Discovering Alexis: Truths & Lies (Bad Boy Rebels Book 7)

by Jessica Sorensen

  Table of Contents

  Fishbowls

  I think I’ve gone mad

  Truths

  Holding hands

  Dungeons & chains

  A cloud of death hanging over my head

  Not the most ideal situation

  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Sorensen

  Discovering Alexis: Truths & Lies

  (Bad Boy Rebels, #7)

  Jessica Sorensen

  Contents

  Fishbowls

  I think I’ve gone mad

  Truths

  Holding hands

  Dungeons & chains

  A cloud of death hanging over my head

  Not the most ideal situation

  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Sorensen

  Discovering Alexis: Truths & Lies

  Jessica Sorensen

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2017 by Jessica Sorensen

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  For information: jessicasorensen.com

  Cover Design by MaeIDesign

  Created with Vellum

  Fishbowls

  Alexis

  I feel like I’m swimming in a fishbowl, going round and round. My head spins, like a top, and my arms and legs are rubbery. And as I funnel around in the water, everyone watches. My older brother Loki. My older sister Jessamine. My younger brother Nik. My twin sister Zhara. Even my parents are there, staring through the glass, as if they’ve risen from the grave. Only they don’t look like zombies. In fact, they look just how I remember them. Happy and smiley. Although, my mom’s eyes carry a drop of pain. I don’t know why I never noticed that before. Did she when she was alive? Was she hurting? Why?

  One thing’s for sure. I’m definitely hurting now. I wish I knew why.

  What happened to me? Why do I feel like I’m dreaming?

  As I float around in the giant fishbowl, pondering those questions, answers begin to creep through my hazy mind. Blaine and Masie kissing. My car getting stolen. That weird ass card I found. Running away. West finding me… him kissing my neck… touching me…

  My mind becomes distracted, my thoughts consumed by West. Suddenly he’s the only one staring at me in the fishbowl. But he looks distorted through the glass and his eyes are crammed with concern. He’s worried. Why?

  A brief memory rushes over me of falling out of West’s car and landing on the sidewalk. A needle sinks into my skin and then… Well, and then I can’t remember.

  “What’s happening to me?” I murmur as I struggle to swim with the swirling motion of a sudden current.

  West presses his hand to the fishbowl and watches me float round and round. “You need to wake up.”

  “I’m not awake?” I ask as the water begins to drag me down.

  He shakes his head, strands of his blonde hair falling into his eyes. “No. And if you don’t wake up soon, you’ll get stuck here.”

  Panic flares through my body. I hate the water almost as much as I loathe the color pink, which is saying a lot because I fucking hate the color of pink.

  “Help me!” I shout as I struggle to swim, kicking my legs and paddling my arms.

  “I can’t.” His eyes plead for me to understand. “You need to do this on your own.”

  “I can’t.” I gasp for air. “I’m not strong enough.”

  “Yes, you are, Alexis,” he says. “You can do this.”

  “Do what!” I cry as water waves over my head. “There’s nowhere to go.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “Where!”

  He blows out a breath. “To the bottom.”

  I gape at him, “You want me to drown!”

  “No, I want you to start from the beginning because you can’t go forward until you do.”

  “Thanks for the insightful advice.” My tone drips with sarcasm. A wave crashes over me and panic takes over again. “Please, West, help me.”

  “I’m trying to,” he insists. “But you need to trust me.”

  “I don’t trust anyone and for good reasons.”

  “I know. But have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

  I shake my head from side to side. “No.”

  He carries my gaze. “Okay, then stop fighting it. Come back so we can start over.”

  With a shaky nod, I let my body go still, allowing the current to drag me downward. Then I sink into the water, all the way to the bottom of the fishbowl. I hold my breath and wait. And wait. And wait…

  Darkness replaces the water. Takes me over. Possesses me.

  I can’t breathe!

  I try to gasp for air, but nothing happens. My skin begins to burn, scorching hot, as if I’m about to erupt into flames. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t move.

  I think I’m dying.

  I think I’ve died before.

  The thought sideswipes me out of nowhere, and suddenly I feel fingers around my neck. I gasp for air. Then everything goes black.

  I think I’ve gone mad

  Alexis

  My eyelids shoot open and I suck in a huge breath of air. Light instantly blinds me and panic courses through my body, along with a fiery pain. The sensation is way too similar to what I felt in my dream and an unsettling feeling weighs down on me.

  Something’s wrong. My body is broken or something. My mind is broken. I’m dead.

  I’ve been dead before.

  The thought causes adrenaline to course through my veins. Why do I keep thinking this? Am I dead? Did I die?

  Then why do I feel awake? And why does my skin feel so hot.

  “I can’t see anything,” I whisper, blinking my eyes several times. “Am I blind?”

  “No, you’re just panicking.” The unfamiliar deep voice startles the shit out of me.

  Great. Not only am I blind, confused, and maybe on fire, but also a strange dude is with me.

  I rack my brain for memories of how I ended up in this position. All I can remember is the fishbowl dream, thinking I’m dying, and that I’ve been dead before.

  What’s happening to me?

  Panic blasts through my veins and the heat under my skin increases, my pulse skyrocketing. I feel as though I’m in a sauna.

  “Are you the one who stabbed the needle into my arm?” I ask tensely, wishing to God I could see where I am, see the stranger, see something,

  He chuckles. Fucking chuckles. And the sound makes me grit my teeth.

  “No, sweetheart, I’m not.” His amusement is annoying. “If I was, though, you probably should be more frightened.”

  I don’t believe him. He had to have kidnapped me.

  Trust no one, Alexis. Ever. Once you do, you’ll end. My mom whispered those words to me once, granted she was drunk, which is why the last part didn’t make much sense. Still, after she died, I took those words to heart. I rarely trust anyone and I’m not about to start now.

  “Great, you’re one of those creepy pervs who gets their ki
cks off of frightened women.” I shake my head, disgusted and freaked out. But I’m not about to show my emotions. I need to stay calm. Need to pretend I’m not scared shitless. Need to pretend my skin doesn’t feel as if it’s on fire. “Is that why you tranquilized me and then took me?”

  “So you’re calling me a liar? That’s pretty brave of you.” The heavy silence that follows his statement makes my anxiety soar. “Obviously, you’re one of those stupid girls who doesn’t know when to keep their mouths shut.” His low tone sends a chill up my spine, but the heat in my body quickly wipes the sensation away. “Because if I had kidnapped you, this would be the part where I punish you for talking back to me.” A cold palm cups my cheek.

  I jerk back, but another palm molds over my other cheek, and my face becomes trapped between a pair of hands. My insides shiver, but I refuse to show any signs of being scared.

  “Let me go.” Frustration rumbles through me.

  This would be a hell of a lot easier if I could see him.

  Then again, maybe not. Perhaps he’s as creepy looking as he sounds.

  “Again, I stress, if I had kidnapped you, this would be the part where I punish you for talking back.” His grip on my face tightens, not in a painful way, but the added pressure makes me feel even more trapped.

  And the startling heat blaring inside my body is only adding to my skittishness.

  What on earth happened to me? What sort of drugs did this guy inject into me? Is the heat a side effect? Is that why I felt like I was dying?

  I gulp as he drags his finger back and forth across my lips. Yep, this guy is definitely a creepy pervert. This isn’t good. At all.

  I’m so screwed.

  And where the heck is West? Did he get kidnapped too? Or did this guy just take off with me?

  “Let go of me.” I aim for a firm tone but epically fail. “And stop touching my lips. Who knows where the hell your hands have been.”

  He fucking chuckles. Again. And it pisses me off. Well, more than I already am.

  “You’re feistiness isn’t going to do any good right now. It’s only going to encourage me.” He traces his finger across my mouth again, as if to prove a point. That he holds all the power over the situation.

  Powerless. I feel so powerless. It’s scaring me a bit. And pissing me off.

  “I’ll f-fight you.” I despise my uneven tone. “Whatever you’re planning on doing to me, I’m going to fight you. I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

  “And what exactly do you think I’m going to do to you?” He sounds amused as his finger brushes across my lips again.

  “Who the hell knows, but I’m sure it probably involves living out your disgusting, perverted, creeper fantasies. Sucks for you, though, because it’s not going to happen.” Then I open my mouth and sink my teeth into his finger.

  Take that, fucker.

  Unfortunately, he doesn’t jerk back, allowing my teeth to sink deeper into his finger.

  Lovely. He’s a freak who loves pain. That’s going to make fighting back a pain in the ass.

  Still, I continue to sink my teeth into his flesh until I feel a soft pinch through the fabric of my shirt, right below my left breast.

  I wince and jerk back, releasing his finger from my teeth. “Ow. What the hell.”

  “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.” He pauses and the silence drives me mad. “And just for future record, when you go through with your fighting back plan, you should probably know that biting turns me on more than it hurts me.” His low tone conveys a silent warning that I’m unsure I fully comprehend.

  I force down a shaky breath, trying to collect my nerves. Then my lips part to fire back a comeback, but my vision suddenly comes back into focus and my jaw snaps shut as I realize where I am.

  What the heck? This is West’s bedroom. I know because I helped him paint the walls and hang up decorations when he moved in.

  Oh my God, I’m in West’s bedroom. In West’s bed. With West’s comforter pulled over me. And now that I’m paying attention, I can smell West’s scent on the blanket. The problem is the guy sitting on the edge of the bed isn’t West.

  He has short brown hair, a faint scar along his hairline, and his eyes are a crazy shade of silver. He’s wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark jeans, a thick, leather watch covers his wrist, and a barbell piercing decorates his arched eyebrow. He’s gorgeous, but in a scary, intense, bad boy sort of way, kind of like West only way more intimidating. I don’t know why, but it feels like I know him from somewhere, but I can’t place from where.

  “You look confused,” the guys says, observing me with his head tilted to the side. “Can you see now?”

  I consider lying. After all, if he did kidnap me, it might be beneficial to have the upper hand. But if he did kidnap me then why am I in West’s bedroom?

  I decide to ignore his question. “Where’s West?”

  His gaze bores into me as he studies me closely—too closely. “He’s around.”

  Okaaay… That’s vague… And not very reassuring. “Who are you?”

  Again, his stare is unnerving. “Well, according to you, I’m a creepy pervert.”

  “Maybe you are.” I’m pushing my luck. But I hate backing down from cocky people and everything about this guy screams, no one ever tells me no.

  He crooks a brow. “Do I look like a creepy pervert?”

  I shrug. I don’t even know why I do it. It’s not like he looks creepy, but sometimes appearances can be deceiving. Trust me, I know. It’s why I went from a pink and frilly sort of girl, to a girl who rocks a lot of black clothes, clunky boots, and leather jackets. Changing my style helped me alter my sweet girl image that I wanted to get rid of after my parents died.

  “It’s hard to tell if someone’s a creepy perv just by looking at them.” I eyeball the distance to the door, contemplating if I should run for it. “And you do look sort of scary and intense.”

  His intensely scary eyes bore into me. “Oh I do, do I?”

  I nod, slowly sitting up, deciding that I need to at least try to get out of here. “Yeah, you kind of do.” I suck in a breath through my nose and then mentally count backwards from five. When I reach one, I fling the covers off me and bolt upright, ready to flee.

  I barely get my feet under me before his arm loops around my waist. He effortlessly pulls me onto the bed and onto his lap with my back pressed to his chest and my ass against his manly goodies. The scent of his cologne engulfs my nostrils as he dips his lips toward my ear.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he whispers in a low tone that I swear feels threatening.

  Warning flags start to pop up everywhere. This isn’t a drill, Alexis. This isn’t a drill. You’ve really been kidnapped.

  I’ve never been one for showing vulnerability so instead of panicking, I growl out, “Who the hell are you and why did you bring me to West’s apartment? Does he know you’re here with me or did you do something to him?” Then to prove I’m a badass chick, I fling my head backwards straight into his face.

  “Fuck,” he grits out in pain, his hold on me loosening,

  I seize the opportunity to fling my weight forward and slip out from his hold. Then I run like hell across the room and throw the door open. But I slam to a stop as a guy with dark brown hair and a scruffy jawline steps up and blocks the doorway.

  He takes one look at my face then raises his hands in front of him. “Just calm down. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “Calm down. Are you fucking shitting me? This guy,” I gesture at the guy in the room, “Kidnapped me. And I’m guessing you helped him since you’re here. And you want me to just calm down.”

  He blinks at me in shock. “No one kidnapped you.” His shock quickly wears off as he slants his head to the side to scowl at the guy in the room behind me. “Steel, what the hell did you do?”

  So the asshole in the room’s name is Steel. Seems fitting, especially with that crazy silver eye color.

>   “I didn’t do anything.” He gets up from the bed with his hand cupped over his nose. “She panicked before I could tell her what was going on.”

  I shake my head. “I’ve been awake for at least five minutes and you’ve told me nothing, other than that I was stupid and that if you did kidnap me, I should be more frightened.”

  Steel gives me a dirty look, but I detect the faintest amused smile playing at his lips. Apparently, he thinks my attitude is entertaining, which would definitely be a first.

  The guy in the doorway sighs. “I knew he shouldn’t have let you keep an eye on her by yourself.”

  I glance back at him. “Why is anyone watching me… And where’s West?”

  The guy in the doorway trades an unreadable look with Steel before his gaze settles back on me. “West is around.”

  I cross my arms and stare him down. “Quit being vague and give me a damn answer.”

  Steel snorts a derisive laugh. “Word of advice. If you ever do get kidnapped, you should probably keep your mouth shut. Because if we had kidnapped you, this would be the point where I lose my cool.”

  I peer over my shoulder at Steel, hoping I don’t look as nervous as I feel. “You say that like you’re an expert kidnapper.”

  “Either that or I’ve been kidnapped a lot,” he replies in an emotionless tone.

  My head spins with dizziness. What in the wild monkeys is going on? How did I get here? And who are these guys?

  I’m about to demand some answers when the guy in the doorway sighs again.

  “We didn’t kidnap you,” he says. “Nor do we plan on kidnapping you. West is in the apartment in a… special room doing special things.”

  I cock a brow. “Special things? Do I even want to know what that’s code for? Because it sounds like he’s locked up in some room, living out some sort of perverted fetish.”

  “I think you might be a little obsessed with the concept of perverted,” Steel says. “Makes me wonder how perverted you are.”