Desperate Lies

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Desperate Lies Page 14

by Ella Miles


  This is unthinkable for her to endure.

  Except, she’s endured it before. And she came back. Why did she come back?

  I look at Beckett—it’s obvious what he’s required to do next, but he’s just standing there still as a statue, unsure. Does he touch her and endure my wrath, or does he say his safe word and leave her vulnerable?

  He looks to the door.

  A moment later, three men have entered.

  They look similar to the men who beat me.

  Don’t fucking touch her!

  But of course, that’s what they are there for—to ravish her. To make her feel out of control and so overwhelmed that she can’t think straight.

  To many other people, this might be their wildest fantasy—tied up, blindfolded, and fucked senseless by four hot men.

  To Liesel, this is her greatest nightmare. I’ve seen her fuck. She has to be in complete control. I don’t blame her. I’m much the same way, which is one of the many reasons why we’d never work together.

  The men start touching her, groping her, and Beckett follows suit. He runs his hand down the curve of her waist and then grips her hip while a man penetrates her with his finger.

  I can’t watch.

  I can’t not watch.

  I run out of the tub and go to the door. Water drips all over the tile floor, and I almost slip on my ass. I yank the door handle, already expecting the door to be locked.

  I have to get to Liesel.

  I have to stop this.

  I pull harder, determined to get the door to budge. All I end up doing is pulling my side of the handle clean off. I throw my body against the door. I kick as hard as I can, but this isn’t an ordinary door. This one is thick, most likely bulletproof.

  I slink to the floor as my tears fall. I can’t save her.

  I hear a slapping sound, and that motivates me to get my ass off the floor and run to the screen.

  Liesel’s cheek is pink from where she was slapped.

  Beckett steps up to her and slaps her.

  I’m going to kill him.

  And then I watch as a man slides his cock into my woman and I’m lost, so fucking lost.

  Watching Waylon fuck her drove me mad—but this, this will change me in a way I haven’t even figured out yet.

  Does watching her get punished like this wipe her clean of the greatest sin she could commit?

  No.

  But it does weaken me, make me feel like she’s suffered more than anyone. When I kill her, I’ll be merciful. I’ll make it painless and quick. Not torturous, like this.

  This is pain.

  There is only one time I’ve felt this much pain: when Liesel betrayed everything I thought I knew about her.

  I never thought helplessly watching her put herself into a situation like this would make me feel anything for her. I thought my heart had closed to her permanently, but I was wrong.

  This.

  This…

  It changes everything.

  I have to win. I can’t let her endure more than this. I don’t know how many rounds are left, but if she doesn’t mutter her safe word now, I have to get her to early in the next round. I have to convince her. Hopefully, this experience will remind her to not push any further.

  Maybe if I promise to give her the money when I win, she’ll stop?

  I don’t know if she’ll believe me, but I have to try.

  I can’t fucking go through this again.

  I can’t.

  I crumple to the floor, glued to the TV as my heart breaks more and more for the girl who used to live across the street from me. To the girl who, at one point in my life, meant everything. Maybe she means more to me now than I’ll ever admit to myself?

  Tears continue to stream down my face. I realize that Beckett’s task is to repeat one of the men’s actions on Liesel. When there is nothing left for Beckett to repeat but fuck her, he says his safe word.

  When he turns and looks at the camera, there are tears in his swollen eyes. He hardly even knows Liesel, and he’s a fucking mess.

  I’m not going to survive this.

  I scream my own safe word, wishing that I could make it stop, but no one is listening to me. No one will come.

  I pray to God that this is fake, that this is all a show Liesel is putting on to show me how much I fucking care about her.

  I know it’s not, but my brain is trying anything to make sense of this.

  I’m broken.

  I was already broken, but this—this is as bad as it gets.

  I don’t know how long it goes on. I don’t know when it stops, but at some point, I look at the screen, and she’s no longer on it.

  That’s when I collapse again. I fall into the darkness of sleep, and that’s where I plan on spending the rest of my life: swimming in the dark.

  19

  Liesel

  I’m barely conscious as I’m dragged out of the room, but I survived.

  Now, I get a break. A hot bath and warm food. I won’t be watching any of the other rounds. I don’t care. I just need to refocus before my next round.

  A door is opened in front of me, and I’m pushed inside.

  There is a body on the floor.

  “Sorry, we went to the wrong room.” The men start to turn and lead me away.

  “Stop. I want to stay here.”

  The men look at each other and shrug. Then they leave me barely able to stand on my own two feet. Langston better not have eaten all the food because I’m going to need something to eat.

  As soon as the door is locked behind me, I stumble forward to Langston’s body on the ground, and I collapse next to him.

  I can hear him breathing. He’s alive, just passed out.

  He looks so beautifully broken lying on the floor. I reach out and stroke his hair back off his forehead. I want to press my lips to him. I want to feel him moan against my mouth after everything we’ve just been through—I need something warm and comforting.

  He opens his eyes.

  “Are you real?” he asks.

  I smile. “I’m real. I survived, just like you.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “A room mixup, but it worked out in my favor.”

  He finally smiles. “Mine too.”

  “Think you can sit up?”

  “Do you think you can?”

  I sigh. “As long as you promise to feed me lots of pizza.”

  “That I can do.”

  We both inch up slowly until we are in a sitting position leaning against the base of the tub. Langston reaches back and grabs a towel and hands it to me. It’s only then I remember I’m still naked.

  “Thanks,” I mumble as I wrap the towel around my body. He ties a towel around his waist.

  Then he pulls the tray of food in front of us. I grab a slice of pizza, and he grabs the burger. We both eat, trying to regain some strength.

  “You care about me,” I say.

  He stops mid-bite.

  “No, I don’t,” he says.

  I smile brighter. “Liar. You care about me.”

  He frowns and shakes his head. “I don’t.”

  “You can’t lie anymore. I know the truth.”

  “How?”

  I grin around a bite of pizza as he stares deeply into my eyes. I can feel my cheeks blushing like a schoolgirl who just found out her crush likes her.

  “You called out your safe word.”

  He frowns. “And that means I care about you?”

  I nod. “You would have only said your safe word to get them to stop hurting me.”

  “Explain.”

  I laugh. “My challenge was to last until someone said their safe word to try and get it to stop. You were that person. You stopped my suffering Langston, which means you must have been suffering a lot watching me.”

  It was the same rules last time, but last time I was here, there was no one here that personally knew me. It took much longer for someone to say their safe word to try and stop my pain
.

  “Does that mean I’m out of the game?” Langston asks.

  “No, you didn’t say it as part of your challenge. You’re still in. But if you want out, just say it at the beginning of the next round.”

  He nods.

  I go back to happily scarfing down my pizza.

  “I care.”

  His words make my heart skip a beat.

  “I care about you. But I still hate you,” he says.

  I bite my bottom lip to hide my pleasure at hearing those words.

  “Same,” I say.

  His eyes light up at my voice.

  We both finish eating all the food on the tray.

  “Get in the tub. You must be aching,” Langston says.

  I nod.

  He turns the hot water on to warm up the tub and then holds out his hand to me. I take it, and he pulls me up into a standing position.

  I let my towel fall to the floor, but this time, Langston doesn’t take in my body.

  “It’s okay, you can look at me,” I say.

  He shakes his head. “If I do, I won’t be able to stop. I’ll run my eyes over every inch of your body, looking for all the ways you were hurt. And you don’t need to be violated again, even by me.”

  What happened in there broke him more than it broke me. Maybe because I’m already in a million pieces.

  I step into the water and sink down, expecting Langston to join me, to wash me, something.

  He doesn’t.

  He can barely even look at me.

  “What happens next?” Langston asks with a heavy voice.

  “The final round.”

  “And that round is worse than this one?”

  I shrug. “It can be.”

  “When it starts, I want you to say your safe word immediately. Say it and end this. I’ll give you all the money I stole back. I’ll give you more than that if you want. I’ll make our fight fair again, just end this.”

  I close my eyes. I wish it were that simple.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” Langston grabs my hands, and I open my eyes to look at him. “You entered this for the money. I’ll deposit the money back in your account, plus a couple of extra million. Just say your safe word.”

  I touch Langston’s face. For a moment, he looks like the boy I used to know. Bright, warm, and a little bit mischievous, with a haunting brokenness behind his eyes.

  There is a knock at the door, saving me from more conversation. A man enters holding our clothes.

  “Be ready in fifteen minutes for the final round,” he says, placing our clothes on the back of a chair.

  We both nod at him.

  “We need to get dressed,” I say, getting out of the tub and drying off. I don’t care if Langston is watching me or not. We both get dressed, and I find the note with my safe word attached to the inside of my dress.

  I pull it out and read it.

  Unicorn.

  Langston studies me. “You didn’t even read your safe word until this moment, did you?”

  I shake my head.

  “I should have called you my wild thing instead of huntress,” he says, impressed.

  I smile. I like hearing him call me his anything.

  “Promise me you’ll use your safe word if things go too far,” Langston says.

  “I promise,” but it’s just another lie. There is only one thing that will stop me, and he’s standing in front of me in a tux.

  20

  Langston

  I want to kill Liesel for what she did. But I’d also die to protect her.

  It’s confusing, but it’s how I feel.

  Liesel is once again in her swanky black dress. I’m in my tux. We only have minutes left until the final round begins. I don’t know how many competitors we face, or if we are the only two left. We’ll find out soon enough.

  “How do you feel?” she asks, while she traces her hands up my forearms to my biceps, sending chills up my body.

  “Better when you do that.”

  She smiles. “I’m serious. Did you get enough to eat? Did you soak long enough? Did—”

  I lean down and kiss her. She tastes like marinara sauce mixed with lavender, which makes me grin into the kiss. Her lips are soft and warm; they respond immediately to my touch. I’m the only man who gets to kiss her. That may be how it should be, but it’s not reality. I hate that this can’t be our reality.

  My tongue pushes into her mouth, and she jerks back. But as my tongue massages her bottom lip, she lets me into her mouth. The attack of her tongue against mine proves that this is what our mouths were always meant to be doing—kissing each other.

  I can feel the minutes and seconds ticking by; we don’t have forever. Our time together is precious. Soon, there will be a knock on the door, and this kiss will be nothing but a memory.

  But I hope it’s a memory I’ll be able to take with me long after. In the middle of the challenges we are about to face, I hope this brings us peace.

  “Thank you,” she says as my lips leave hers.

  “Don’t ever thank me for kissing you. Kissing you is a gift to me as much as it is for you.”

  I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “No wig tonight?”

  She shakes her head. “Beckett pulled it off in the last round; everyone knows I have blonde hair. So tonight, I’m going in as me.”

  “Whatever you say, Ms. White.”

  She blushes, and her eyes sparkle.

  “Turn around.”

  She does, and I help her fasten her mask to her face. My fingers brush against her bare arms when I’m done, and I watch her goosebumps rise. A small part of me is excited about what this round could entail. It could finally give me a reason to fuck Liesel.

  I don’t want this twisted game to be the reason that I sink my cock into her. But my cock is excited all the same.

  “Turn around,” Liesel says, repeating my words.

  I do, and she stands on her tiptoes to reach my head where she can fasten my mask.

  There is a knock at the door just as she finishes.

  Instinctively, I step in front of her, and my hand reaches back to hold hers, to protect her.

  “If you’ll follow me this way, we are about to start the final round,” the man says and then starts walking.

  I don’t let go of Liesel’s hand as we start following the man out of the room. The man leads us down the hallway to the same room we both faced our previous challenge.

  I stop and turn to Liesel before we enter.

  “I will do everything I can to protect you. I can’t fail—not again.”

  She releases my hand. “I can’t let you protect me,” she whispers.

  Then she walks past me and into the room like she’s the CEO entering a boardroom—full of sass and determination.

  I walk in behind her with her words ringing in my ear. She won’t let me protect her.

  Well, too fucking bad. After the life we’ve both lived, she deserves my protection. I’m the only one who gets to kill her.

  To my shock, we are the only two in the room. I glance to Liesel, who looks just as stunned. Are we the only two who made it to the final round?

  The voice appears. “Welcome to the final round. Only two contestants remain. Each of you have cards lying on the table. The final round begins in five minutes.”

  Liesel and I both walk over to the table with the cards.

  We pick up our respective cards in unison.

  I’m dying to know what’s on her card, but I doubt that’s allowed.

  So instead, I focus on reading mine:

  A woman you know will be tied to a bed. Fuck her so that your competitor thinks you’re hurting her. You will have thirty minutes to strike fear into your competitor. You will then receive new instructions. If your competitor shows no fear, you’ve failed.

  I just have to make Liesel think I’m hurting this woman, not actually inflict pain. I don’t know who the woman is, but it doesn’t seem so terrible. Al
though, Liesel will hate me more than she already does.

  Liesel finishes reading her card. She doesn’t show any emotion. I don’t know what her card says, but I’m guessing something similar to mine.

  Just please don’t let it involve her being tied up again. I won’t be able to sit by and watch that happen.

  Smoke starts billowing into the room, the indication that the game is about to start.

  “Your thirty minutes start now,” the wicked voice says.

  Liesel and I exchange glances through the evaporating smoke. Apparently, the smoke won’t be hanging around this time.

  Two beds appear side by side in front of us.

  “Phoenix?” I ask, looking to the woman tied to the bed right in front of me. It can’t be. Did they kidnap her? She would never agree to be here.

  “Waylon,” Liesel whispers.

  My eyes cut from Phoenix tied to the first bed to Waylon tied to the other.

  What the hell is going on?

  I look to Liesel, like she might have an explanation for this. If this happened last time, she could have at least warned me.

  Liesel isn’t looking at me; she’s walking toward Waylon’s bed. His arms and legs are tied in an X to the bedposts, same as Phoenix.

  I run to Phoenix’s side.

  “It’s okay,” she whispers. “I agreed.”

  My heart clenches. I don’t know if she understands what she agreed to or not, but her words at least comfort me. Now isn’t the time to ask questions, though.

  I look deep into Phoenix’s eyes, letting her know what is about to happen as best as I can with just one look.

  Phoenix and I aren’t as good at understanding each other with looks as Liesel and I are, but it’s pretty clear what I’m asking in this situation.

  “Yes,” she whispers, her voice aching.

  My eyes cut over to Liesel, who is already undressing Waylon. Her lips are pressed to his, just as they were to mine a few moments ago.

  My stomach twists, wishing it were me tied to her bed.

  Liesel doesn’t look over at me. She just keeps kissing and moaning.

  Jesus, I can’t focus on that.

  But how am I going to strike fear in her if she won’t even look at me? If she looks at me, she’ll know I’m just doing whatever is on my card. She won’t be any more afraid of me than she already is.

 

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