Hateful Lies

by Liv Reid

  “We still have a party to plan. You can’t get out of it by avoiding me.”

  “Fine,” she whispers back angrily.

  I can tell she’s trying to get me to go away as quickly as possible because she thinks I’m being too loud and interrupting the class.

  “Come to my place at seven,” I tell her.

  “Fine.”

  She turns her back to me, and it makes my blood boil and my heart ache. I get up and storm out of the lecture hall.

  22

  V

  I don’t want to do this, but I have to if I want to stay in school. I can’t risk getting kicked out of the Dark Society—no matter how much I’d like to. I sigh and walk up the front steps of the club’s headquarters. I know Logan and some of the other high-ranking members live here on the top floors of the mansion.

  I go inside and am immediately greeted by a housekeeper who’s suspicious of me.

  “Can I help you?” she asks, as she looks me up and down, taking in my faux leather skirt, cheap black pantyhose, and jean jacket. Clearly judging that I don’t belong here.

  “Can you show me to Logan Aston’s room?”

  She gets a knowing look on her face and tells me to follow her. My cheeks burn. She thinks I’m here to fuck him.

  We walk up the polished wooden stairs to the top of the three-story building. In all the meetings I’ve attended here, I’ve never seen the upper floors of the house. They are beautiful and way more modern than I would have thought. She leads me down a hall and knocks on the door at the end.

  I hear a British voice call out through the closed door. The housekeeper turns to me and says, “He’ll be out in a minute,” before walking away and leaving me to stand alone in the hallway.

  I shuffle my feet anxiously. I was nervous coming here and waiting is giving me a tension headache. I just want to get this over with.

  A minute later, the door swings open, and Rhett is standing there.

  “Hello, beautiful! Come on in.” He sweeps his arm to the side in a welcoming gesture, inviting me in.

  “Thanks.” I walk into their apartment.

  It’s also way more modern than I would have guessed. It’s large, clean and tastefully decorated with expensive furniture, but you can still tell that guys live here. There are beer bottles scattered around and a bong on the coffee table. In one corner of the room is a living room area with a massive TV—the biggest I’ve ever seen in my life. There’s a kitchen and a dining area in the other corners.

  “You live here too?” I ask.

  “Yup! Just me and Logan. He’ll be out in a minute. He’s just finishing showering.”

  “He knew I was coming at seven. He set the time,” I grumble.

  I’m annoyed but not surprised he’s making me wait. He’s so inconsiderate. He doesn’t care about anyone else’s time but his own.

  “Have a seat.” Rhett motions towards one of several couches. With his untamable black hair and the stubble on his sculpted jaw, he always looks a bit wild.

  “This apartment is way nicer than Everly’s and mine.”

  I see his mouth twitch when I mention Everly.

  “We pay for it with our souls,” he jokes ominously. “Want a beer?”

  “Nah, I’m good. I still have studying to do later.”

  Even though Rhett’s never done anything to me, he’s Logan’s roommate so I have to keep my guard up around him.

  “A good girl. I appreciate that.” He gives me a mischievous smile. Is he flirting with me? “Mind if I have one?”

  “No, suit yourself.”

  He grabs a bottle from the fridge, opens it and comes to sit in a chair next to me.

  “So you guys are planning your dinner party thing, huh?” He casually starts a conversation.

  I’ve always found him charming in a kind of wildcard-way. In a way where you aren’t sure what you’re going to get. He strikes me as someone who can never stay quiet. Someone who loves to banter and poke people’s buttons, but only just enough to where you’re on the brink of hating him then he does something redeeming and you’re back to being charmed by him. Cheeky. That’s the perfect word to describe him.

  “Yeah, unfortunately. Ours is the first one so we have about two weeks to put it together,” I answer.

  “Shame, that. Ours is near the end of the school year—thank God. How are you finding working with Logan?” His eyes narrow mischievously.

  What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did Logan tell him about us almost hooking up in the library? I’m going to be so pissed if he did. Sure, I told Everly, but I made her swear not to say anything. I know I can trust her, but Rhett? Logan should have known better.

  “It’s fine,” I answer warily. “Why?”

  “Just wondering is all. Was mostly wondering if you’d prefer to be my partner.” He smiles cheekily with his tongue between his teeth. “I’m quite the catch. I make a mean soufflé.”

  “Do you?” I ask in surprise.

  “Well, I know how to get my chef to make one, and they make a mean one.”

  I laugh in relief. He’s joking around with me. Even if Logan told him, which I pray he didn’t, Rhett’s not trying to be an asshole about it. He’s just joking around… and maybe flirting a little?

  He’s cute, I’ve always thought so, and his accent is sexy as hell, but since I started at Crowned College I’ve been way too busy to even contemplate having a love life. I don’t have time for boys right now.

  An image of Logan and I in the library flashes through my mind. His body pressing mine roughly into the bookshelf.

  My cheeks flush uncomfortably.

  “Actually, could I get a bottle of water if you have it?” I need to cool down.

  “Sure.” Rhett hops up and heads to the kitchen.

  Speak of the devil—actually, “thinking of the devil” is more accurate—Logan chooses this exact moment to walk into the room.

  He’s wearing a grey tank top that shows off his tattooed arms and sweatpants that hug dangerously low on his hips. His dark hair is still dripping from the shower.

  “About time,” I say.

  His eyes narrow on me. “I just came from a boxing workout. Would you prefer I stunk?”

  “I would prefer you told me to come later if you weren’t going to be ready on time.”

  We glare at each other, neither of us backing down. Rhett looks between the two of us warily before saying, “Oooook, I’ll leave you two alone.”

  He starts to walk over to a door on the other side of the apartment, which I assume is his room, when Logan says, “Are you sure you want to leave? Maybe you want to stay here and be Violet’s partner instead of me.”

  There’s an awkward moment before Rhett says, “I didn’t mean anything by it, man. I was just joking around with her.”

  Logan is clearly pissed at Rhett, and I don’t know why—and Rhett doesn’t seem to know either. Logan’s acting almost… jealous? But there’s no way. He hates me. And besides, we just made out in a library once, it’s not like we are soulmates or anything. We are more like hatemates.

  Logan’s still glaring at him, and I can tell Rhett is starting to get annoyed.

  “Whatever. You’re crazy, dude,” Rhett mumbles and then walks into his room and shuts the door.

  It’s just the two of us now. Alone. The tension in the room is thick, almost suffocating.

  I’m the first to break the silence when I can’t stand it anymore. “Let’s get this over with. Where do you want to do it?”

  His eyes shoot to mine, and the lust I see in them burns right through me. I suddenly realize what I just said and look away. “I mean plan. Where do you want to plan the party?”

  He takes a deep breath, and I see him adjust his pants. I try not to look, but I can’t help but sneak a peek.

  “Here. We can do it at the table.”

  I walk over, and we both sit down awkwardly at his dining table. We pick up where we left off last time, before we started arguing and I
stormed off. Before he chased me and then—Don’t think about it.

  But it’s hard not to when his body is so close to mine. Just his proximity is making me burn and making my brain feel foggy.

  He continues to make lists of what we’ll need, and I read him the responses I received from the caterers. There’s a huge elephant in the room because we haven’t addressed what happened between us in the library. It’s not something you can just ignore, but that is exactly what we are both trying to do.

  The sexual tension is off the charts, and it’s putting us on edge. It’s not surprising when we quickly end up fighting about something stupid, like what type of hor d'oeuvres to serve.

  We are arguing so loudly Rhett comes out of his room to ask if everything is ok.

  “Everything is fine,” Logan snaps. “We are just planning a party.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it. It sounds like you two are arguing over which one gets the last parachute and the plane’s about to crash.”

  “We were just deciding…” I begin, but then realize I can’t even remember what started the fight.

  Rhett smirks at us, and I don’t like it. It feels like he’s laughing at us about something we don’t understand. Yeah, we got out of control, but it wasn’t my fault. It was Logan’s.

  “Well, I hope you two can keep it down. I’ve got a pretty, young lass coming over, and I don’t want her to get scared away by all the screaming—I want her to be the one doing the screaming.” He winks, and I roll my eyes. There’s a knock at the door. “Speak of the angel.”

  He goes over to open the door while Logan and I look down, embarrassed but still angry. Rhett’s girl comes in, and I don’t recognize her. She’s very pretty with short blonde hair and a septum piercing. He introduces her to us.

  “This is the lovely Jessica. Lovely Jessica, these are the angry party planners. Don’t get too close or they’ll bite.”

  She waves uncomfortably, unsure of how to act.

  “Want a drink?” he asks.

  “Sure!”

  They go into the kitchen, and Logan and I sit awkwardly. I’m not sure what to do next. Maybe I should just leave. I’m still worked up from the fight, and I don’t know how much more work we are going to get done tonight. Then I feel a hand on my thigh.

  Neither of us move, except for Logan’s large hand creeping up my leg. He’s moving agonizingly slowly. His warm fingers trail up my thigh, leaving paths of electricity in their wake.

  Rhett and that girl are still occupied in the kitchen and haven’t noticed—I actually don’t know if they’d be able to see where Logan’s hand is with the table in the way, but the fear of getting caught is making it hotter.

  I wanted to rip Logan’s head off just moments ago, but now all I want is to feel him against me. I want him to touch where I crave it the most.

  His hand slips under my skirt and keeps going. Slowly. Painfully slowly.

  I’ve thought about this constantly since the library—but I would never tell him that. I’d never give him the satisfaction. He’s already too cocky for his own good, so I don’t want him to know how turned on he’s making me.

  His hand finally reaches my core. At that exact moment, Rhett turns around and offers Logan a drink.

  I jump up and quickly push his hand away.

  “Well, I better be going!” I say cheerily to try to cover up how shaken I am.

  Logan gives me a piercing look that I try to ignore. I say goodbye to all of them and quickly get out of there. I practically sprint out of the house.

  When I make it outside into the cold evening air, I feel like I can finally breathe again. Back in Logan’s apartment, it felt like I was drowning in sexual tension and need.

  I shake my head to clear it. I need to get a grip. He’s no good for me, and I need to remember that—no matter how unbelievably hot he is. I need to do a better job of staying away from him.

  I start walking back to my dorm. It’s already dark out, and because it’s a weeknight, the campus is practically abandoned.

  About halfway back to my building, I start to get a creepy feeling. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and unexplainable dread floods through me. I look around, but I can’t see anything that would cause alarm. I start to walk quicker.

  Soon, I manage to pinpoint what I’m feeling. I think I’m being followed. Without stopping, I look behind me. I think I catch a momentary glimpse of a dark figure in a group of trees next to the path, but it’s almost pitch black and I’m not sure. It could just be the shadows of the trees playing tricks on my already stressed mind.

  Maybe I’m just imagining a physical manifestation of my guilt? I did just get felt up by the guy whose father killed mine—and I’ve been fantasizing about him for the last three days. Maybe this dark shadow will haunt me for the rest of my life now.

  Guilt gnaws away at my insides. Tonight was the last time, though. From now on, no matter how much I want Logan Aston, I’m not going to give in. No matter how sexy he is, no matter how much he pushes my buttons, I’m going to remember that I hate him—I just have to keep reminding myself.

  I get back to my dorm safely and collapse into bed.

  23

  V

  It’s finally the weekend of the big party, and I’m just excited to get it over with. Logan and I haven’t interacted much in person since I went over to his apartment a couple of weeks ago to plan. We’ve communicated mostly through email and text to make the last of the arrangements.

  I’m purposely avoiding him so another situation like the one in the library, or the one in his apartment where he felt me up under the table, doesn’t happen again. If we aren’t physically together, then nothing can happen—but this weekend we are going to be in the same house for two days, and I’m dreading it. I’m just going to try to avoid him as best I can and hope the weekend goes by smoothly and quickly.

  Everly and I are driving up to the beach house together in her car. Mine broke down and the mechanic told me it’ll cost three hundred dollars to fix it, so for right now I’m car-less. Also, it’s probably better I don’t have my car with me because it would stick out like a sore thumb parked next to all the luxury sports cars of the Dark Society members.

  It’s about a two-hour drive, and we made a playlist full of cheesy 90s songs to entertain ourselves. Everly and I dance in our seats and sing along in our off-key voices all the way. It’s so much fun that I’m disappointed when we finally make it to the house. I want to keep driving and go somewhere far away from here.

  We pull into the long driveway, and I’m surprised by how quaint the place is. I thought it would be a ridiculous and over-the-top mansion on the water, but I’m pleasantly surprised. It’s large—of course—but it doesn’t feel like their mansion, which is covered in marble and dripping in crystal. This place feels homey somehow. It feels like a proper vacation house on the beach.

  We walk up and knock on the seafoam green front door. A few seconds later, yet again, a housekeeper answers. Who has a housekeeper for their holiday home? She brings us inside and shows us the rooms we can choose from. We decide on one on the main floor next to the kitchen because it has two beds and a private washroom.

  Logan hasn’t arrived yet, and I’m annoyed but not surprised. Everly and I start setting things up and making arrangements for when the caterers get here.

  Eventually, the other guests start arriving. The housekeeper shows the ones who are staying the night where their rooms are. I feel awkward trying to host all these people. Firstly, it’s not my house, secondly, I’ve never done anything like this before, and thirdly, I definitely don’t belong here. Luckily, Everly takes over hosting duties and for that I’m eternally grateful to her.

  The arriving members mostly just want to get drunk, so we don’t have to do too much besides pour drinks for the first hour until finally Logan shows up. He walks into the kitchen where Everly and I are mixing margaritas, and I jump, almost spilling the blender.

  He has sunglasse
s on, and when he takes them off it looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. There are big bags under his hazel eyes. He doesn’t look any less handsome though—damn him.

  “Rough night?” Everly asks with raised eyebrows.

  “You could say that,” he says in a course voice. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Hosting parties is stressful,” she jokes.

  “That’s not the reason.” He looks right at me like he’s trying to see into my mind.

  I turn away from him and turn on the blender. The loud noise drowns out any further conversation.

  I’ve only seen him for just a moment and already my cheeks are flushed and I’m feeling like I’m having trouble thinking straight. This weekend is going to be hell.

  The other guests continue to trickle in, and Rhett is the final one to arrive. Once he’s here, the partying starts in earnest. Heston came as well. And even though I don’t like it, there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll just have to avoid him too.

  I really don’t know what I’m doing, so I assign myself drink duty in the kitchen. Also, I mix a mean cocktail. My partner, meanwhile, is the life of the party.

  Logan works the room like he was born to host. He’s charming and social and confident. He’s flirting shamelessly with all the girls, and they are flirting right back—and I hate that I feel a twinge of jealousy whenever I see it.

  He’s changed so much from the guy I knew in high school. He’s always been kind of cocky and arrogant, but he was quiet and brooding before. Is this the real him? But I know what lurks beneath that smiling exterior. I’ve gotten glimpses into his mind, and it’s a dark place.

  The day progresses into the early evening, and I suddenly realize Heston has been helping me more than Logan. All day, Heston has been taking drink orders from guests and then taking the finished drinks I’ve made out to them. To be honest, I appreciate the help, but the fact it’s coming from him is making me incredibly uncomfortable. I’m just waiting for the mask to drop and for him to reveal his true, evil self.