Vicious Lies

by Ella Miles

  “Where are we going?”

  Langston leans back in his single chair across from me on the couch. He’s wearing his usual outfit of jeans, boots, and a plain black T-shirt. He blends in and is ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

  He looks like Langston, but there is a heaviness to his stare. Something has changed about him; I just can’t put my finger on it.

  Not that I care. I don’t care about Langston. I need to get him out of my life, once and for all.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  I sigh. Same old Langston—it’s either no answer or a lie.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  He peers out the window next to him as if he didn’t even hear my question. Or maybe he’s considering how to answer me?

  Finally, his heavy gaze returns to me, and I wish he’d kept staring out the window. As much as Langston tries to hide it, there is only one stare he gives me when he looks at me. And as much as I try to hide it, there is only one reaction my body returns when he stares.

  Lust.

  No matter how we hate each other, we missed our opportunity for one night in the bed, and our bodies resent us both for that.

  That’s probably why I’m here? For Langston to have his way with me. That way, he gets control of his lust without giving up any power to me.

  I’m not naive enough to think I could truly fight him. If he wants to torture me, rape me, kill me, he can. But I can make the memory one that haunts him for the rest of his life.

  “If I answer you, you won’t believe me,” Langston says in a deep octave that vibrates through my chest cavity and hits me in the heart, making it beat rapidly in response.

  “That’s right, you’re a liar.”

  He smirks. “Same as you.”

  “How long will you keep me?” He’ll hurt me to get whatever he wants—my pain may, in fact, be what he wants. He’s a sadistic bastard, after all.

  I know what he did to Siren—all in the name of helping her. They are besties now, but she doesn’t know him like I do. She doesn’t know the true depths of his danger.

  “Seatbelt,” Langston says suddenly out of nowhere.

  I glance out the window and realize we are low to the ground. It looks like we are about to land in the ocean, not on land, but I know that isn’t true.

  I buckle my seatbelt and stare out the window for clues as to where Langston will hold me captive until he gets whatever he wants from me.

  I spot the small island we are about to land on. The water is crystal blue.

  Caribbean?

  Hawaii?

  Maldives?

  There are so many places we could be landing. I don’t know how long I was unconscious. For all I know, we could just be over in Key West, or we could be thousands of miles from Miami, like the coast of Australia.

  Langston won’t be telling me the truth, but hopefully, the airport will have signs once we land to tell me where we are.

  We approach the rough-looking runway, and I’m glad I put my seatbelt on. The runway looks more dirt than concrete.

  I brace myself, and I notice Langston do the same as we make a rough, bumpy landing.

  I stare out the window, waiting for a building or other planes to come into view. None do.

  The plane slowly creeps to a stop, but no cars drive up to greet us. No security comes to check our passports.

  It seems we’ve landed on an island in the middle of nowhere.

  I look over to Langston, who is looking at me curiously with a small grin lifting up his sharp cheeks, like he knows it will piss me off that he took me to a place I’ll have trouble escaping.

  If there were men here on the island, I could escape. Use my powers of flirtation to get one to help me, but I can’t use that power if there are no people.

  “Would you like to change, or are you going with the castaway look for our entire trip?” Langston says, his eyes dragging up and down the dirty rags I’m wearing.

  I want to change, but he’s won enough for one day.

  “How long?” I say, my voice tighter.

  “Long enough that your boyfriend will get worried. Long enough that he will give up looking for you and find someone else to become the future Mrs. Waylon Rogers.”

  I shake my head. “Waylon will never stop looking for me.”

  Langston laughs. “I give him six months tops before he moves on. He’s planning on running for office, and he knows that having a beautiful woman on his arm will serve him well.”

  Beautiful—that’s the only characteristic that Langston uses, like beauty is all that matters.

  “Don’t underestimate him. He has money—more than you do. And we both know that men with money usually get what they want.”

  Langston unbuckles his seatbelt.

  I do the same.

  I stand to follow him off the plane.

  “How long?” I repeat again. He won’t give me any other answers, but I need to know how long I have to endure whatever he has planned. It will give me something to focus on.

  Langston mentions six months, but that was just a random number he threw out to frighten me. I doubt Langston has six months to give up with me on this island. He works for Kai and Enzo Black. He’s part of their family—basically, a brother to Enzo and Zeke. They won’t let him hideaway on an island with me for long. They will say I’m a lost cause, and he should give up whatever he thinks he’s going to accomplish with me.

  Langston whips around at my words. “I told you I wouldn’t answer you. No matter what my answer is, you won’t believe it anyway.”

  “One month? Two? Three? How long?” I ask, watching the vein on his forehead balloon as he becomes more impatient with my annoying question.

  Then he turns and walks toward the plane’s door to exit.

  I realize there is no one on the plane except the pilot.

  “If you’re going to rape me, just get it over with tonight. Rape me all week, and then we can both go home next weekend,” I mumble under my breath.

  That does it.

  Langston snaps.

  Turning on a dime, he has my arms pinned above my head, my body pressed against one of the windows, and my pelvis pinned with his.

  He’s breathing hard and fast—out of control. His eyes shine red, his nostrils flare, and the demon within him comes out to play.

  He might rape me right here, right now.

  Good—get it over with.

  “Why would I give you what you want? Why rape you today when I can take my time? When I can make you wait and fill your head with all the torturous things I will do to you?”

  “Because then you would have to wait too. You’re the most impatient man I’ve ever met. You can’t wait.”

  He grips my wrist with one hand as he strokes the side of my face with his knuckles so gently. The combination of his rough grip combined with his soft touch sends delicious sinful desire through my body.

  I hate men being rough with me. So why does his grip turn me on, even a little bit?

  “I’ve waited a long time for this, Liesel. I think I can wait a bit more.”

  “How long?” I breathe, my voice giving away my neediness.

  “As long as it takes.”

  Langston releases me and undoes the door of the plane, leaving me with his parting words.

  As long as it takes.

  As long as it takes for what?

  Langston stops just before he exits the plane and pulls out his gun. He aims it into the cockpit. “But this only ends one way—”

  He fires.

  I scream.

  I don’t have to look to know that he shot the pilot.

  “Death.”

  14

  Langston

  Liesel is going to kill me.

  I don’t mean she’s going to stab me in the heart with a knife or shoot me in the head with a gun—no, I mean she’s going to kill me slowly with her luscious lips, her sparkling eyes, her deadly curves. She’s going to break
me down by throwing her alluring body at me and her smart mouth until I give in and spill everything I know.

  We both share a secret.

  One from when we were children.

  I have half of the secret. She has the other.

  Neither of us can do anything with the information we have without the other.

  But neither of us is willing to share the truth because we don’t want the other to have any power over the other. Once the secret is shared, it will be a battle to solve the puzzle that will lead to the changing of our lives forever.

  I used to think that we would never solve the puzzle, never share the secrets. But things have changed, and we no longer have a choice. Time is no longer on our sides.

  Liesel doesn’t realize this yet, but she will. She may want to hide the truth, but she doesn’t know that time is running out every day.

  I hear Liesel climbing down the stairs of the plane behind me as I walk across the dirt runway. I’m not worried about her running off; there is nowhere for her to run off to. That’s why I chose this island.

  I throw a glance over my shoulder anyway, to see what she will do once her feet hit the ground. She thinks I’ll rape her, torture her—she’s not wrong. I’ll do anything it takes to get the truth.

  Anything.

  That’s how badly I need her to share her secret.

  Liesel is right to think I’ll hurt her. She’s only ever seen the worst of me. The worst of me is harsher than the devil himself. I’ve killed more men than Enzo or Zeke combined.

  Tortured more people.

  Ruined more lives.

  You could blame my rough childhood on why I am the way I am, but I don’t. I blame no one. I chose this life. I wanted this life.

  Liesel thinks she’s seen the worst of me, but I’m capable of so much more.

  Most women would run in a situation like this. Run, flee, hide somewhere on the island to avoid being hurt. Others might search the island for any civilization to help her.

  Not Liesel.

  She knows the truth of her options. She knows she can run, but she’ll only end up dead from dehydration. She knows that anyone she finds on the island works for me.

  She’s right on all accounts.

  The only way off this island is death or me.

  For now, I’m the lesser of two evils.

  Her last option is to fight.

  That’s the option she’ll choose, but she will take her time—planning, scouting her options until she knows everything there is to know about the island. Until she thinks I’ve lowered my defenses. Then she’ll strike.

  I’ll be ready, though.

  Liesel will follow me wherever I go for the time being. She will want to learn everything she can. So I don’t have to worry about giving her orders or tying her up. Not yet.

  The island is split in two. One half holds a small native population of maybe a hundred people. The other half is vast jungle forest, almost completely uninhabited, except for one house—the house I own.

  I could call a car and we would be at the house in ten minutes, but where’s the fun in that?

  So instead, I throw my backpack over my shoulder, carrying the essentials—water, food, a change of clothes. And then I take off into the jungle.

  “Really, Langston? You don’t have a car, a four-wheeler, something, to take us to wherever we are staying?” Liesel shouts.

  I smirk. Liesel pretends she’s a girly girl—one who is afraid to chip her nails or mess her hair or makeup up, but that’s not who she really is. At least, that’s not who she used to be.

  “I would call for one if there was a car to call on the island,” I lie.

  Her feet stop moving. I no longer hear the crunch of leaves under her feet. “There isn’t anyone else on the island?”

  “Just the two of us.”

  Her mouth falls open as she stares back at the plane—the only chance she had to escape is now gone after I shot into the cockpit.

  “We’re really alone?” she asks, recomposing herself.

  “Yes.”

  She grips her oversized sweatshirt around the neck, tightening the garment against her body like she’s hugging herself. She’s going to sweat to death in that sweatshirt. The only benefit is that she might get fewer bug bites this way.

  I want her to take it off so I can get a better view of her body; it would make the hike more enjoyable. But I’m not sure my cock would survive if that were the case.

  The one thing I know is that I won’t be fucking Liesel tonight, not even if she begged. And she won’t beg. If I touched her, she’d scream rape. She would survive and keep her secrets locked away.

  She’s suffered a lot in her past, more than any woman ever should.

  My throat closes up, and my eyes water just thinking about what she’s endured. It’s going to take a lot more than violating her to break her. A lot more.

  Pain and fear are only one way to get her to the edge of breaking. Something much harder is the only way to get her to fully break. Something so dark and dangerous that I’m not even sure if I can endure it—but we must.

  A trek through the woods is going to do little to wear her down. It will irritate her, but it’ll be worth it to sleep under the stars with her tonight.

  Tomorrow we can sleep in the mansion. Tonight is about getting reacquainted with each other.

  She stomps over to me, and the next thing I know, she’s pulled her sweatshirt off and tied it around her head to shield her head from the sun. Her sports bra shows off her flat belly just above her sweatpants. She’s wearing tennis shoes, so this trek isn’t too hard for her. It’s not like she’s wearing six-inch heels.

  “Did you come prepared with any water or gear, if you expect me to hike through the jungle and risk catching malaria? Or are you hoping I’ll die of dehydration or become delirious to make it easier for you to rape me?”

  I roll my eyes at her rape joke. She thinks that’s all this is about—a sexual tension and itch I need to scratch, that I’ve brought her here to fuck and nothing more. She has no idea of the truth.

  I reach into my backpack and pull out a water bottle and sling it at her. She catches it and sips on the water.

  “Now, stop complaining and get moving. We have a couple of miles to hike before dark.”

  “Are we building a house too tonight? Or is there somewhere we are making it to? I’m guessing not since there are no cars on the island.”

  “I thought we’d sleep under the stars like we did when we were children.”

  “You better have two tents and two sleeping bags in that small backpack of yours.”

  I grin. “Nope, just water and some food.”

  She puts her hands on her hips like she just can’t believe she’s stuck with my incompetence. “Really? You didn’t even pack a tent? I’m not staying out here on this island for days or weeks without at least basic shelter. We are both going to die.”

  “Stop being dramatic. We aren’t going to die. I was a Boy Scout, remember? I know how to survive in the woods for years without anything but a knife. And I have a lot more than a knife on me.”

  “I don’t think your handgun is going to help much with hunting, Langston.”

  “Maybe you can bore the poor creatures to death with your incessant whining.”

  “I wouldn’t have to whine if you didn’t kidnap me and leave us stranded on an uninhabited island!”

  I walk through a bush, pushing a branch back hard and then releasing it just as Liesel walks through. She catches it with one hand to avoid it hitting her face.

  “Real mature,” she says, pushing it back to walk through behind me. When she releases it, though, her hand is bloodied from the thorns on the branch.

  “Your hand,” I say, holding mine out.

  She shakes her head.

  “You need to clean it out and bandage it; you wouldn’t want to get an infection in the middle of nowhere, would you?”

  She glances around, and then a smug smile tric
kles over her lips. She hikes off the trail I’ve made and yanks a couple leaves off a nearby bush, then stomps back. She takes her water bottle, pours water over her wounds and applies the leaf to her hand.

  “There. This is an aloe vera leaf; it has medicinal powers. No infection.”

  I study the leaf closer. “Looks like poison ivy to me.”

  Her eyebrows jump up, and she goes to remove the leaves, but my heavy chuckle stops her.

  “I hate you.”

  I snicker. “Right back at you.”

  She stomps past me deciding to take the lead, which is fine by me. I can enjoy her ass so much better from this angle. But I do end up having to duck a lot to avoid branches hitting me.

  “And as for your kidnapping comment—I didn’t kidnap you, just held you to an arrangement we had.”

  She huffs, jumping over a fallen tree trunk. “One we made when we were five. I don’t think that counts. This is kidnapping, and as soon as I get back to the mainland, I’ll make sure you are punished for everything you do to me.”

  I look at her with a dark expression. “I didn’t think you were patient enough to wait to punish me until we get back.”

  “You’re right, I should punish you sooner.”

  “It’s getting dark; we should find a spot to sleep for the night.”

  Liesel wipes the sweat from her brow, and I know she’s relieved to not have to walk any further tonight.

  We are maybe twenty minutes or less from the house with air conditioning, a nice bed, a shower—all the things Liesel craves.

  But I’m the cruel bastard who is going to make her sleep in the dirt, in the heat, with mosquitos swarming.

  “Start collecting firewood, I’ll work on the fire,” she says.

  I like it when she’s bossy, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to let her be in control. “Do you remember how to start a fire? I’m guessing you haven’t been camping since we were kids?”

  “I can start a fire—just get the wood.”

  I hold back a smile as I collect wood and underbrush to start a fire. As warm as it is now, the first rule of camping under the stars is having a fire. Nights can get cold, and it will keep any wild animals from coming too close.

  I pull out another water bottle to drink and sit on a fallen tree as I watch Liesel struggle with the fire. She tries over and over again, getting more and more frustrated.