” I say when she pulls back.

  “I need more.”

  She reaches between the seats and flicks the lever that dips the seat back. Her eyes ignite with a burning desire as she rips her tank top off her body until two peaks are staring back at me.

  My head darts behind me to where Maxwell is hopefully asleep and not looking at my topless wife.

  “What are you doing?”

  She grins as she undoes the button on my jeans. “Fucking you.”

  “You can’t—Maxwell is three rows behind us. The pilots—”

  “Are you my husband?”

  “Yes…”

  “Then fuck me. I don’t care about anyone else on this plane. I need you.”

  Fuck me.

  She doesn’t wait for my answer. Her hand slips into my pants, taking complete control.

  “Don’t.” I grip her wrist, stopping her.

  “Why?�
� Her eyes sear, demanding this.

  “I’m angry.”

  “So?”

  “Maxwell could wake up and see you.”

  “He won’t.”

  Her lips come down hard on mine, clinging to me like I’m the only thing in her world. “I need you.”

  “I’m yours,” I concede.

  Her next moves are frantic, crazed as she moves quickly to undo my pants. I match her frenzied state, unbuttoning her shorts off just as quickly.

  I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know what she did, what she gave up to get the next clue. I do know it was painful, though. And I will do anything to take away her pain.

  She kicks her shorts off and angles me between her legs, straddling me again.

  I move to reach for a condom in my pocket, but she’s already sliding down on my cock. I don’t give a damn if I get her pregnant. Kids I’m good with. And if she wants to have my babies, I’ll give her as many as she wants. What’s most important now is giving her all of myself without any barriers.

  I thrust up as she slides her hips down over my cock—up and down like she’s sprinting, trying to chase an orgasm that will escape her if she doesn’t find it quickly. I don’t know why she feels the need to rush, but I match her speed, not questioning her.

  I tug her nipple into my mouth that’s been bouncing at eye level as she grasps onto my hair, giving her more grip to fuck me harder.

  “That’s it, baby, get it all out. Fuck the pain away.”

  I grab her hips and lift her up and down, helping her move as quickly as her body demands her. Helping her to chase away her fears.

  Harder.

  Faster.

  Deeper.

  I thrust into her. I focus on giving her all the pleasure in the world—thrusting deeper into her cunt, lapping at her swollen nipples, pinching her sensitive clit. I don’t even realize I’m on the edge of coming until she’s exploding around my cock, and I shoot my cum inside her.

  She breathes deeply as I grip her hips. Her head falls forward against my chest, and she inhales and exhales sharply.

  I stroke her hair, letting her have a moment to feel and breathe normally again. Her breathing does slow, but her eyes close as she falls asleep against my chest.

  I shake my head as I lift her gently in my arms. I find a blanket a couple of rows up and drape it over us. Both of us are half-naked and my cum is sticking to her thighs, but none of that matters as she sleeps in my arms.

  “What happened to you, baby?” I whisper into her hair, devastated by whatever it is she went through.

  I close my eyes and tug her tighter to my body, kissing her hair. How does she feel so perfect in my arms?

  “I lov—” I start and then stop myself. I run my hand through my hair, scolding myself for the almost slip.

  It was just reflex. I don’t love her. The only problem is I don’t know if I’m lying to myself or finally admitting the truth.

  21

  Liesel

  I wake up as the plane lands; our rough landing jars me awake.

  I blink several times, trying to remember where I am and what’s happening. Then I breathe in Langston—his musky smell mixed with sweat and sex. I smile and snuggle into his chest.

  “You’re going to have to wake up and get dressed, baby.”

  Get dressed?

  I take an assessment of my body and realize I’m naked except for the blanket covering me. Langston is naked, too, lying underneath me. And then I remember fucking him—how desperately and furiously I fucked him with everything in my body, unsure if it would be our last.

  Betray him.

  My heart begins to crumble just thinking about hurting Langston. I’m going to blast both of our hearts into a thousand pieces when I betray him. I’ve been cruel to Langston before but never when he was mine. I don’t know how I’m going to go through with it.

  Langston lifts me up so he can search my eyes. He knows that something is up with me. He just thinks it’s something I’ve already done, not something I’m going to do.

  If he didn’t already hate me, if we didn’t have a history of lying to each other, if we loved each other, then maybe we could survive my betrayal, especially once he realizes that I only did it to get the treasure and protect Atlas.

  But we don’t love each other. We never will. Our marriage will end with my betrayal.

  I force myself to smile and kiss Langston gently on the lips before I climb off his lap and find my clothes in a pile. I start putting my jean shorts and tank top back on, peering through the aisle back to a still sleeping Maxwell. His chest rises and falls, so I know he’s still alive.

  Langston gets dressed beside me as well.

  “What’s the plan?” I ask.

  “It’s dark, so we should head to a hotel to sleep for the night. Tomorrow we can go in search of the next clue.”

  I nod.

  He gets up and walks to the back to wake Maxwell. He says something, and Maxwell pops up.

  Langston gathers a few things in the back before walking back to me. He has a gun in his hand that he holds out to me. I take it and tuck it into the back of my shorts.

  Langston nods his approval.

  “Follow me, we have a car waiting.”

  I stand and follow him through the aisle and out of the plane. As I walk, I hear footsteps behind me.

  “Are you feeling better, Max?” I ask, without turning my head.

  “Good as new.”

  I smile.

  Langston growls, irritated with me for talking to Maxwell. The easiest way to betray Langston is by fucking Maxwell. Maxwell is good looking enough. He’s injured, and Langston already thinks I have a thing for him. It would be easy to make him believe that. I’m just not sure I’m strong enough to do it.

  My mind is spinning with how I could pull it off, how I could use Maxwell to hurt Langston as I follow Langston down the stairs. A flood of anxiety rattles through my chest, shaking me with every fucked up thought I have of kissing Maxwell, sucking his cock, letting him touch me—all so I can hurt Langston.

  I try to think of all the reactions Langston could have. Him yelling, beating Maxwell until he’s dead, or just wordlessly walking out and sending me the divorce papers later. I don’t know which is worse.

  “Wait,” Maxwell says suddenly, before we step into our waiting SUV.

  His words barely register in my whirling head.

  Langston understands the single word, though. He pulls his gun out and starts firing before anyone fires at us.

  I duck down and grab my gun, watching as bullets whizz by my head.

  “Huntress!” I hear Langston shout. His voice is far away. I can’t hear him. I don’t see him.

  I shoot in the direction the bullets are flowing from, but I can’t make out who’s shooting.

  And then I see a bullet coming straight for me. I try to flatten myself out—it’s all I can do in the fraction of a second I have to react before it hits me.

  A body hits me instead—Maxwell.

  He groans from the bullet lodging in his wrist as he pushes me out of the way.

  Suddenly, the bullets stop.

  Maxwell hovers over me, still trying to protect me.

  I knew there was a reason to keep him alive. I just don’t know why he saved me.

  I look around the tarmac, but I don’t see Langston.

  A man appears, standing less than ten feet away from me in suit pants, a jacket, and an unbuttoned collar without a tie. His hair is slicked back with a few gray strands. He looks so similar to Waylon that I know who he is at once.

  “Corbin Brown,” I say as I stand.

  Maxwell stands, too, cradling his bleeding wrist.

  “What do you want?” I demand.

  “I thought my letter made my demands clear.”

  My eyes scan the tarmac until I spot a body lying face-first on the ground.

  No!

  Corbin laughs, drawing my attention back to him. “Don’t worry,
your husband isn’t dead. Just knocked out.”

  I don’t react. I don’t want Corbin to think he can use Langston to control me in any way. He already has a child he can use to do that. He doesn’t need Langston.

  “If you think I care about him, you haven’t studied me very well. I only married him to get the treasure. I was about to marry Maxwell; Langston just ended up being closer.”

  Corbin’s dark eyes glance from me to Langston, trying to decide if I’m lying or not.

  “I don’t have the treasure yet,” I say.

  “I know. I’m here to ensure you give it to me when you do.”

  I see Langston stirring out of the corner of my eye. A man stands over him with a gun pointed at his head.

  I have to save him. How?

  Maxwell is still standing to my left. He protected me from a stray bullet. He seems on our side. And as soon as Langston comes to, he’ll try to fight. I have to protect him.

  “I may not care about Langston, but you can’t kill him. I have to remain married to him to complete the clues to get the treasure,” I say, demanding that Corbin not harm Langston.

  “I wasn’t planning on killing him.”

  “Then, why are you here? You sent your minion to watch over us while we got the treasure. You kidnapped my child to ensure my cooperation. I’ll give you the treasure; I just need more time.”

  Corbin’s eyes run up and down my body, telling me exactly what he wants in addition to the treasure—me. I know exactly what I have to do to earn a little of Corbin’s trust while destroying Langston’s. Somehow, I have to use this opportunity to get the upper hand on Corbin.

  I give him a wicked smile back as I run my tongue over my bottom lip slowly. Then I bite it as I sway my hips and start walking toward him. I rake my eyes over his body, pretending he’s the hottest man I know.

  When I reach him, he sucks in a breath, not expecting my reaction.

  “I loved Waylon. It may have started off as him blackmailing me, but I fell for him. I always fall for the bad guys, the villains. I prefer the darkness to the light. I’m sure I could fall for you too.” I pause, digging my nails into his chest. “If you want me, all you have to do is ask.” And tell me where you’re keeping an innocent child.