Web of Lies

by Elizabeth Knox

  “God, I fucking missed you.” His voice is low and full of longing, and it hurts to hear the words he has to say. “You ignored me. I called and called, and you sent me to voicemail every time. If it weren’t for Dax insisting I give you space, I would have been breaking your damn door down.”

  Dax chuckles. Ace became more adamant on the last part so Dax could hear.

  Aysen’s head lifts to glare at Dax, “Why did you make her cry?”

  “She’s not crying,” Dax’s amusement relieves me.

  “Yeah, yeah. That’s bull crap.”

  I smile though they can’t see my face and wriggle around until Ace releases me. I never ever admit that I cry. I position myself between the two boys who loved me more than anyone and reassure them, “It’s just a little leak.”

  “Well, are you leaking because you missed our faces, or is it because you see our faces?” Relentless Aysen isn’t pleased until he gets to the bottom of everything. We’re on the verge of broaching my self-proclaimed taboo subject.

  Sensing my anxiety, Dax walks passed me and hit’s Aysen on the shoulder. “Maybe it’s because our faces are just so damn good looking, they bring tears to her eyes.”

  Aysen cocks his head to the side, fully aware Dax is covering for me. Aysen stares me down, making me uncomfortable and way too heated for someone who is standing outside in the frigid winter weather. “Go inside, Dax. Get us some real coffee and Hailee’s frilly mocha shit.”

  My eyes flick to Dax, who simply gives me a reassuring smile and disappears into The Sip. The absence of the buffer, speeded up the reaction and before the explosion I dodge, “Frilly mocha shit? Stop acting like you don’t switch our cups halfway through the—”

  “Shut up, Hailee.” I wince at the anger in Aysen’s voice. “Thirty-nine days, fourteen hours, and twenty-one minutes!”

  Okay, that was an intense countdown. I barely have time to register my thought before he charges forward, shocking me in the process. He fastens his hands around my upper arms, and tugs me forward, holding me in place as he gets ready to unleash on me.

  “That’s how long you had to answer my calls! All 96 of them.” I shake my head, wanting to stop the pain I sensed in his words, but he refused to hear me out. “No! You don’t get to try and dodge this. You ignored me, Hails! Daxton, had to talk me out of driving over here every single time the damn machine asked me to leave a voicemail. I left tons of them, pleading for you to call me back. Or, at least to call Daxton. It took me two weeks to figure out you probably weren’t even listening to my messages. So, I started texting you, but you never answered.”

  I knew this would come. This very confrontation. I want to duck away somewhere, but they’d never let me get away. “I—”

  “No! I’m not done!” He releases me with such force I stumble back a little. “You didn’t even see the messages.” He shakes his head in disbelief, not wanting to believe the truth. “But you read Dax’s!” A miserable expression graces his face during the brief moment of silence. “After that night, after everything . . . What the fuck, Hailee?”

  And there it is, the reason why trio relationships aren’t meant to be. Equal distribution of all things; love, communication, time. Dax didn’t seem as bothered by all of this, but Aysen paid attention, a lot more than Dax did.

  “Aysen, I didn’t answer either of you. Dax just sent me messages to check-in and make sure I was alive. The tidbits of messages I did see in my notifications, were enough to know—“

  “To know what, Hails? That I missed you? That I have never gone more than two days without seeing you, or more than a day without hearing your voice? I thought you’d be stubborn. I thought you’d hold out on us, and shy away from what all three of us know you want, but I never thought you’d be a bitch.”

  “That isn’t fair.”

  “No? Why not? Seems completely fair, since you saw how much your distance hurt me, and you didn’t care enough to bend a little.”

  “I couldn’t!” I shout so he would shut up for a moment. “Aysen, if I read how much you missed me, or your pleas for me to talk to you, or how you could still feel me pulsate against your tongue, you’d weaken my resolve. You blame me, I get it. But, you should be blaming your stupid, get to the point asshole tendencies.”

  “I’m the asshole?”

  “Yes, because you know me more than your dick. And that’s saying a lot since, you and he got very well acquainted during puberty and have grown fonder of each other.”

  “Funny.” He smirks, but there’s not enough smile in his gesture to sway him from continuing this argument.

  So, I cave. “I didn’t answer because just the few words that popped in my notifications tortured me. If I read them, I would give in. I always have. You know that.”

  “I thought I knew everything about you; what you wanted, what you hated, how you’d react. Apparently, I don’t know you as well as I thought.”

  “Don’t you come trying to manipulate me, Aysen Decker Forte.” I jab my finger into his hard chest. “Making me feel guilty isn’t going to work because I already feel that way.” Guilty for New Year’s, guilty for pulling a mom and abandoning them, guilty for not wanting to be tied to my family forever. There’s plenty of guilt flowing through my veins, evoking more won’t tip me over the edge.

  He removes my finger, holding it in the air and leaning in close. “I don’t manipulate you.”

  I smack my lips together and raise my brows. He can’t really expect me to fall for that. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but anything you and Dax ask, I do. Even if it’s something I don’t want to do.”

  “Like what? We’ve never made you do anything you didn’t like.” I’ve finally gotten through to him; there’s doubt in his question.

  Wait. Aysen is clever. It's not doubt, it’s manipulation. He’s veering the conversation towards our torrid night. “Anything Dragon related I do because of you and Dax.”

  “Stop fooling yourself. You do it because it’s an obligation. You can’t distance yourself from the Dragons, Hailee . . . Not safely.”

  “Can you blame me for trying?”

  “Yes. I can.” His tone is bitter and cold as if my distance has detached him from me.

  Dax chooses that exact moment to come out of The Sip. He takes one look at our posture and rolls his eyes. “Really, Aysen? I leave you alone with her for a few minutes, and you already have her wanting to run from us . . . Again.”

  Aysen doesn’t particularly enjoy his comment. He makes no effort to face Dax, only glares in my direction. “Well, that’s one luxury she no longer has.”

  I don’t know whether his words are meant to threaten me, or convey his sorrow for the fact, but they do both successfully. There’s no more running from the Dragons, or Dax and Aysen. The five weeks of freedom I’ve been allotted have come to an end, and my parole officers are here to take me back to my prison.

  Daxton hands me my girl drink— I eagerly take it, staring at it so I don’t have to focus on the guys before me. My attention is interrupted when, without warning, Aysen snatches my cup from me and takes a sip. My eyes fly up to meet his, and there, I find a tinge of softness, apologizing for lashing out. I shrug, granting him the forgiveness he seeks, and he hands me back his nonmocha coffee. The exchange indicates a sort of normalcy I hadn’t realized I was missing.

  We walk the short distance to the parking lot when I spot Aysen’s Jaguar Coupe, pretentiously parked horizontally, occupying 3 spots.

  I roll my eyes, not only because he’s crazy about that car, but because it’s a two-seater. I spot and point to the car that Daxton barely fits in. “Not the most brilliant idea.”

  “To be fair, we didn’t think you would agree to come.” It’s Daxton who answers me first.

  “I insisted you didn’t have a choice, so Daxton brought his bike.”

  Daxton bends at the waist to kiss me on the cheek, then jogs across the lot to his bike, shouting back to us. “See you at The Den.”

&nb
sp; Again, I’m alone with a sourly Aysen, who places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me towards the car. He opens the door for me, reaches in and fastens my seatbelt before shutting the door and situating himself in the seat next to me. For a long while, the drive is beautifully silent, and I fill my head with nothingness. I think my silence startles Aysen because he keeps glancing over at me, making sure I am okay.

  He does it so many times I finally snap. “I’m fine!” We lock eyes. I’m unable to hide the frustration mixed with sorrow in them.

  “Are you? Because you look like you are blaming me for taking you back.”

  “I’m not.” Not really. I flip my head to the side, gazing out the window to avoid his scrutiny. “I’m adjusting.”

  “You’ve been adjusting since Hannah died. It’s time you accept it. You, running away from all this, is only going to bring trouble.”

  No one wants to say, going to get me killed, but we both think it in the moment of silence that follows.

  He breaks the quiet, “I know you want normal, Hails. But you can’t have that. And to be honest, I don’t know if I would ever be able to let you. Being normal means leaving us, pursuing a life outside of The Den.” He grips the wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.

  “You mean, outside of you and Dax?”

  He takes his eyes off the road and plants them on me, “You make it seem like it would be easy for you. It would kill us.”

  “Dax understands.” The moment the words slip out, I regret them.

  He laughs while shaking his head, but it’s one of those laughs that make you worry about the words that will follow it. I anticipate, quickly bracing myself for another lashing out. Useless, because Aysen still manages to catch me off guard. “The only reason Dax lets you dream and believe it’s possible, is because he knows it’s impossible. He would never encourage your distance if he thought it was a possibility.”

  “That’s not true, Ace.”

  “Yes, it is.” He balances his attention between the road and me. “Daxton listens to you, and maybe he even understands where you are coming from, because he knows you need it. But me? I will never sugar coat anything.” A wicked smile appears on his lips. “I will never lie to you just to make you feel better, but I will tell you the truth and guide you in the direction that will keep you safe. Leaving the Dragons isn’t that direction.”

  “You act like I don’t know that.”

  “I don’t think you do!” His full attention is back on me. I point towards the road, but he grabs my finger and tightly grips it. “Stop using the escape as a backup plan.”

  Ugh. Why are they always touching me all of a sudden? It just complicates things.

  I dislodge my finger from his hold and add some distance between us by scooting to the edge of my seat. Aysen’s angry eyes reluctantly abandon their stare on me and return to the road.

  “You know your father is still looking for your mother, right? It’s been seven years, and he’s still hunting her down. I don’t want that for you. I love you too much to be the Dragon who kills you, but I love you enough to be the one who burns your dreams to a crisp.”

  “How chivalrous of you.” My snarky comment eases the tension, even though it isn’t meant to. I take the reprieve. We’re in too small a space to have it filled with anger. “So, what does the council want anyway?”

  “They said Ryder’s relocation created an opportunity.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” In my life, opportunity means something that will definitely bring trouble.

  “Neither do I. They wouldn’t tell us anything else until we went to get you. So, whatever it is . . .”

  “Is going to suck.” He doesn’t confirm anything. “I thought they were going to start training.”

  “I think they are, but maybe a little differently than usual.” He slows the car to a rolling stop, right in front of The Den and parks.

  The building is adorned with just the right amount of beauty that will attract the high scale, but not too lavish to scare off the poorer population. Inside, there are three floors to appeal to all different types of people, and three off-limit floors, which include two basement levels, and the attic. All council meetings are held in the attic, while all sketchy things are done in the basement.

  The Dragons aren’t an inclusive bunch; they are mean, pretentious, downright ruthless and unwelcoming. Outsiders are not to be trusted, mostly for protection purposes to avoid infiltration by feds or rival gangs.

  The Dragons aren’t a gang, per se. They are so much worse, they’re a dynasty. Being a Dragon is a birthright, where you are born a Dragon and die a Dragon. It’s a privilege and a curse, kind of like a modern-day evil monarchy with three rulers. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want the crown or the title, it’s your duty, and you only have two options— accept it and live or deny it and die.

  Daxton and Aysen, both place a hand on my lower back and lead me towards the embellished doors of The Den and towards the back where they key in the code for elevator access. Once we’re inside the elevator, the boys feel secure enough to remove their hands from my lower back. Dax presses the intercom button, and a red light on the camera turns on. Within seconds we are on our way up.

  The doors open, allowing us access to the top level. All three members of the Council were out on the main floor, sitting at the long table.

  “Hailee,” my father, the Charmer, addresses me. “Never again go this long without returning to The Den.”

  “Father,” I acknowledge him with just as much reproach. No use in warming up to him, he’s going to chastise a little while longer until someone interrupts him.

  “Not responding to the Council, ignoring The Den Members and your future Masters is unacceptable. I don’t know if you fully understand your responsibilities to this place, or if you do, and just plain ignore them. Hannah would have never done such a thing.”

  “I’m not Hannah,” I reply coldly. “If you want her so much, why don’t you go dig her up and place her on your seat?”

  His smug expression vanishes as the torment creeps around the fine lines of his face. The anguish of her death dissipates, and he clamps his teeth together, tightening his jaw and piercing me with the only thing we have in common, our dark brown eyes. His lamentation is temporary. “I’m willing to bet, even a dead Hannah can do better by this Council than you!”

  “Hails,” Aysen’s voice calls to me from the dark place deep inside my head, cautioning me. Don may be my father, but he’s the Charmer.

  Too bad I didn’t give a shit.

  My pride instigates confrontation. “You are probably right, but you only have me now. You pushed mom away, and then Hannah drove herself off a bridge . . . Who knows? Maybe she did it to get away from you. I would.”

  My father marches towards me, ready to strike me down. It wouldn’t be the first time he smacked a woman. Daxton swiftly positions himself in front of me while Aysen steps closer to me. My father comes to a halt in front of Dax, waiting for him to budge. Daxton doesn’t flinch, silently conveying to Don that if he wanted to get to me, he had to go through them first.

  Mr. Silver and Mr. Forte stand. Neither condone Dragon feuding, much less when it comes to me. In a way, Hiram and Liam were the fathers I never had.

  “Stop, Don.” Hiram Silver is the first to interrupt. “She’s here. That’s all that matters.”

  “She’s disrespectful, unpredictable and unwilling to follow the rules. She has no place here. I motion to remove her.”

  “Motion denied.” Liam Forte announces angrily, motioning for Aysen to bring me forward. As Aysen leads me towards the table, Daxton follows, making sure to stay between Don and me.

  “It seems you are on a mission to lose both your daughters,” Liam continues to reprimand him. “You are the one who needs to understand Dragon Decree. Removal of a council member is a death sentence.”

  For once my father looked taken aback. Everyone else in the room defended me with their b
odies. Not one relaxed muscle in sight.

  “Since you weren’t born into this, we will pardon your disregard for the well-being of the future Charmer. But here this, Don. It’s a pardon we will only give once. We understand the Blackwell line has suffered loss in many forms, but you are not a Blackwell. Hailee is. Once we relinquish our positions and pass them on, Hailee and the boys will rule us all. They deserve respect.”

  My father nods in acceptance, hopefully regretting he almost ordered my death.

  Hiram Forte turns his attention to me. “With that said, Hailee, you need to control your temper. Don is still acting Charmer, which means you need to curb your tongue.” His tone is lighter, almost as if he approved of the things I said. Or at least found them amusing.

  Liam extends his hand over the table, motioning for us to take a seat. Daxton holds out the chair at the head of the table, opposite my father. I sit, and Aysen and Daxton take their seats, a Silver on my right and a Forte on my left.

  “Now that we better understand what’s expected of you, let’s get down to business.”

  My father begins, cutting right to the chase. “Ryder’s upgrade has increased our influx. We have too much supply coming in to have it sitting in the warehouse.”

  “And what are we supposed to do about that?” My words continue to challenge him.

  “You, my daughter, are going to help distribute it.”

  “What?” Aysen glares at his father. “Training starts off with stupid history lessons on the Dragons and the rules, not throwing her into the crossfire.”

  Daxton and Aysen aren’t strangers to trafficking, but I’m a drug lord virgin. Not once have I ever been involved in something this illegal.

  “Circumstances call for something a little different this time around.” Liam tries to ease the apprehension in the air. “It’s something we have deliberated on over the last couple weeks. We finally reached a consensus this morning. We need you three to run the supply at the university level.”