Two Little Lies (Seasons of Deception)

by Adam Kunz

  He moves in really close, inches from my mouth, and whispers, “Because you were home ... and alone. Or at least we thought you were.”

  “Fuck you!” I yell, and try to head-butt him, but he dodges out of the way.

  “Now, now, there will be plenty of time for those kinds of antics later,” he says, stressing the word antics as he slugs me in the stomach again. I wheeze out a grunt of pain and my legs wobble, perched on top of the hay bale. I steady myself and stand up after the ache subsides enough to regain control of my legs.

  Trevor grabs my hair and pulls it back with aggression, sending a sharp pain coursing through my neck. He joins me up on the bale of hay and stares at me with a psychotic gaze until it softens into a smirk. “Santa Baby” continues to play in the background, setting the scene for a perfect recreation of that night four years ago.

  “Truth or dare?” he asks, tugging even harder on my hair, making me moan and wince.

  “Go to hell.”

  He chuckles. “Let’s try this one more time. Truth or dare?”

  “Go. To. Hell!” I reply, emphasizing and prolonging all three words.

  He shakes his head, his smirk transforming into a full-on grin as he makes disapproving noises at me.

  “Now why’d you have to go and make this difficult? What if I told you the lives of your friends depend on your answer? Would you play along then?” he asks, his voice sending chills through me, worse than when I was splashed with water earlier.

  I glare at him, my jaw clenched as tight as humanly possible. “Truth,” I murmur, much to my chagrin.

  “Good,” he says, sounding full of himself, and releases my hair, causing my head to snap forward.

  I try to ease the tension in my neck by rolling it from side to side. A throbbing ache begins to pulse from the root of each hair follicle where his hand was just pulling. He goes quiet and moves behind me out of my peripheral vision.

  “Are you going to ask your question or not?” I yell, my voice trembling.

  He wraps his hands around my hips, his fingers digging into my skin under my shirt, and spins me around. The scene filling my vision almost brings me to tears. An involuntarily whimper escapes as I thrash forward, trying to get free. Jared, Colton, and Brent are all sitting in wooden foldout chairs, tied up with thick rope. Their mouths are gagged with red ribbon, and none of them appear to be conscious.

  “Which of these three handsome fellows do you truthfully believe betrayed you?” Trevor asks, joining me on top of the hay bale again. He hugs me from behind and mimics Robbie’s initial position the night of my attack. When I try to turn my head and look away, he grabs my chin and forehead and forces me to face forward. “You said you’d play along. Don’t break your word, or I’ll break one of their necks.”

  “None of them betrayed me, asshole. You’re just trying to get into my head. You did it all yourself. Take some fucking responsibility for your actions and be a man, you bastard!” I reply.

  Trevor moves in front of me. The look on his face is demonic. I almost see the flames of rage brushing his cheeks.

  “That was very stupid, Laney!” he shouts.

  He grips my throat in a tight stranglehold, pressing his thumbs into my windpipe. I try to pull in small breaths, grasping to take in any air that’s available. I feel my eyes start to roll into the back of my head as he wrings his hands around my neck tighter and tighter.

  “Fuck you, mother fucker!” a familiar female voice rings out.

  A loud clang sounds in front of me and suddenly I’m able to breathe, no longer feeling hands tightening around my throat. A coughing fit ensues as I watch Trevor collapse to the ground after another loud clang rings through the barn. I draw in a deep breath, trying to regain my composure, and see Nia standing in front of me holding a shovel.

  “I’m ... so glad ... to see you,” I cough out as Nia drops the shovel and wraps me up in a hug.

  “You have no idea,” she sniffles into my shoulder.

  Nia begins to untie my hands from the rope suspended by the system of pulleys above. After she works her way through the knot, my hands break free and I clutch them close, massaging my wrists. They’re so tender and itching like crazy from the rope fibers. She smiles at me and I return it.

  “I thought I had lost you,” I say, flinging my arms around her and pulling her in tight again.

  “Thank God I heard you screaming out here,” she replies, reciprocating the hug.

  “You can say that again.”

  Nia moves over to Trevor’s body and nudges him with her foot. When he doesn’t react, she kicks him in the face as hard as she can while muttering something under her breath. “That’s for Tee, you fucker,” she cries before slumping down next to me on the bale of hay as I try to unbind my ankles.

  She wraps her arm around my shoulder while nuzzling the side of her head up to mine. I can feel her tears trail down from her eyes onto my cheek. Nia plants a kiss on the side of my forehead and then squeezes me in a side hug before making her way back to her feet.

  “I’m going to untie the others,” she says and I nod.

  I watch her move toward Brent’s chair first since he’s the closest to us. Still working on the knot secured around my ankles with shaking hands, I keep my eyes on Trevor’s limp body for any sign of movement. There’s a small pool of blood forming at the back of his head, and is flowing down the side of his face onto the hay he’s resting on. After receiving two solid blows to the head with a shovel, and then a kick to the face, I’m pretty sure he’ll be out for a while.

  “I can’t loosen these knots. They’re tied too tight,” Nia shouts out to me.

  “Maybe there’s a knife out here somewhere, or something else sharp you could use,” I reply, still distracted by the tangle of rope around my feet.

  “I have a knife,” I hear off to my side.

  I gasp when I see Colton no longer tied up. He has Nia in his arms, a hand over her mouth and a knife to her throat.

  “Colton? What the hell are you doing?” I ask, finally freeing my ankles and jumping up to face them.

  “I’m proving my love,” he replies matter-of-factly. Nia thrashes about, but Colton runs the knife along her neck, scraping just below her jaw. She cries out while tensing up.

  “Stop!” I yell, taking a step toward them, holding my hands up in a submissive pose. “What do you mean by that, Colton? You don’t still love that sick bastard, Trevor, do you?”

  “No, not him,” he replies, staring intently at me. “You.”

  “What? But you’re gay,” I stammer in confusion.

  “I’m bi, Laney. The whole one hundred percent gay act was just that, an act,” he says with a sick smirk.

  “Why?” I ask, feeling utterly betrayed. I’m finding it hard to process all of my emotions right now. One thing’s for sure though, I’ve never been deceived like this before, and to be honest it hurts way worse than anything Robbie or Trevor has ever done to me.

  “I had to get close to you for all of this to work. My uncle was Robbie’s lawyer during the trial. That’s how Trevor found me. When he realized we were both attending the same university, he took me under his wing because he saw a little of himself in me. He wanted me to get in with you to learn all I could in order to help him destroy you from the inside out. I never expected that after Nia introduced us I’d become obsessed with you just as much as Trevor was.” He twists the knife under Nia’s chin when he says her name. Her cry of pain causes me to cringe. “We’ve been waiting patiently for the perfect time to do this. A four-year anniversary seemed like a good time, especially since it matched up perfectly with Robbie’s release.”

  I take another step toward them. “Do you hear yourself, Colton? You sound just as insane as Trevor. How can you trust him? Don’t you think he would’ve just killed you after all this was over anyway?”

  “This isn’t how it was planned, Laney. Trevor was supposed to clear everyone out, and then I was going to kill him while rescuing you. I�
�d be your hero and we’d live happily together. But now it’s all fucked,” Colton shouts, tightening his grip on Nia even more and digging the blade deeper, actually drawing blood this time.

  “You don’t have to do this, Colton. You haven’t killed anyone yet. It’s not too late,” I explain, moving closer to them.

  “Don’t take another step,” he yells, bringing the knife down to Nia’s side and pressing it against her body.

  “Please, Colton. Let’s just run away from this. Just the two of us,” I lie, hoping to get him to relax his guard and let Nia go.

  “Really?” he asks, sounding hopeful.

  “Really.”

  He loosens his grip on Nia, and her face shows some relief.

  “Now, just give me the knife, and we’ll both walk out of here together. No one else has to get hurt,” I say, only a few steps out of his reach.

  He begins to tilt the handle of the knife toward me, holding it out for me to grab, but keeps his other arm clutched securely around Nia’s neck. His eyes are holding my gaze, and I notice there’s still a sense of hesitation in them. I go to reach for the knife’s handle and my hands are shaking like crazy. Colton’s eyebrow cocks up, as if he’s having second thoughts about trusting me.

  “Liar!” he screams and then twirls the knife in his hand before plunging it into Nia’s side. Her shriek of agony rips at me like I was just stabbed in the heart.

  “No!” I cry as I watch him yank the knife back out.

  Tears fill my eyes. Colton drops Nia off to the side like she means nothing. I cringe as she hits the ground with a sickening smack. My surprised eyes meet Colton’s as he advances on me. I rush for the shovel resting on the ground behind me. Rotating around with the shovel in hand, I come face to face with Colton. Before I have a chance to swing at him, he grabs the shaft, hindering my attack, and swipes at me with the knife. He nicks my left hand with the tip of the blade as I try to move out of the way.

  The pain only succeeds in pissing me off. I rear back with the same hand he just cut and put as much force behind it as I can muster to clock him in the face. He staggers back, seeming to have absorbed the force of my punch, but he still retains his grip on the shovel. Pulling him toward me, I throw up my knee and drive it into his crotch, making him release a groan of pain. Somehow he still pushes through it, like he’s super human or something.

  Colton throws the knife down to the ground and wraps his other hand around the shovel’s handle to get a better grip on it. I try to fight against his strength, but he raises the shovel and kicks me in the shin to lower my guard, leaving me open for an attack. He pushes hard on the handle, canceling out my shove against him and sends the shovel flying into my jaw. I let go and stumble backward, feeling a stinging pain followed up by an intense headache. Leaning up against a pile of hay bales, I watch as Colton stalks toward me, shovel in hand.

  “It didn’t have to be like this, Laney,” he says, tears filling his eyes. “We could’ve been happy, but you just had to go and ruin everything.”

  Colton stops in front of me and raises the shovel above his head, readying to deliver a serious blow. “Colton?” I ask in a whimper while putting up my hands in submission, causing him to hesitate.

  “It’s too late, Laney,” he replies.

  “You’re right, it is,” I say, and then swing my leg up as hard as I can right between his legs. This time it causes him to collapse to one knee while supporting himself on the end of the shovel’s handle. I roll off of the hay bale and attempt to move toward the front of the barn, but am stopped by a hand grabbing my ankle, tripping me up. I fall forward and land on my hands, my face hovering close to the ground.

  Looking back, I see Colton trying to claw his way up my leg, grabbing chunk after chunk of my jeans in order to get a better grasp on me. I kick my leg around wildly, trying to hit him in the face. My foot finally connects with his forehead, and before he has enough time to recover, I send another swift kick to his face, making him roll off of me.

  I crawl to my feet and hobble toward the open barn door as a dull ache works its way through my legs. Reaching outside, I have no idea where I’m headed. All I know is that I have to get away from Colton. There’s no plan, and at this moment I fear my death is only being prolonged.

  My adrenaline kicks in and I find myself hobbling faster than before. I’m using the smoldering vehicles in front of me as a destination marker. A loud bang behind me has me glancing back to see what caused it. Colton’s standing there framed by the open door while slamming the shovel against the front side of the barn.

  “Laney!” he cries out before following after me, a crazed look on his face.

  I keep moving forward, but stumble while slogging through the heavy snow. Regaining my footing, I push on. As I get closer to the charred vehicles in front of the house, I notice a new car parked there, undamaged. The headlights look like the ones from the car hidden in the woods at the other house. I rush for the driver’s side door and fling it open. Crawling inside, I settle into the seat, close the door, and immediately hit the automatic locks. When I go to grab for the keys in the ignition, they’re not there.

  Dammit!

  I search my immediate area and begin to panic when I see Colton nearing the car. I flip down the visor overhead, I open the center console, check the cup holders, but there’s no sign of the key anywhere. Grabbing the handle for the glove box, I pull it down and papers fly out onto the floor. Something silver and shiny catches my eye amongst the contents of the glove box-a gun. I take it in my hands and feel the cool metal as my fingers caress its exterior.

  A scream leaves my lips as a loud crash fills my ears, making me duck down as a shower of broken glass assaults the front seat of the car. Through the chaos, the gun slips from my fingers. I see Colton standing by the shattered driver’s window, reaching in to unlock the door. I stretch for the gun laying on the floor of the passenger’s side, my fingertips barely grazing the barrel of it, but it’s just out of reach.

  I feel a tight grasp on my ankle, making me yell out while trying to kick back. The grip on my foot loosens and I lunge forward, taking hold of the gun just as my ankle is grabbed again. I’m yanked back toward the door, my face dragging across the black leather seats, making my cheek feel rug burned. A yelp of pain escapes my mouth as I continue to struggle to break free.

  Half of my body is outside the car when I feel a hard tug on the back of my jacket, pulling me out even farther. I try to spin around to hit Colton in the face with my elbow, but he blocks it by grabbing my hand holding the gun. He attempts to disarm me, but I fight him off and break free from his grip. He counters quickly, seizing the gun again as I try to point it at him. We tussle back and forth until Colton pushes my hand into the broken widow. I yell as a sharp sting courses through my hand and up my arm as pieces of glass lodge into my skin. The gun slips from my grasp and falls to the ground on the other side of the door. Colton drags me to my feet by my jacket before slamming me up against the car, sending a painful surge throughout my back.

  “Sorry, did that hurt?” he says close to my face. He moves his hand from combing through my hair to grazing my cheek.

  I try to knee him, but he traps my leg with his and pins mine up against the car. He applies even more pressure this time when shoving me into the car, knocking the wind out of me. My back and head bang against the cold unforgiving metal. Drawing in tiny breaths through the ache, I glare at Colton as he continues to restrain me. The grin that forms on his lips makes him look even crazier than before, and I swear his eyes are reflecting pure evil the longer I stare into them.

  “Do you have any last words, my love?” he asks and I wish he’d just end me so I don’t have to look at him anymore.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a few,” someone says to the side of us.

  We both turn and see Brent standing there, looking a little worse for wear. Before Colton can react, Brent tackles him to the ground and begins to wail on him, giving me a chance to catch my breath. I pan o
ver and see the two of them rolling around in the snow, exchanging blows back and forth. Working through the serious ache flowing through my body, I remove two medium-sized pieces of glass from the back of my hand, and then close the car door before reaching down to pick up the gun.

  The moment the gun is in my hand, I hear a loud grunt right behind me. I’m suddenly hit from behind, causing me to fall forward. The weapon flings into the air out of my grasp. I try to keep an eye on it, but lose track of where it lands when my face plants into the snow. I can hear Colton and Brent still going back and forth after crashing into me.

  I push myself off the ground and see Colton on top of Brent, trying to choke him out. Anger courses through me as I leap onto his back and wrap my arms around his neck. I squeeze as tight as I can, all the while trying to avoid Colton from hitting me in the face with his frantic attacks.

  Brent sends me a signal to let Colton go, and I release him. Shoving off his back, I watch Brent rear back and throw a punch that connects with Colton’s cheek. He crumples to the side and Brent mounts him to deliver a few more blows to the face until he’s sure he’s knocked out. He slinks back off of Colton to join me sitting in the snow. A relieved look shows on his face before we embrace each other in a hug.

  “You have no idea how happy I am to see you alive, and to be able to hold you again,” I hear him whisper into my ear. I can tell he’s smiling just by the tone in his voice. I don’t say a word. I just hug him tighter and live in this moment.

  I can’t believe it’s really over.

  Brent takes my injured hand in his and I wince from the tremendous pain. He apologizes and then begins analyzing the wound.

  “We need to wrap this up with something,” he says, removing his jacket.

  He starts to pull on the sleeve of his button-up plaid shirt, attempting to tear it off. As the seams attaching the sleeve to the shoulder begin to rip, he digs his hand into the gap and tears it the rest of the way. He wraps the fabric tightly around my hand, finishing it with a knot.