Two Little Lies (Seasons of Deception)

by Adam Kunz

  “This is what I want. I promise,” I reply, and before I even have a chance to say anything else, my mouth is taken over by Brent’s once more.

  He backs me up against the long, buffet-style counter behind me and presses his body up against mine. His hands find their way to rest upon my waist. I feel him squat down a little before his hands clasp behind my thighs, just below my butt. In one fluid motion, my entire weight is supported by Brent’s muscular arms. He pushes into me again and sets me down to sit on top of the counter as we continue to kiss.

  We separate for a moment while he rips off his jacket and lets it fall to the floor behind him. His hands maneuver around the buttons on mine, and he starts loosening them one by one, giving me a kiss with each one he unfastens. I shrug out of my coat with his assistance and then toss it off to the side of the counter. He continues to grind into me while our kiss deepens, his hands wandering wherever he can touch me.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks, sounding out of breath while breaking away to look into my eyes.

  “Of course I trust you.”

  He brings his hands up to the turquoise-colored knit fabric scarf wrapped around my neck and begins to remove it. I react without even thinking as my hands shoot up to grab his. I do trust him, but no one has touched my scar other than me, and I can’t help but have this reaction.

  Brent’s eyes bore into mine as a serious look comes over his face. “Trust me, Laney, please?”

  As I continue holding onto his hands, I don’t feel him trying to push passed mine. He’s just waiting there calmly for me to release them, and allow him in. He’s letting this be on my terms. I could probably tell him no right now and he’d drop this all together, but deep down I want him to be the first one to touch me there. Though there’s still some apprehension, I feel my grip loosen more and more the longer Brent gazes into my eyes with his intense hazel beauties.

  Releasing his hands, I say, “I do.”

  A smile shows on his face as he continues to slide the scarf from around my neck. I want to run and hide because I feel so exposed with my scar visible. Even though it’s just Brent in front of me, I can’t get over the feeling he’s going to be turned off by seeing the grotesque permanent mark.

  “I know, it’s hideous,” I say as tears begin to mist my eyes.

  “No, it’s not at all. How can it be when it’s a part of you?”

  I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. As a tear finds a way to trickle down, Brent’s there to swipe it away. Taking a hold of the hand that just grazed my cheek, I look deeply into his eyes and a strained smile appears on my mouth. I draw in a deep, calming breath before bringing his fingers to lie on my scar. After the initial shock wears off, a sense of liberation I’ve never felt before flows through me. No one has ever touched my scar.

  “Brent ...”

  He places his index finger over my mouth, hushing me. He flashes a half-smile before leaning in close to my lips. His mouth lingers in front of mine as his hand cups the side of my face in a gentle caress. Finally, our lips touch.

  My hands travel under his shirt and find their place on top of his beautifully molded stomach. I can feel each of his abs as my fingers graze along before resting at the small of his back. A moan of satisfaction erupts from me as he thrusts his hips forward, burying his face into the side of my neck. A jolt of pleasure rushes through me and my nails dig into his skin as he places kisses all around my scar. He continues to kiss my neck, seeming unfazed by any kind of pain I may be causing him. It’s like he’s feeding off of my reaction to the area’s sensitivity, and before too long, it intensifies beyond my threshold.

  “Sorry,” I murmur, gripping his back tighter, my nails digging deeper, but then I ease up.

  “Don’t apologize,” he replies between kisses on my neck.

  I move my hands up his back and grab his shirt to pull it along, but stop short of removing it. He leans back, taking a short breather, and raises his arms in the air, allowing me to slide his shirt up and over his hands. As I begin to ball it, he maneuvers his head in between my arms and firmly plants a kiss on my mouth. The shirt falls from my hands and I run my fingers through his thick, dirty-blond hair, trying to match the intensity he’s displaying. When he plunges his tongue farther into my mouth, deepening the kiss, I allow him to take complete control. I yearn for him to do whatever he wants with my body, because at this moment, I am his, and he is mine.

  “Are we really doing this?” I ask, tilting my head back away from his for a moment while having sudden second thoughts. I was so into it a moment ago, but I’m starting to feel conflicted again.

  Why do I do this to myself?

  He lets out a small chuckle under his breath. “I don’t know. I’ve just been going with it, and making the rest up as we move along.”

  “I don’t want to do this and then things change between us again. I want to make sure we’re doing it for the right reasons,” I say, placing my hand on his chest right next to his heart.

  “I’d love to be able to see into the future and put your mind at ease by saying for sure things won’t change. The only things I’m sure of right now are I know I don’t want to stop kissing you.” He places a kiss on my lips. “I know I don’t want to stop touching your smooth, creamy skin.” He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “And I definitely don’t want to ever lose you again, in any way, shape, or form.”

  My arms spring around his neck and pull him in close. A certain phrase is rolling around my tongue, and before I know it, the words slip out through my teeth.

  “I think I love you,” I say.

  I immediately clam up at the thought of what his face must look like after hearing the dreaded “L” word. Most guys run and hide from it, and I grip him tighter in an attempt to delay seeing his inevitable expression.

  His hands take hold of my shoulders and he moves me back, putting a little space between us. I try to not make eye contact, dread building up inside of me. For a brief moment I glance at his face and see a look of puzzlement.

  “Sorry, it just came out. It was an emotional response to all of this. I got caught up in it, and I’m talking complete nonsense,” I lie, feeling so nervous that I’ve ruined this, like I ruin everything. Judging by his face, my nervous rambling has confused him even further.

  “Nonsense, huh?” he asks while taking my chin in his hand and tilting my head up to look at him. “Well, I know I love you, Laney Matthews. This I’m sure of.”

  “Really?” I ask softly.

  “Yeah, really,” he replies matter-of-factly.

  Our lips touch again, and a sense of euphoria washes over me at the thought of me finally finding my someone that Dr. Marks was talking about in our last session.

  I grip the button on his fly and undo it before pulling down the zipper. When his mouth moves to the side of my neck again, I drop his pants just below his butt and clench onto both cheeks with my hands, grabbing one of the firmest asses I’ve ever felt. His kiss becomes rougher and more forceful, showing me he enjoys what I’m doing to him.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it and keep my focus on Brent. When it stops vibrating, there’s a short pause and then it vibrates twice quickly, signaling the caller left a message. Brent moves his hands down around my waist and pulls me closer, our hips grinding into one another while locking lips again.

  My cell begins buzzing once more and he lets out a laugh. “Is your phone vibrating?” Brent asks after pulling away. “I can feel it on my leg.”

  “Yeah, one sec,” I say while taking out my cell to see who’s calling. It’s Nia. “Hey, Nia. Not to be rude, but you’re kind of interrupting something here.”

  “Sorry, but do you have the card with that deputy’s cell number on it? I can’t find it anywhere and we kind of have a situation over here,” she explains.

  “No, I don’t, but I have the numbers saved in my phone. Give me a minute and I’ll text them to you. What happened?” I ask after putting her on speaker so I
can still hear her when I begin searching through my contacts for Deputy Miller’s number.

  “Noah was being a typical guy and decided to get stupid on the snowmobile. The dip crashed into a tree. He messed up his leg pretty bad, but if the story Tee and Jared told me is true, the dumbass sort of deserved it,” she explains. “Oh, and the wonderful vehicle that Tee procured for us has officially broken down. It crapped out halfway down the driveway when we tried to take Noah to the hospital. We were going to take Brent’s truck, but we didn’t think he’d appreciate us hotwiring it since we don’t have the keys.”

  “Thanks for not doing that,” Brent chuckles.

  “You’re welcome,” Nia laughs back. “We figure we can kill two birds with one stone by calling the deputies over. They could give Noah and Emma a ride to the hospital, and maybe also call a mechanic to come out to look at the van.”

  “I knew that damn van would be a pain in the ass. So, is Noah going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, he says it doesn’t hurt, but I think he’s lying. His leg is pretty banged up.”

  “All right, I’m texting you the number right now,” I say and then hit the send button.

  “Got it, thanks,” she replies a few moments later.

  “I’ll be back soon, okay? We’re just finishing up here at the other house,” I say and can hear Nia’s giggle through the phone.

  “Yeah, I bet you are.”

  “Goodbye,” I say dryly.

  “Bye.”

  I look up at Brent after ending the call and he looks a little peeved. I’m pretty sure it’s about the snowmobile accident.

  “Don’t be upset. We’ll pay for any damages,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist and tilting my head to look him in the eyes.

  “I’m not upset because of that. In fact, I’m not upset at all. I’m just disappointed we have to head back so soon,” he answers with a pouty lip. On most people a pouty lip would probably look childish, but on Brent it’s freaking adorable.

  “Come on, you’ve got to finish up here, right? What’s left to check?” I ask after giving him a peck on the cheek.

  “Well, I’ve got to check the laundry room and all the hose hookups. Then I have to do a sweep of the second floor rooms to make sure all the beds are made and such. It shouldn’t take that long,” he answers, and then ups the ante on my peck with a full-blown kiss on the lips.

  “Can I help?” I ask near to his mouth after moving my head back a little.

  “Sure,” he replies, teasing my lips with his as he leans forward. I can taste his delicious peppermint Altoids breath encircling my tongue. “If you’ll check the second floor bedrooms, I’ll get the few things I have to do down here.”

  “Sounds good.” I reach for my jacket on the counter, and then back away from him as he’s pulling his shirt back on.

  Bounding up the stairs two at a time, I reach the second floor and head to the bedroom directly to my right. I open the door and peek in to check its condition. Everything seems to be in order, so I proceed to the room next to it. The door is already cracked opened, so I push it the rest of the way. The first thing I notice is the state the bed is in. It’s a little disheveled with the comforter messed up and the few throw pillows strewn about. My attention is then drawn to the alarm clock and lamp, which are both laying on the floor next to the nightstand.

  “Brent?” I call out to him. “You might want to come see this.”

  “Coming,” he answers. The next thing I hear is him heading up the stairs. In a matter of seconds, he’s right next to me, looking into the room over my shoulder. “Whoa, what the hell happened in here?”

  I take a few apprehensive steps into the room and peer around the bed. The setting sun shining through the window blinds reveals a trail of red spots on the tan area rug laying on the floor in front of the bed. I gasp when the tip of a black shoe poking out from the other side of the bed enters my field of vision.

  “Oh my God,” I blurt out. “I think someone’s on the floor over there.”

  “What?” Brent rushes up to my side. He places his hand on my shoulder and sends me a worried look after he sees what I do. “Wait here.” He rounds the bed and his eyes widen. “Holy shit! There’s a fucking body over here.”

  I hurry over to him and almost immediately avert my eyes when I see the person lying there. I peek back over at him and his face is all mangled and bloody, making him unrecognizable. “What happened to him?” I ask, my voice trembling.

  “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t an animal attack,” he replies while bending down next to the body. “I’m going to check if he has any kind of ID on him.” Brent cautiously pats around his coat pockets and finds a wallet in the left one. Perusing it, he pulls out the guy’s driver’s license and reads the name out loud.

  “Trevor McGillis.”

  “Holy shit,” I say, but the words are muffled behind my hand.

  “Do you know him?”

  “That’s Trevor,” I blurt out. “Colton’s boyfriend. He was supposed to be at the house this weekend. This can’t be happening! What the hell’s going on?”

  “We have to get the fuck out of here and call the sheriff’s office, now.”

  I nod, still shocked about seeing Trevor’s lifeless body sprawled out on the floor. My gut churns and I’m suddenly hit with a bout of nausea, causing me to look away. I can’t stomach the visual anymore.

  How am I going to tell Colton about this?

  As I move behind Brent toward the door, I’m overcome by the fear of who would do this. My mind keeps coming back to the same conclusion, but it’s not possible.

  It can’t be Robbie. It just can’t be.

  The moment we leave the room, I grab for my cell and dial Deputy Miller’s number in a panic. It goes straight to voicemail. I try to call Deputy Randall, but get the same result.

  “Shit, they’re not answering,” I huff. My phone beeps twice in rapid succession and I look at the screen.

  What the hell? My battery’s almost dead. It must not have taken a charge before.

  “Have you tried the sheriff’s office?” Brent asks, moving ahead of me down the stairs.

  “I didn’t save that number to my phone, just the deputies who said they were watching over the house,” I reply, stuffing the phone into my pocket while following down after him.

  “Call nine-one-one then,” he says once he reaches the front door.

  “Right,” I reply, taking out my cell again. The moment I go to unlock my screen, I hear the sound of the phone’s jingle when it turns off. The screen goes black and I realize my phone just died. “No, no, no. Piece of shit phone! It’s dead.”

  Brent abruptly turns back to me while holding the front door wide open. “Great,” he says and then begins to pat his pockets. “Wait. I don’t have my phone on me. I left it in the damn truck.”

  “Are there any phones in the house?” I ask, hoping the answer is yes.

  “No,” he replies, his face reflecting more and more worry with every passing second.

  “We have to hurry back to the other house. We’ve got to tell someone about this,” I say, rushing up to join him by the front door.

  We both head outside, but Brent stays behind to lock up the house while I hurry over to the snowmobile. I jump on, situating myself on the machine, and wait for him to join me. I grab the ski goggles I hung on the side of the vehicle before putting them on. Brent situates himself in front of me and sticks the key into the ignition. The engine rumbles when he turns it on, but then fizzles out. He lets out a low growl as he turns the key even harder this time, but still nothing.

  “Come on, come on,” he says, twisting the key again, but the result is the same. He pounds the gas gauge on the dash. “How the hell is the tank empty? I just filled it.”

  “What? We’re stuck here?”

  “No, there should be a gas can in the shed behind the house.” He steps off the vehicle and looks back at me to speak when something draws his eye. He reach
es past my leg and grabs the gas cap dangling there, not secured. “The tank’s been emptied,” he says after looking into the tank’s opening. “Bone dry.” He pans back to me and the look on his face sends chills through me worse than this freezing winter weather ever could.

  “Do you think there really was a person in the forest back there earlier? Did they do this?” My voice trembles with terror as the very real possibility of Robbie being out here with us enters my mind. I try to remind myself why he couldn’t be, but my paranoia is starting to get the best of me.

  How the hell could he find me all the way out here?

  “I don’t know. But it’s getting dark and we’ve got to get the hell out of here and get help.” He pauses and bends down to be on my level. I’m sure he realizes I’m beyond frightened by our situation, and from the looks of it, so is he. “We’re going to be okay. Come on, give me your hand,” he says extending his out to me. “We’ll both go get the gas and then leave together, all right?”

  I nod my head, feeling numbed by all of this. After I take his hand, he gently helps me off the snowmobile.

  The sun hangs low in the sky. We only have maybe thirty minutes of daylight left. It’s getting colder with every step we take on our way to the side of the house. Shadows dance around in the surrounding forest as we move along, making me think someone’s out there watching us.

  “The shed’s right over there,” Brent says while I’m busy scanning the woods for any sign of that dark figure from earlier. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.

  “Let’s hurry, please. I really hate being out here like this,” I say, my teeth chattering due to the frigid wind bombarding us.

  Brent picks up the pace. Before I realize it, we’re standing in front of the shed’s door. Wrenching it open, he moves inside and I follow closely behind, desperate to get out of the cold. Snow can be beautiful to look at, but when you’re in a hurry, it’s just a constant annoyance.

  “Got it,” Brent announces, holding up the medium sized red gas can. “Let’s-”