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Lies We Tell

Page 16

by Angel Lawson


  Kenley steps around me and looks at the king-sized bed. I’d been fast asleep when she’d knocked—to the point of almost missing it. Thank god I didn’t. She looked so frazzled and upset. I’m glad to see she’s calmed down. Too bad I’m dealing with my own adrenaline push—thinking of ways to make Alice pay for terrorizing KK all these months.

  “Do you mind?” she asks, standing by the rumpled bed.

  I shake my head and circle around to the other side. A moment later we’re under the covers and she turns off the lamp. I reach out and pull her to me. She rolls on her side, back pressed against my stomach, and settles in. It feels so good to have her close—to have her safe—even if the smell of her, the feel of her is driving me mad.

  The room is quiet—hotel quiet—and I’m pretty sure I hear my heart beating in my chest.

  I’m not sure how long I lie there, dozing, holding her in my arms when she shifts to face me and says, “I thought it was one of you.”

  “Hmm?”

  “When Alice got in my bed. I was groggy and confused. She touched me and I thought it was you, or Finn, or Oz.”

  “She’s a manipulator. She caught you in a weak moment.”

  She presses her lips to my sternum. “I don’t like feeling weak.”

  With two fingers I lift her chin, finding her face in the dark. “You’re the strongest woman I know—even through all this.”

  “Ezra?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “I want you to be the one that touches me.”

  “I will.”

  Her hand settles on my hip. “Now. Please.”

  A coil in my lower belly twists and my heart skips a beat. “I don’t know, KK. You’ve been through a lot, I don’t want to—”

  She cuts me off with her mouth, her lips parting, body pressed against mine. My cock is instantly hard. Er. Hard-er. I pull back and force myself to do the right thing.

  “Babe,” I cup her neck, “It’s been a long day. I know you’re tired and freaked out, maybe we should wait.”

  Her thigh hitches over my leg. “If you don’t want me, Ezra Baxter, then we can stop. But if you do, and from what I can feel, you really do.”

  I swallow. “I want you so fucking much. You know that.”

  “Then show me.”

  This time I kiss her, with no hesitation. She straddles my hips. My shorts are thin, and so are hers, and there’s no hiding our physical desire. She sits up, putting all that weight on my cock, and lifts her shirt over her head, revealing her body to me. I reach out and graze her nipples, then palm her tits in both hands. Her back arches, her long, blonde hair trails down her shoulders. She’s gorgeous, sexy, and mine.

  In the space of a heartbeat, I roll her so she’s beneath me. I hook my fingers under the waistband of her shorts and drag them down. I stand, removing mine next.

  “Shit. Hold on,” I say, kissing the tops of her feet before darting to the bathroom for a condom. I catch sight of my body in the mirror. Lean, fit, hard-packed muscle, my cock dark and erect. The coil that ties my dick to my balls twists tight. I rush back to the bed, tearing the condom with my teeth. Kenley lies on the bed, hand between her legs. I could come now, before I’m even inside her, but I steady myself, and roll on the condom. I grab her by the hips, dragging her to the end of the bed.

  She smiles and wraps her legs around my waist. As I enter her, I kiss her, feeling her hot tongue and her warm pussy.

  “Jesus,” I mutter in her mouth.

  My mind blanks for a minute, emotion overtaking me. Being inside her. With her. I’ve wanted it for a long time, all those days of watching her in class, of her riding behind me on my motorcycle. Horny, desperate, hours jerking off to her in the shower. She shifts and it brings me back to my senses.

  “You okay?” she asks me.

  I chuckle darkly. “God, yes.”

  My body thrums and I thrust my hips, gripping her ass. Our eyes connect and she lifts her legs, allowing me to go deeper, to set the rhythm. I kiss the inside of her knee, I stroke the hot, pulsing spot between her legs. She feels so good, so tight, so perfect. Her hands fist the sheets and her lips part; short breathy pants mingling with my own deeper grunts.

  Ecstasy surges through me, and I bite down on my bottom lip. I can’t hold out any longer—it’s already been long enough—she gasps, her breath taken away, her pussy quivering around me. She squirms, riding her high, but I use my strength to hold her still, thrusting deep. Groaning—coming hard.

  We slow, skin slick. Mind melted. I pull out, and clean up, before climbing back in the bed. Like magnets we roll together, skin-to-skin, body against body, hearts pounding, bodies satiated.

  “I’ve waited so fucking long to do that,” I say, taking her head with both of my hands.

  “Was it worth the wait?” she asks, so close, so sexy the urge to do it again is barely under the surface.

  “You’re worth everything, Kenley Keene. Never underestimate that.”

  I don’t know if she believes me, but I hope she does. I hope she carries my words, the way my heart thuds in my chest, the way my cock reacts to her, with her in the days that come.

  Because we’re going to be tested.

  And I hope this is enough to bind us together.

  38

  Kenley

  “Babe.” A heavy hand rests on my back. I blink and look up into Ezra’s handsome but tired face. I smile until I see the movement behind him, then jerk up, holding the sheet against my chest.

  It’s Finn and Ozzy, both with grim expressions.

  “You guys get dressed,” Ozzy says. “Dave texted. The chaperones are knocking on doors.”

  “Fuck,” Ezra says, rushing for his pants. The sound of banging on doors echoes down the hall.

  “What do we do?” I ask as Ozzy tosses me a hoodie.

  I pull it over my head and scrounge around for my shorts in the thick mess of sheets. Fully covered, I stand, getting a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is a mess, my lips swollen from a night of kissing. I look at the guys in a panic, but it’s pointless. There’s literally nowhere to hide and they probably already know I’m not in my room. Just being here is a violation of the rules—despite the reason I’m here.

  Knuckles rap on the door and my heart pounds. Finn takes my hand and squeezes it, while Ezra walks over to the door and opens it.

  “Boys,” Mr. Waller says, striding in the room. He stops short when he sees me standing at the foot of the bed, looking a rumpled, well-fucked mess. He turns his head and shouts out, “Found her!”

  A moment later, Shannon and Mr. Baxter appear in the doorway, Shannon’s face a mixture of relief and disappointment. Ezra, Sr. frowns, but doesn’t look surprised.

  “I can explain,” Ezra starts, but his dad holds out his hand.

  “I’m sure you can, and you’ll have time to do that soon. Right now, we need to talk to Kenley.”

  My heart thumps. Getting in trouble isn’t my M.O. Especially not at school.

  “What about?” Finn asks, clueless about the night before.

  Mr. Waller looks at me. “About Alice Kendrick.”

  “Alice?” Ozzy repeats with a frown. I hadn’t had a chance to tell them.

  Shannon steps forward. “Kenley, Alice is downstairs with Mrs. Gimple. We need you to come with us.”

  I nod, unsure if I should be glad that it’s not just about me being in Ezra’s room, or worried that they know about Alice. I walk toward the door, an actual “walk of shame,” accentuated by the fact I’m barefoot and in pajama shorts.

  I pass Waller in the hallway and he says in a low voice, “I knew you were troubled, but attacking another student?” He shakes his head. “Honestly, I’m disappointed.”

  I shake my head. “What? I didn’t attack Alice. She attacked me! It’s why I came up here last night—to get away from her.”

  His eyes sweep over me. “Alice has bruises. A cut on her head.”

  I blink, thinking about the marks on her neck. “T
hose bruises are not from me and you fucking know it.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Unfortunately, you have no credibility and I don’t see any sign of you being hurt. What I do see is a girl half-naked in a boy’s room—with three boys, actually.”

  “Hey!” Shannon says. I didn’t see her come in the hall. “We’re not here to accuse Kenley. We’re here to figure out what happened.”

  “Sometimes the facts present themselves.”

  Mr. Baxter, to my surprise, also jumps in. “Now isn’t the time for an interrogation, Brice. Everyone needs to go to your rooms, get dressed, and meet us in the dining room. Kenley, Ms. Hughes will go with you. You can wait in your room until you’re called.”

  Wait in the room? It’s New Year’s Eve. I have plans for the day. I’m in charge of setting up the party with Juliette. I clamp down on all of that and say, “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’ll have a chance to tell us your story soon,” he says, holding my eye.

  Shannon walks me to the elevator, and we get inside. Trying not to cry, I look at her. “I swear I didn’t hurt Alice. She already had those bruises. The cut on her head? That happened when I pushed her off of me because she got in my bed and shoved her hand down my pants.”

  The last sentence came out in a rush, a sob catching in my throat. Shannon looks at me, concern etched in her face. “She assaulted you?”

  I nod. “She professed her love to me and admitted some really awful things. I’ve had someone stalking me for months. They’d been breaking into my house and leaving me little things in my bedroom. Messing with me online. Gaslighting the hell out of me. It was her the whole time.”

  “Did you ever tell someone? The police? A teacher? Your parents?”

  I exhale. “Mr. Baxter knows.”

  “Okay. Okay.” She rubs my back. “We’ll figure this out.”

  When I get to the room, Alice’s suitcase is still on the end of her bed, but thankfully she isn’t there. I wonder where she is? What lies is she spewing? Is this just another attempt to make me crazy?

  I’m about to leave when there’s a knock at the door. I open it and see Mrs. Gimple in the hallway. Her expressions puts me on edge.

  “What?”

  “After conferring with the other chaperones, it’s been decided that it’s best for you to leave the retreat.”

  “I’m getting sent home?” My stomach feels queasy. “But I didn’t do anything. Alice attacked me.”

  “I understand you’re making that allegation, and we’re taking it seriously, but,” Mrs. Gimple says. “You were in Ezra’s room, which is against the rules.”

  “Because I needed to go somewhere safe.”

  “Kenley, you had to pass both our rooms to get to the elevator to go up to the boys' hallway.”

  “So,” I say, blinking back tears, “I was assaulted in my room by someone that has been harassing me for months and I’m getting sent home.”

  I can tell that doesn’t land well, but she says, “When you put it that way, it’s probably a good thing for your safety.”

  “For god’s sake,” I mutter. “They got to you, didn’t they?”

  Mrs. Gimple frowns. “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “Waller. Chandler.” I narrow my eyes. “Is Baxter in on it, too? Because he knows exactly what’s been going on.”

  “Kenley, you’re very upset.” She attempts to touch my shoulder but I jerk away. “Shannon has offered to give you a ride back home using one of the lodge’s vehicles.”

  “What about the others. Is Alice going home? Is Ezra?”

  “Mr. Baxter is responsible for Ezra, and Alice,” her eyes dart down, “is being handled. We heard your accusations and I’m in contact with Mr. Russell about how to proceed. You worry about you.”

  I assume Chandler is the one handling Alice.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Just when I think this can’t get any more twisted or out of control, it does.

  “Fine. Let me get my bag. I don’t want to be here anyway. You’re right. I’m not safe.”

  I may have on clothes when I walk through the lobby, but it’s still clear I’m on my second walk of shame for the day. My classmates head into the dining room, looks of confusion and curiosity on their faces. I’m sure the gossip chain has started. I even hear my name whispered and a few glances tossed my way. The boys? I don’t see them anywhere. I suspect Mr. Baxter has them wherever he’s got Ezra—to keep them from making a scene. Shannon meets us at reception, car keys in her hand.

  “I’m really sorry about this, Kenley,” Mrs. Gimple says.

  “Whatever,” I say, not feeling remotely generous.

  Cold air greets us when we step outside and I toss my bag in the back of a white SUV. Shannon gets in the driver’s seat, cranking the engine, then the heat. I lean back against the leather.

  “I know this is more complicated than it seems, but I’m with Mrs. Gimple. It may be safer for you not to be here.”

  “Yeah,” I say, looking out the window as we drive away. “They may have found a way to shut me up, but at least I’m not dead or missing. I know two other girls that didn’t get that luxury.”

  The good news is that I don’t have to explain to my parents why I’m home early. Mrs. Gimple called and told them. The bad news is that they’re pretty horrified that I’d been caught in a boy’s room, Ezra Baxter’s room, of all people. The result is that I spent the remainder of my break grounded, even after everyone returns home from the trip. Oh, and I’m also subjected to a painfully awkward sex talk by my mother and threats to send me to therapy, because this is obviously PTSD from losing Rose.

  It’s like Alice can’t stop screwing me over.

  The boys attempt to contact me—but I cut them off. I’m not mad, I just don’t need to give my parents any more reason to worry. I close my curtains to not get tempted by Finn through the window. Phone calls are off limits. My phone is no longer my phone. At least, that’s how my dad put it when he locked it in the safe.

  All of this is why I’ve never been so thankful for school to start back, even though I’m going to have to deal with the fallout with Alice.

  It’s why I’m not surprised when Mr. Russell greets me outside AP Lit.

  “Ms. Keene, I need you to come to my office.”

  Ozzy, Finn, and Ezra watch me from in the classroom. So close, yet so far.

  “Sure,” I say, clutching my backpack. I’d hoped getting sent home would be punishment enough, but I guess not.

  “Follow me,” he says, directing me to the small conference room. I haven’t been in here since I’d been questioned by the police. Before I can walk in, a figure steps into the hall. Chief McMichael.

  Worry twists at my stomach.

  “Chief.”

  “Kenley,” he says, grimacing. “We need to talk.”

  “Okay.”

  I’d been worried about this. Alice could press charges for the assault she claimed took place in our room. If she does, I’m telling everyone everything I know. I’m not letting her control this situation one second longer.

  “I heard about what happened with Alice—”

  Here we go.

  “I didn’t do anything. She attacked me. She stalked me. I know I don’t have any evidence but ask Finn. Or Ozzy. Or Ezra. Ask Mr. Baxter, they can vouch for me.” The words rush out, the panic very real. Getting sent home is one thing, but arrested? I have college applications out. I have a future to worry about. My mind spins and I notice the chief talking. “What?”

  “We know.”

  “You know?”

  “We know, Kenley.”

  About what?

  One word lingers in my mind.

  “We?”

  He gestures for me to go into the conference room. I look in and see two people. One woman in a charcoal gray suit, hair twisted in a bun and glasses perched on her nose. A tablet sits on the table in front of her. The other is a guy—around my age, maybe a little older—sitting next to
her at the table. He’s wearing a blue crew neck sweater that matches his eyes. He looks…well, the best way to put it is rich. An air of aristocracy clings to him like expensive cologne.

  “Agent Cole,” Chief McMichael says, “This is Kenley Keene.”

  The woman stands and gives me a tight smile, offering her hand for a bone-breaking handshake. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Keene. This is Luke Fenway, my associate.”

  He nods in my direction.

  I frown, feeling like I’ve heard his name before, but I can’t quite place it.

  “Agent?” I ask, looking at McMichael.

  “Agent Cole works for the FBI.”

  A different sort of panic bubbles in my chest. “The FBI? Seriously, I didn’t touch her.”

  “Kenley, take a seat,” Agent Cole says, her voice stern.

  I do as I’m told. McMichael sits next to me. The other guy, Luke Fenway, studies me with those cool blue eyes and fine blonde hair. It’s short on the sides but a little shaggy on top, like he’s been growing it out. He doesn’t look old enough to be an FBI agent—but that’s not what she called him. She said, ‘associate.’

  “When Rose Waller went missing, it was reported that she may have had an involvement with an arranged relationship app called SugarBabies. We’ve spent the last few months investigating that lead.”

  My stomach flutters.

  “You followed up on that?”

  “Of course. It seemed like a viable lead in a missing person’s case.” She flicks her eyes at McMichael—the man that ruled her death a suicide. “A young girl involved in a sex arrangement app with older men? That triggers all kinds of sex trafficking warning bells.”

  “We alerted the FBI when we found out,” McMichael says.

  “Okay.” I swallow, mind running a mile a minute. “Why do you want to talk to me?”

  “Because we unearthed some important information while looking into Rose’s disappearance and we think you may be able to help us.”

  She turns on the tablet and pulls up a screen. The guy next to her, Luke, looks at it with a bored expression. Before I even see the screen, a wave of nausea rolls over me. There’s little doubt what they uncovered and how it ties back to me.

 

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