Sick Remedies (Pretty Lies, Ugly Truths Duet Book 2)

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Sick Remedies (Pretty Lies, Ugly Truths Duet Book 2) Page 11

by Natalie Bennett


  “Don’t be embarrassed,” he laughed.

  “You’re laughing!”

  He took hold of my wrists and pulled my hands away from my face, partially leaning over me. “Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?”

  “She’s crazy. She’s crying and talking to herself.”

  He laughed again before turning serious. “I thought a girl like you shouldn’t be alone.”

  Aw. That was unexpectedly sweet. I had felt alone that night, as I often did. Dad and Mom had an epic battle of words. Things were said that couldn’t be taken back, and all I’d wanted was one night where we could be a normal family on vacation.

  “They were so toxic together,” I sighed. “Kind-of like--.”

  “We’ll never be them,” he stated bluntly. “We have an unorthodox way of doing things, but it works for us. Our toxic pieces are two halves of one puzzle.”

  I blinked up at him. Its like he’d plucked that right from my brain.

  “What?” he asked, noticing my miffed expression.

  “Nothing.” I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, studying him. “I can’t believe you killed those people to get to me.”

  “I killed a lot of people to get to you Nova. Some who believed they were important to me. All to ensure you could be by my side without future conflicts.”

  “Okay, but those old people were innocents.”

  “They were collateral damage.”

  “Who else did you kill in the name of true love?” I joked, but secretly wanted to know.

  “No one important.”

  “So evasive,” I teased.

  “Why don’t we talk about the people you killed?” he retorted.

  “Psh. The girl who helped push my mother over the edge and two dudes who pissed me off? Mine were collateral damage too.”

  “So, you don’t regret it?”

  I considered the question before answering it. When I thought of Nika, the hurt and the anger prohibited me from feeling remorseful.

  Dredging up the emotions from in that moment had me ready to yell and scream. Maybe in the far-off future I’d feel bad, but I wasn’t going to try and force the feeling. Same with Martin Reedsy. As for Tony, he got exactly what he had coming to him.

  “I don’t feel guilty. Should I? Do you?”

  He shook his head. “I make peace with it the second I decide to do it.”

  He toyed with the ends of my fingertips, looking as if he were going to say something, but then changed his mind. That was okay, I wasn’t expecting us to start eating ice-cream and sharing all our sordid secreta and life events with one another.

  We needed to be at least six months in for that. I could wait.

  Expelling a puff of air, I traced my fingertips along his superb jawline. “So, you went through all of that, for some girl you saw crying on a beach? Why?”

  “The better question is, why not?”

  My mind drew a blank. I didn’t have an answer.

  “You know, not everything in life has to have some epic conclusion or reason behind it. I saw a gorgeous girl and spent two years learning all I could about who she was. Turns out, she’s fucking insane, and I love that about her.”

  “And here I was thinking you were my prince charming.”

  “This isn’t a fairytale. I’m not a hero, princess. Especially not for you. I never will be, but I can be your favorite villain.” He grinned.

  “I’ve known you were the villain since the first time you kissed me.” I shifted so my arms could wrap around his neck. “But guess what?”

  “What?” he played along, moving me with ease, spreading my legs so he could settle between them. “In this story, the heroines just as bad as the villain, and she’s fresh out of fucks to give.”

  He stared at me, an unreadable expression washing across his face. Lowering his mouth, his lips flirted with kissing mine. “You were made for me.” He kissed me then, pulling all the air from my lungs, forcing me to acknowledge the truth of what was between us.

  When he broke our connection, it was to remove my dress. A smile touched the corners of his mouth when he realized I hadn’t worn anything beneath it.

  He took his time removing his own clothing, unbuttoning his shirt agonizingly slow, raking his eyes down my naked form in the process. Once he was finally naked, he brought his sinewy body back to mine.

  His hands shoved my legs further apart, coming up to grip my hips. The head of his piercing slipped up and down my slit, smearing the arousal that was already gathered there.

  I held his gaze, silently begging him to fuck me. A slow Cheshire-like grin appeared the second he pushed into me and I gasped. My pussy wrapped around his cock like a glove. He brought a hand to the top of my head, tangling it my hair. He rocked forward once, causing me to whimper.

  “Nova,” he groaned, withdrawing completely and pushing back inside me. “Your pussy was made for my dick.”

  I wholly agreed, wrapping my legs around him and grabbing his perfect, toned ass to take more of it. He began to pump in and out of me with calculating, even thrust, holding my gaze with an intimacy he’d never shown me before. I held him close, moaning softly every other breath.

  “Say it back,” he commanded, pushing himself deeper.

  My mind scrambled to find the meaning of it. “I was made for you,” I conceded.

  He repeated his motion from before, hitting a spot inside me that me digging my nails into the back of his neck.

  “My pussy was made for your dick.”

  “Good girl,” he praised, picking up his pace.

  He set a rhythm, fucking me increasingly harder and harder, causing the headboard to create a steady beat against the wall.

  I cried out, his name, something between a moan and a scream, nonsensical words fell from my mouth. He pushed me towards a brink that promised an explosive rush of pleasure. Arousal spread from my thighs to his balls.

  He watched my face the entire time, as if committing every sound and expression to memory. I flew apart beneath him with a sob, clawing at him as my pussy contracted and heat turned my bones to mush. He continued to fuck me, making me come twice more before he followed once, pumping me full of his come. The bed was ruined. The comforter had wound up on the floor, sheets were saturated with come, sweat, and our juices. Both of us unable to move much than into one another, we cuddled together, him wrapping his arms around me.

  I curled into his side, swathing myself in the perfect remedy for my heavy, dirty soul.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  NOVA

  Rhys busied himself with packing before the sun could rise in the sky.

  Tripp had gone and successfully retrieved the flash-drive the day before, and now they had to go and return it. I for one, was happy to be sitting this adventure out. I had no interest in meeting the man my father had stole the thing from, consequently wrecking people’s lives.

  On an even bright note, Rhys had been humoring me for the past twenty minutes, answering whatever question I threw at him.

  “Will you be changing your persona this time?”

  “No. I only do that for certain jobs.”

  “So, pretending to be a murderous college-aged asshole is your actual job?”

  He laughed, the carefree laugh that I adored from the first time I’d ever heard it.

  “I am a murderous college-aged asshole, princess.”

  “Quit calling me that. You know I can’t stand it.”

  “You’ll learn to accept it.”

  He emerged from the bathroom, black suitcase in hand, donning another white button-down and black slacks. I was beginning to truly appreciate this sexy, dangerous business-man side of him.

  “Are you really twenty-four?”

  “I’m twenty-six,” he admitted.

  “Twenty-six and loaded,” I waved my hand around his bedroom. “How you get so rich?”

  “How did we get so rich?” he corrected my grammar with a frown. “I’m a collector.”
r />   I looked around thinking he meant of art or something, but there wasn’t anything like that in the house.

  “Of what?”

  “Things.”

  Hm. I squinted at him. “Still being vague, are we?”

  “I collect things that are hard to obtain,” he replied, albeit reluctantly.

  “Like flash-drives that are worth tons of money?”

  “Flash-drives. People. Evidence…”

  “Why was that so hard for you to tell me?” I eased off the bed and marched towards him, wearing nothing but one of his big cozy t-shirts.

  He sat his suitcase down and pulled me into his orbit. “Ask no questions, and you’ll get no lies.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You already know too much. If I tell you any more of the truth, you’ll wish you had the lies. They’re easier to accept.”

  “We can’t have our entire relationship be built on lies Rhys. That’s how we started.”

  He took hold of my shoulders and turned me around so that my back was to his chest.

  “That isn’t what I was saying.” He brushed my hair to one side. Something cool touched my neck, I looked down, a small gasp escaping when I saw my butterfly pendant.

  “You really fixed it?” I tilted my head back to look up at him. “Thank you.”

  “I knew it was important to you.” He clasped the new buckle and righted my hair, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. “I have to make a phone call, and there’s someone waiting for you in the dining room.” He stared down at the top of my thighs. “After you get dressed.”

  I smothered a laugh and nodded, raising up to kiss his cheek.

  Of course, I wanted to know who he was calling and why, but he had every right to privacy. I refused to be that girl. I left him standing in the center of the room and went to put on some actual clothes.

  She didn’t look any different.

  I wasn’t sure why I expected her to, it’d been literal days since I last saw her. I entered the dining room, skipping past tons of empty chairs until I got to the one that was across from hers.

  She watched me approach with a hint of a smile, but her expression was more closed off than I’d ever seen it.

  I pulled out a chair and sat down, helping myself to the cheese and meet tray someone amazing had set out.

  “So, we’re dead,” I began.

  “Our lives are ruined, you mean?” she tried to joke, failing.

  “I know it feels like that, and it may for a while, but your life isn’t ruined. You can still be whoever you want to be and do whatever you want to do.”

  “Except, I can’t be myself.”

  I loaded up a cracker, and sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say Em. I’m sorry. I never wanted you to be involved in any of this.”

  “I know that. I thought we would be able to figure out our problems together. I had to learn the hard way that some problems can’t be fixed, especially when they run in the family.”

  Ouch. That was definitely a personal jab at me, and she wasn’t wrong.

  It hurt, but instead of crying about it, I laughed. “Finally growing some balls, huh? It’s about time.”

  She looked away from me, glancing back up with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Nono. I didn’t mean that.”

  “It’s ok--.”

  “It’s not okay. No one should be able to take advantage of you like that.”

  Now, I was totally lost. Having no idea what she was talking about, I simply nodded. She looked like she had more to say, so I waited patiently.

  “They told me I could go anywhere I wanted. I’m not going to leave you with these people to fend for yourself, that’s not even an option. I don’t want to leave you at all, but there’s no way I can be around that disgusting pig any longer. I don’t even want to look at him, Nova.”

  Okay, so some of this was stemming from Callum.

  And now that I really looked at her, she did seem different. Tired, worried. Wasn’t that natural, though? We all handled are tragedies the only way we knew how. She’d had her whole world flipped upside and torn apart, I had no idea what was going on within her head.

  I remained statue still, whereas I usually would have offered my shoulder to cry on, I knew that wasn’t what she needed right now. I worried if I said the wrong thing she would shatter.

  “Emmy, I’m wounded.” Callum walked into the room with his natural swagger reminding me of Rhys, a cocky grin on his face.

  “Why do you keep following me like some pathetic puppy?” Emery snapped at him, more venom in her tone than I’d ever heard come from her our entire friendship.

  I almost pointed out that guys like Callum enjoyed a chase.

  It was blindingly apparent to see, and this was coming from me, a girl who had less to no experience with men. Again, though, this was her personal life. I’d only get involved if she wanted me to. So, I sat there awkwardly and watched the train crash.

  “You’re right, Em. I just can’t get enough of you. That’s why I’ve just decided you’ll be staying for good. In my bed.”

  If looks could kill, he’d have been twelve feet under.

  “Sadly, you don’t get to decide.”

  He stalked towards her chair, leaning low to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he said earned him a slap across the face. The sound seemed to echo twice as loud in the massive room.

  I pretended not to have seen it, focusing on a new set of meat and cheese. When I dared glance up again, Emery’s chair was empty and Callum was staring at me.

  His silent stare asked a dozen different questions. Of course, I wanted to flay his goddamn balls and demand a full exposition on what the hell was going on between them, but when Emery wanted to discuss it with me, she would. I’d gone through this with her before, minus the violence. Once she came to me and spilled the tea, then I would kick his ass all over the house.

  “Not my monkey, not my circus,” I finally said as way of explanation.

  “If only I had seen you first,” he sighed dramatically. A boyish smile splashed across his face. Damn, he was a cutie. The hotter the more psychotic, though.

  “Don’t let Rhys hear you say that,” Evie said, walking in the room with Angel and Tripp.

  “He already did,” Rhys, replied, coming from the opposite direction. This house was way too big.

  “Were you all just eavesdropping?”

  “Duh,” Angel scoffed. “In case you needed reinforcements.”

  “For?” I questioned, more than a little confused.

  “You’re not the only who has problems,” Evie replied, a hint of disdain swarming her tone, no longer directed at me.

  “We’ve gotta go,” Rhys spoke before anyone else could. I got the feeling he’d just given a gag order, without needing to actually say he was giving a gag order.

  “Will you be okay here?” he asked, coming to crouch beside my chair.

  “I’m not going to run away,” I snipped, causing the room to laugh.

  “I know,” he replied with all his usual cockiness.

  “We’ll be waiting in the car,” Angel announced loudly, rallying everyone out of the room.

  On her way past us, Evie gave me a smile that said, let’s be friends.

  I was immediately suspicious. What made her do a complete one-eighty?

  “She’s trying,” Rhys answered my private thought. “She’s protective of us, and you’re not the only one your father hurt with the choices he made.”

  “Geez, way to make me feel like a mega-bitch,” I quipped.

  “Stay out of my head.”

  “Why would I do that? It’s my favorite place to cause chaos.”

  I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. I didn’t think he was joking.

  “You sure you’re okay?” his voice was gentle, full of genuine concern.

  “I’ll be just fine,” I lied.

  “This is for you.”

  Feeling something against my palm, I glanced down at
a sleek cellphone. It was trivial sure, but the meaning behind the gesture, at least for us, was huge. He was trusting me.

  “Once I’m gone, go find the room I told you about.”

  I nodded, leaning into his touch when he gripped my face and turned it towards him, leaving me with a kiss that I would feel long after he left.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  NOVA

  I didn’t see Emery the rest of the day.

  I’d tried looking for her, but the house was too damn big with way too many rooms.

  I wound up outside the door Rhys had directed me to, turning the knob as if a bomb would trigger from within once I opened it.

  Before it could fully open, I smelled one of my favorite things in the world. I stepped inside and felt for the light switch, clicking it up when I discovered it. Neatly stacked rows of canvas were sat against the back wall, all mine. To the right were at least a dozen waiting to be graced with the swirl of a brush.

  In the center of the room was one all by its lonesome. The setting was a forest of dead trees, and broken branches. They represented the feeling of fear and desperation the wounded rabbit below felt.

  Bite marks pierced its spine, turning pure white fur red. Far away was an open field, above it a stormy, lightning-lit sky.

  It was an illusion of hope.

  Pursuing the rabbit, a wolf. Its silver eyes stared out at me, tinges of black and blue mixed in their centers. When I’d painted it not too long ago the inspiration had been simple.

  Predator and prey.

  Hunter and hunted.

  Rhys and me.

  He must have felt the same to of put it of all my pieces on display.

  I was struck with the overwhelming urge to recreate it.

  Looking around the room, I laughed to myself, spotting an unopened bottle of tequila beside on a corner desk.

  He knew me far too well.

  I set-up shop, hunting down all I would need, including a glass of ice. Once I began, I didn’t stop for anything other than another shot.

  I started with the basics of the first image, adding a faint hue of red to the wolf, yellow to the rabbit. Mixing them together gave me a brilliant shade of orange, the color of balance and warmth. Strength and security. Optimism and adventure. Of happiness.

 

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