The Truth Keeps Silent: A Second Chance Romantic Suspense (Truth & Lies Duet Book 1)

by A. V. Asher

  Alec frowned but let it go. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Mercedes reached out to give him a hug, and he gathered her against him. She felt so good in his arms; he held on longer than intended.

  Being “just a friend” to Mercedes Elliott wasn’t going to be easy, but it would be worth it.

  As he walked away, Mercedes called out. “Hey, McKinley, make sure you’re headed in the right direction this time. Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

  He looked back at her, her crooked grin making him laugh. “Not going to let me live it down, are ya?”

  “Nope,” she called. Her laughter carried to him, and he didn’t think he’d heard such a lovely sound in a long time.

  Chapter Six

  Jason Marsh sat at his desk programming a code for his current project. His boss was up his ass about finishing it today, and it was pissing him the fuck off. He could only type so fast. His cell phone rang, but he ignored it. He didn’t have time for anyone’s bullshit today.

  As soon as it stopped buzzing, it immediately started again.

  What the fuck? He pressed answer. “This is Jason,” he barked.

  “You have a problem,” the familiar voice said with a sneer. Fucking Adam.

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Your girl had a meeting today.”

  Jason’s hands paused on the keys. “The fuck you mean?”

  “She had a cozy meet-up after work this afternoon.”

  Jason’s heart raced. “With who?”

  “Who do you think? McKinley.”

  He could feel the blood leave his face. “No way. She knows better.”

  “Apparently not. You want the photos? Got one with them holding hands.” The bastard’s voice was dripping with glee.

  Rage built in him. “Fuck you, Adam. You better not be fucking with me.”

  “Why would I fuck with you? Check your phone, man.”

  Jason’s phone buzzed again with a text message. Dizziness overtook him as he scrolled to his message app.

  There she was.

  There he fucking was.

  “Tell me,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “I only heard part of what they said, something about a job and her music shit. He’s agreed to help her find work with friends of his. He brought some kind of list with him, and they sat together and went over it.”

  Jason’s fist gripped his phone, and he scrolled through Adam’s snapshots as he listened to the details. Adam had gone inside and ordered a drink. He wasn’t able to hear everything they spoke about, but the parts he did hear made Jason’s blood boil.

  His Sadie. His. In the arms of that fucker.

  He struggled to think straight. “I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Jason burst out.

  “Whoa, man.” Adam was no longer taunting. “Take it easy. You need to be careful and not fuck this up. I don’t want to be cleaning up your shit again.”

  “You think I can let this go?” he growled, grabbing his jacket from his chair.

  “Well, no. But for fuck’s sake, get it together. They were talking. It wasn’t like she was fucking him on the table. And you’re on thin ice as it is with—”

  Jason jabbed the end button and stared at his phone, his breath ragged.

  How could she do this to him? After all they had been through together, how could she want anything but him? He strode to the elevator and jabbed the button. Tonight, she’d know who she belonged to. Tonight, she’d remember what he’d done for her.

  Chapter Seven

  After saying goodbye to Alec, Mercedes began walking toward her apartment above the yoga studio, smiling. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Every single one of the positions Alec suggested she’d be happy with. Perhaps she could earn a decent living here as a consultant rather than as part of a legal practice.

  Mercedes took a detour to the neighborhood grocer and purchased everything she needed for a quick pasta dish. Her cooking talents were notoriously awful, but she hoped Jason would be happy to eat something besides curry takeout from down the street.

  Jason wasn’t home when she arrived. Relieved to have a moment to think about the day uninterrupted, she unloaded the groceries and set a pot of water to boil. There was plenty of time to do some research about some of the companies Alec had given her while she waited for Jason’s text, letting her know he was on his way.

  Ten minutes later, the salted water gently boiling the pasta, Mercedes was poised at her desk, engrossed in her research. She’d already started on a list for the first contact, the Scottish textile mill.

  Mercedes was so caught up in her research she was startled when the key turned in the door. Her heart skipped at the thought of telling Jason. He’d prefer her to stay home, but she hoped her enthusiasm would win him over.

  She left her laptop and strained the pasta in the sink. After dinner, she’d research the ins and outs of textiles in the American market.

  “Hi,” she said. “How was your day?”

  “Alright. Busy.” Jason’s voice was strange, detached. His phone buzzed, but he declined the call.

  Mercedes’s eyebrows drew together. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” His phone buzzed again, and without even looking, he silenced it.

  He stood over her computer, looking at her web search and notebook. “What’s this? Why are you researching Scotland?”

  A chill ran up her spine. She had to tread carefully here.

  “Oh, remember when I said I had a potential job lead from a customer at the shop? Well, he gave me a few names of companies who might be looking for a corporate attorney to help them expand into America. That’s the first one. He gave me a few companies to check out.”

  Jason’s mouth turned up into a scowl. “That right? Why is this customer so interested in you?”

  Her heart jumped. Turning back to the sink, she poured the strained pasta back into the pot. She couldn’t look at him and lie.

  “He’s a regular who chats with us occasionally. I mentioned I was a lawyer looking for work. So, he offered to put my name out there. It’s not a big deal, but I appreciated it.” Please let that be the last of it.

  Jason’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he nuzzled her hair. The tension in her shoulders released, and she relaxed against him. Her secret was safe.

  “Would you like some wine?” she murmured. “I can open a bottle.”

  When he didn’t answer right away, she tried to turn toward him. But his fingers tightened, digging into her flesh.

  “No, I don’t want wine,” he growled.

  Holy shit, what’s going on? “Okay, I—”

  “What I want to know is,” he snarled against her, “have you fucked Alec McKinley in our bed?”

  Oh, god.

  Fear rushed through her veins like icy water. Mercedes closed her eyes. It was pointless to contradict him with the details. He’d never believe it was an innocent business meeting.

  Jason laid his phone on the counter next to the sink, clouds of steam billowing from the pasta in front of her. An image glowed up at her, captured from across the street of the shop. She and Alec sitting at the little bistro table, his hand stretched out to hold hers. It was nothing more than a moment of kindness, but there was no way she could deny the appearance of intimacy.

  “Jace, it’s not what yo—”

  Jason grasped her hair and slammed her head into the cabinet. Her cheekbone seemed to crack apart. Shooting pain radiated through her forehead.

  The world spun.

  Jason let her go. She staggered backward, falling to the floor. He stood over her, breathing hard and glaring. Crawling to the door was impossible. Mercedes’s legs weren’t moving fast enough.

  “Get the fuck up.” Lunging at her, he grabbed her around the throat, forcing her to her feet. Scratching and kicking did nothing. Fingernails dug into her flesh. Mercedes wheezed, desperate to suck in what air she could get. Jason crashed her against the wall, her head cracking the plaster.<
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  “Are you fucking him?” he demanded. Only strangled sounds came out as she struggled for air. “Answer me! Are you fucking him?” The hold on her throat tightened.

  “No,” she mouthed, shaking her head and clawing at his hands, tears, and blood blinding her. The last bit of air left her, and spots formed around her blurred vision.

  This seemed to enrage him more, and he threw her to the ground. Gasping for air, she crawled toward the door, her arms shaking. She knew she’d never make it.

  She was right.

  The impact of the kick to her abdomen stole what little breath she had regained. Blinding pain tore through her. Mercedes wrapped her arms around her ribs and curled up. She couldn’t breathe, her vision shrinking.

  “You fucking bitch,” he raged. “You gonna act like you haven’t been his whore?” He straddled her, forcing her hands away from her face. The full weight of the blow landed on the left side of her jaw. Blood was filling her mouth and nose, and she gagged as it trickled down the back of her throat.

  She wanted to plead with him. But the deadness in his eyes told her he wasn’t able to hear her.

  “You didn’t think I’d find out about your little fuck date with that piece of shit Scotsman? I know everything you do. I know you fixed yourself up for him like a slut. I know you flirted with him and how many times you let him touch you. I know all of it, you dumb cunt. Did you think I’d let you get away with that? Embarrassing me?”

  Mercedes lost count of how many times he struck her face and arms. She bucked him and tried to twist away, but he thrust his weight down, trapping her. Managing to free her right wrist from his grasp, she punched him in the face.

  It didn’t register.

  Again.

  This time, her fist connected with the bottom of his chin. Nothing. Mercedes reared up and set her claws to him, raking her nails down the side of his neck, and he hissed. An open-handed slap stopped her efforts.

  His weight shifted. Keeping his hold on her throat, he raised himself up, looking at the countertop.

  Please, let him be cycling down.

  Instead, he pulled the large kitchen knife from the counter as she shrieked. A slap to the face silenced her.

  Jason used the knife to cut away her black tank top, nicking her stomach with the tip. He pulled her breasts free of her bra and twisted her left nipple brutally. Wincing, she breathed through the pain.

  “Look at these tits,” he growled and pressed the knife into the side of her breast, the tip cutting into her skin. Mercedes held back a sob, willing herself to be quiet.

  Jason brought the knife to rest on her nipple. She closed her eyes and braced for agony. But instead, he replaced the knife with his mouth, gentle at first. Then his teeth tore into her flesh, circling the tender peak of her breast.

  He rocked his hips, grinding his arousal into her. Bile churned in her stomach, but she knew better than to move. The tip of the blade dug into her ribcage.

  The last thing she wanted was to have him inside her, but if it made him stop, she’d do what needed to be done.

  “Jace,” she rasped.

  He tensed at the sound of her voice, and the tip of the knife dug in deeper.

  “No.” His voice caught. He was close to tears. She’d lost most of her vision to the blood and swelling, but his eyes were in her sight.

  “Why are you like this?” His voice was thick with emotion. “Why did you have to call him?”

  Mercedes didn’t answer, and she wouldn’t apologize for it. It was an act of defiance she couldn’t afford.

  The unadulterated hate returned to his eyes. He tightened his iron grip on her wrists. With exacting precision, he dragged the blade through the soft flesh of her side, opening a thin ribbon from her ribs to her waistline. Mercedes screamed, the agony of it like nothing she’d ever known. He wouldn’t relent.

  Jason brought the knife up to carve her flesh again, but her hands broke free of his grasp. She fought to protect her vulnerable abdomen, the blade making a deep tear through the inside of her forearm. Blood poured onto her exposed chest, dropping in thick splatters all around her.

  Mercedes kept screaming until a fist pummeled her in the face again, and the world fell away. She wasn’t sure if she’d wake up from this one. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  Chapter Eight

  Jason’s raging mind reconnected to reality. He was straddling Mercedes’s limp body. His chest heaved like he’d run a mile, and his stomach turned at the wreckage. Her matted hair clung to her face. The shredded tank top exposed her bare breast, slick with blood. Crimson streams were seeping from the long wavering cut traveling from her breast to the top of her jeans. His hand clutched the kitchen knife, but he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten it. He tossed it to the side as if it burned him.

  “Sadie?” His voice shook. A trembling hand reached out to cup her ruined face. “Oh god. Oh my god. Fuck, what did I do? Sadie, wake up.”

  When she didn’t move, he pressed his fingers against her throat, terrified he wouldn’t find her pulse. He caught the slight thump of it. The breath he’d been holding rushed out in relief.

  A sickening flow pulsed from a gash on her arm, matching the beat of her heart. Rushing to the counter, he grabbed a thin towel. Wrapping it around her slack arm, he did his best to tie off a tourniquet. His shaky hands struggled to pull the cloth tight, but it slowed the loss to an ooze.

  He found his cell phone next to the sink. A wall of text messages and call notifications glared at him from the home screen. Both Adam and Patrick had been trying to reach him. They knew what he’d do. Jesus, why hadn’t they done more to stop him?

  Giving her one last look, he lunged for the door and stumbled down the narrow staircase. His heart raced, and he worked to catch his breath. He burst out onto the sidewalk, careening away from the scene, his mind screaming at him.

  Why had she done this? How could she have been so stupid?

  The rage returned, strangling him. She knew better. She knew he’d find out. They’d discussed it, and he’d been clear. No men from her past. They’d talked about that asshole in particular.

  Jason paused his furious pace. Maybe she’d wanted him to catch her. That was it. She’d planned this all along. Why else would she do something like this?

  His brain flipped between panic and fury. If he didn’t act now, she’d die. He couldn’t clean this up on his own. He’d have to make the call.

  A metallic scent flooded his nose. Jesus, he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, coated in blood. Lowering his head, he dashed into a narrow alleyway. He leaned against the wall to stop his legs from collapsing. Pulling out his phone, he found Adam’s contact and hit call.

  Adam answered on the first ring. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “I fucked up,” Jason choked out.

  “I knew it. What have you done?”

  “I . . . I think I hurt Sadie.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is she alive?”

  “I . . . I think so. She was a minute ago. I need help . . . with clean up. And I’ll need cover.”

  “You’re not even sure she’s alive? God damn it. Where is she now?”

  Jason had a hard time remembering. “She’s uh . . . at our apartment. Call an ambulance.”

  Adam gave a command to someone to call the emergency number. When he came back, he said, “I can’t believe you fucked this up again, man. How hard is it to control yourself?”

  “It wasn’t my fault. She fucking lied to me.” It was a waste of time. Adam would never understand. “Just come and get me. I’m on the street and I . . . have a lot of blood on me.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Adam muttered. “Stay hidden. We’re already on the way to you.”

  Sirens howled in the distance. He could only hope they would make it in time.

  Adam’s sardonic voice came through the line before he hung up. “I hope you understand what a mess you’ve made of ev
erything. Again. You’d better pray to whatever god pricks like you pray to she lives.”

  Chapter Nine

  Alec was more than satisfied with the outcome of his recent meetings. The project was ahead of schedule and on budget. Plus, they were ready to go home a day early. He could get his notes typed up on the road and have time to stop by Cap and Vin for a drink. Happy hour would be over, but he didn’t care about paying full price if he got another chance to see Mercedes again. All through the trip, she’d been on his mind.

  “Hey man, can you drive?” He tossed the keys to his partner, Mason Wright. Mason snagged them out of the air and grinned.

  “Oh, yeah,” Mason said. Driving meant control of the music. “I’ll get you to admit Frank is the man.”

  Alec rolled his eyes. Halfway through the journey to Manchester, a heated discussion about which of the Rat Pack was a better singer began. Mason grinned at him and played The Way You Look Tonight. Alec sighed. That was a tough one to beat.

  Alec and Mason had met while on a tour of Afghanistan. They had shot the shit a few times at the base, with the usual amount of boasting between the Brits and the Americans that always ensued. He and Mason, a tall Black man with a heavy Boston accent, hit it off right away.

  Then a firefight had blown through their camp, and Alec had taken a slug in his chest, below his left collarbone. Mason, a US Naval Corpsman, had been the one to stabilize Alec and kept him safe until they could extract him.

  That day changed Alec’s life. After a couple of surgeries and some physical therapy, he was back to himself. But the realities of war hit, and active combat wasn’t what he wanted.

  Still, he had a desire to serve, so he joined the Secret Intelligence Service. It was there he’d developed his skill set.

  Alec’s phone buzzed. He’d missed a call from Luke, but he popped it back in the center console, making a note to ring him when he got home. He was still racking his brain to think of Dean Martin songs when it rang again.