Cruel Lies

by Ella Miles

  I politely drink the stuff even though I don’t like the taste. I have no idea what awaits me. No idea what task I’m going to have to do.

  “Tell me everything you are feeling,” she says.

  I frown. I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Um…” I rub the back of my head. “I’m feeling confused, tired, angry, sad, frustrated.” Horny—I don’t say the last one.

  She nods and gives me an encouraging smile as if I should say more.

  But what should I say? I don’t know what answer she’s looking for or why this turned into a therapy session.

  “I’m feeling hopeless, lonely, lost, heartbroken, miserable.”

  “Liesel hurt you.”

  I nod; she has no idea how much.

  “Do you want to divorce her?” she asks.

  “No,” I say automatically. I want the opposite of a divorce. I want Liesel to be bound to me forever.

  She doesn’t react to my answer. I don’t know if I gave the correct answer or the wrong one.

  “Do you hate her?”

  “Yes, but—” I cut myself off; I can’t finish that sentence out loud.

  She nods as if she understands.

  “Do you forgive her?”

  I blink at her, realization hitting me like a bus all at once. Liesel didn’t do something to get a clue in Peru. She had to do something in order to earn this one. She had to hurt me, be unfaithful to me, break me, and she did.

  “Yes.” I forgive her. I already did before I even knew why she did it. That’s why I was so frustrated with her—as much as I keep trying to hate her, I can’t.

  Ramla gives me a slow smile, before reaching into her pocket and sliding an envelope toward me on the table.

  I put my hand on the envelope and slide it toward me.

  “Be careful. There is a lot more darkness and danger coming your way. More tests to prove that your love can endure anything. Don’t lose sight of what’s important on the way to riches,” she says.

  “Thank you,” I say as I tuck the envelope into my pocket before standing to return to Liesel.

  She’s still sitting in the same chair where I left her, sipping her tea like it’s the only thing keeping her alive, which is probably true. I don’t see any signs that she vomited again, so hopefully, she’s starting to feel better.

  She looks up at me with giant, expressive eyes screaming of her shame and fear.

  Oh, my huntress, you have no idea how much I’m still yours. How I’ll always be yours.

  I reach down, and she flinches.

  I deserve that after how I’ve treated her. She doesn’t even realize that all I want to do is hold her hand.

  I try again, this time making my intentions more clear as I take her hand.

  “Did you get what we need?” she asks, looking behind me for Ramla.

  “Yes,” I say, and then I lead her out back to the car parked on the side of the street. I put her in the passenger seat next to me before hopping into the driver’s seat and driving us away. I don’t know where I’m heading, just that I need a safe place where we can talk.

  Thankfully, Liesel doesn’t talk, and she no longer seems sick—the pink has returned to her cheeks, and her eyes no longer look hollow as I drive.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been driving or why I stop, but it feels like the right place. There are no cars around, no people, just what looks to be some Egyptian ruins. Nothing big or grand like some of the more well-known places, but a few stones and an archway.

  I climb out of the car and take Liesel’s hand once again and lead her into the ruins.

  “Sorry, maybe I should have taken you somewhere to get some food,” I say, realizing my mistake.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.”

  I open my mouth to say the words I’m desperate to say—I love you. But I snap my mouth shut again, knowing those words will just make everything worse. Instead, I say the next best thing.

  “I forgive you, not that there is anything to forgive.”

  She gasps and blinks rapidly, trying to pull her hand free of mine. “You can’t.”

  “I do. That’s why I was so upset, not at you, at myself for wanting you no matter how much you hurt me.”

  She steps back.

  I step into her space, my predatory stare boring into her. “But there was nothing to forgive, was there? You were told to hurt me. That was the only way we would get the next clue.”

  A tear slips from her eye as she nods. “Yes.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

  I swipe the tear off her cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were given a task, and you did it. If the roles were reversed, I would have done the same thing.”

  “But I chose Corbin…I chose the worst thing I could think of to hurt you.”

  I shake my head. “You made the best out of a bad situation. Corbin trusts you now. He thinks you hate me, that you will do anything he asks just to ruin me.”

  “But I almost got us killed. I put you through so much pain. I made you watch while he fucked me.”

  “No!” my voice booms, halting her ramble.

  I pull her into my arms, until our bodies are pressed together. “I didn’t let Corbin fuck you. I couldn’t. Maxwell couldn’t either. We fought our way out of there.”

  “Maxwell helped you?”

  “Turns out your instincts were right. I’m pretty sure Maxwell is a good guy.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Hiding, Corbin won’t forgive his brother easily. But you don’t have to worry about Corbin hurting the child he has; he thinks you are going to betray me to help him. You played your role well.”

  “Thank you for saving me. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if he fucked me—I’m yours either way. But thank you,” she says.

  I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

  “Don’t fucking thank me for claiming what’s mine.”

  Then I tilt her head back and kiss her. We are standing in the middle of ancient ruins, in the middle of the desert, with no one around, and it feels like we are on top of the world. This kiss says I’m sorry, you’re forgiven, and I love you more than any words ever could.

  I don’t know how I’m ever going to stop kissing her, but before I have to worry about that, I feel wetness hit my lips. Her tears have rolled down her cheeks and landed on both of our lips.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “You were supposed to hate me.”

  I frown, not understanding.

  “Promise me you hate me.” She shakes me, demanding for me to hate her.

  “I hate you,” I lie. It’s one of the most obvious lies I’ve ever said. I don’t hate her. There is nothing that could make me hate her. Nothing.

  27

  Liesel

  I’m going to end up hurting Langston worse now. If he can’t hate me for what I’ve done, then he’s never going to hate me. In fact, there’s a chance he loves me. That would be the thing that ends up killing him.

  “Show me how much you hate me,” I say.

  “I hate you so much.”

  He grabs my thighs and lifts me up until my legs are around his waist as he kisses my lips again, stealing my breath, my pain, my fear. He consumes everything as his tongue bursts between my lips, commanding everything. My hands grip his head as he carries me toward a stone wall with hieroglyphics on the side.

  “I hate you so much that I want to fuck you until your body realizes my cock is the only cock for you.”

  His eyes sear into mine, and I know he’s serious, just not about the hate you part. He’s saying one thing, but it’s almost as if the way he says hate he means love.

  My ass hits the top of the broken wall as he moves between my legs. I’ve never wanted or needed him more than I do right now. I need him to heal the chasm between us. I need to know that all the pain we endured and are going to endure is worth it.

  His hand slides up my stomach underneath my shirt until he finds the point o
f a nipple. He squeezes, sending delicious currents through my body, familiar wetness spreading between my legs at the single touch. He knows my body better than I know it myself.

  “I hate you more than I hate my father,” he says.

  I love you more than I hate my father.

  I grab his shirt, lifting it off his body and throwing it down onto the sand. He frantically does the same with my tank top. He looks over my naked top half before he leans down and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, biting down hard enough to punish me for letting other men look at my body, touch my body.

  “I hate you more than I hated Waylon,” I say.

  I love you more than I hated Waylon.

  He growls at my words and kisses hungrily down my stomach as he undoes my shorts.

  My hands find the front of his pants, and I start undoing them. I shove them down hard at the same time he rips my shorts from my body.

  “I hate you more than I hate Corbin for touching you,” he says.

  I love you more than I hate Corbin for touching you.

  And then he storms inside me in one long thrust, claiming every inch of my pussy. He doesn’t stop to sheath himself with a condom. He doesn’t stop to see if I’m ready. He just claims me.

  “Killer!” I scream for the whole world to hear. A single word claims him as mine, just like he did me with his thrust.

  In our world, getting married isn’t enough. Loving someone isn’t enough. The only way to keep someone is to do it over and over and over.

  He fucks me like an animal. I claw at him like a raven ripping apart its food.

  Every thrust inside me is deep, all the way to my cervix. He relentlessly pounds into me, and I want it all.

  Every time I fuck Langston, I think it could be the last, and this time is no different. I desperately cling to every moment for as long as I can.

  We fuck frantically like we are running out of time to be together. We are. We could have seconds, minutes, days, weeks, years. Our time together is ending, just as it’s finally beginning.

  I try to hold off my orgasm, not ready for this time to end, but I can’t.

  “Langston!” I yell as I come undone. I lose all of my senses as the universe shatters around me.

  I don’t know if Langston comes or not until I come back down to earth. I smile at his grin and feel his cum dripping down my thigh.

  I shiver, and he cradles me in his arms as we sink to the sand, both of us still naked as we lean into each other’s arms against the ancient stones.

  “I have a question for you,” I say.

  “Same. You go first.” Langston strokes my hair as I lean my head on his shoulder.

  “Why did you want to kill me?”

  He stiffens. “Atlas was really sick.”

  “What?” I interrupt him.

  He frowns as his thumb strokes my face. “He was sick. He isn’t anymore.”

  I exhale.

  “His adoptive parents at the time contacted you for help. They didn’t have the money or resources to get him help. And if he was going to die, they thought you might want to say goodbye.”

  I scrunch my nose, completely confused by why he would want to kill me. But I’m also heartbroken that Atlas was so ill.

  “They said you refused them. You refused them money. You refused to help with treatment. You refused to see him.”

  I swallow the pain.

  “I hated you for it, hated you for leaving your son to die.” He pauses. “But looking at you now, I’m not sure how much I know is true.”

  I blink back tears. He hated me because he thought I would just let my son die. I regret asking my question now, but I need to know what his question is.

  “What was your question?”

  His thumb traces the outline of my collarbone. “Well, now, I have two. One is, did you know that Atlas was sick? And two…” I can hear the pain and frustration in his voice. “Are you pregnant now?”

  I can understand why he’s conflicted if he thinks I would abandon my son; he’s not sure he wants me to be pregnant now. And yet, he’s not sure any of it is true. If it’s not true, he’s hated me and wanted me dead this long all for nothing.

  I don’t need a test to tell me if I’m pregnant or not.

  I know how I should answer about whether or not I knew Atlas was sick and in trouble.

  One will be the truth. The other will be a lie. Both will hurt him.

  28

  Langston

  Waiting for her to answers seems like a millennium.

  I suspect she might be pregnant, although, I don’t know when she would have had time to take a pregnancy test, so it’s really not a fair question. But she’s been throwing up, and I’ve fucked her numerous times now without a condom or any other form of protection. It’s a real possibility.

  It’s also a possibility that she just has food poisoning or hasn’t eaten in a while and got motion sickness.

  Still, she’s constantly hiding things from me, and I want to know if I’m about to become a father again.

  Liesel looks stunned sitting in my lap, like I just spilled a world of secrets onto her lap. That’s why I’m not worried about hating her anymore. I will never hate her again. She didn’t know about Atlas—that much I’m certain about.

  “If you need me to take you to a pharmacy to get a pregnancy test, I can,” I offer.

  She shakes her head. “No, I already know.”

  My heart stops.

  I love kids. This is the moment I become a father, again. And this time, I’ll get to be there every step of the way.

  She looks up at me like she knows she’s about to break my heart. “I’m not pregnant.”

  My heart rattles around in my chest, not believing her words. But before I can call her out for lying, she continues.

  “And I knew.” She runs her hands through her hair in anguish. “I knew there was no way I could save him. No money in the world would be enough for his treatments. And me being in his life would only cause him to be hunted by my enemies, so I stayed away. I thought the kind thing to do was to let him die.”

  I stand to my feet, throwing her to the ground. “You were wrong. Atlas could’ve been saved. He’s well now because I did what it took to save him. I found a treatment when there was none. I didn’t give up on him.”

  Tears roll down her cheeks as my fury explodes at her.

  How could she be so cruel? So heartless?

  I’m steaming. I can’t look at her. I march around the grounds, still naked, trying to reconcile everything I know about her.

  Liesel is manipulative. She’s controlling. And she has one mission in her life. She wouldn’t let us give up on a child who wasn’t even hers; there is no way she would have given up on Atlas, her own flesh and blood.

  Something doesn’t add up.

  She wants me to hate her.

  She’s trying to force me into hating her.

  It’s not going to work, not this time.

  I march back toward her, where she’s crumpled into a naked, broken ball on the ground. Sand sticks to her skin. She looks hopeless and in pain.

  Without a word, I scoop her back into my arms. She tries to fight me, tries to get me to let her go. I don’t.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m putting you back in the car, driving you to a hotel room where I’m going to clean you off, fuck some sense into you, and then hate you for the rest of my life!”

  Her eyes narrow, looking up at me in complete confusion. She knows every time I’ve said the word hate, I mean the word love. It’s a word I can never speak out loud, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling it.

  “I hate you, too,” she whispers.

  Her head falls against my chest, relenting to me. She’s given up trying to protect me by getting me to hate her. I know a world of suffering awaits us, a pain like neither of us have ever felt before. But that’s not going to stop me from loving her.

  I kick up our clothes from the ground with my h
and before carrying her back to the car. I pull my shirt down over her body and slip my jeans back on before I start driving us to the nearest hotel room I can find.

  The hotel room isn’t much, but we just need some place to clean up, fuck, and regroup. We can’t stay here; it’s not safe.

  I carry her inside the room and examine it. It isn’t much more than four walls, a bed, a toilet, and a hose hanging from the ceiling that can be used as a shower, but it will do.

  I carry her straight to the shower, strip her shirt off, remove my pants, and then turn on the water. It’s freezing cold, as I expected, but we are both in too much pain to feel it.

  I claim her mouth with mine, once again possessing her.

  “Your pain is mine; stop hiding it from me,” I say, kissing her under the stream.

  “It’s not my pain I’m worried about.”

  “Stop suffering because you’re afraid to hurt me. Stop lying and hurting me now to prevent future pain. I want the truth, not the lies.”

  She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I’m saying I’m yours as much as you are mine. I’m saying I’ll hate you forever, and nothing you say can change that.”

  I kiss down her body, stopping at her stomach that looks swollen to me, but it’s probably my imagination. She said she isn’t pregnant.

  But she lied—about hurting Atlas or about being pregnant or both?

  Liesel grabs my arms, shaking me fiercely under the water. “Hate me! Hate me for real. I need it to be real.” She bites down on my bottom lip, then slaps me. She’s flailing desperately for me to truly hate her. She’s purposefully trying to be cruel. But I see her clearly for the first time. I may not know all of her secrets, but I know her heart. Everything she’s ever done is to protect her son.

  She’s the opposite of cruel. She is beauty and strength and all good things in the world. I’m the stupid idiot who ever thought differently of her. I just don’t know why she’s so desperate to add me to the list of people she wants to protect. Why does she think me loving her is going to hurt me?

  I decide we aren’t leaving this room until she gives me an answer.