Kiss Me with Lies (Twin Lies Duet Book 1)

by S. M. Soto

  “Does that work for you, Mackenzie …?” he trails off, waiting for something. It takes me a second to realize it’s my name. He’s waiting for me to offer up my last name. I pause for a second, not sure my lie will work, but hoping it’ll hold him off long enough to get what I need. It may not be the smartest thing to do, lying about my last name, but I can’t risk him recognizing the name, or me.

  It’s my own fault he knows nothing about me. If I want to stay in his life and keep him interested, I need to give him something. I can’t risk him getting bored or tired of my games. Not yet.

  “Williams. It’s Mackenzie Williams.”

  He grins. Not one of his sexy smirks, but a genuine grin even hotter than his crooked one. “All right, Ms. Williams.”

  The rest of the dinner goes a lot smoother than I expected. We finish the entire bottle of wine while catching up on everything that’s happened since we last saw each other. I learn that Baz has been traveling frequently to the site where the next Kings Resort chain is being built. I’m oddly fascinated by the details of his work. I didn’t realize how much went into everything he does. He truly is the mastermind and CEO behind all of this.

  We steer clear of the topic of other women. I brought it up earlier, much to my chagrin, but thankfully, he hasn’t mentioned anything else. He hasn’t tried to explain himself, either, and I haven’t asked. It’s smarter this way. The less I know, the better. I shouldn’t even care who he’s sleeping with. I have no right to know anything this man does. The only thing I should care about wholeheartedly is where he stands when it comes to the death of my sister.

  I find it difficult to tamp down thoughts of her while sitting across from him. When he laughs at something I say and his Adam’s apple bobs, or when he’s contemplating something, and his brows draw in, I stare, wondering if Madison saw a similar gesture the night she died. Did she, too, look at Sebastian and wonder how anyone could be that handsome? Did she, too, wonder how any of them could be so deceiving?

  While Baz talks about his work and his family, I look down at his large hands. Hands that have roamed my body and touched me in places he should have no right to be touching. Were those the same hands that killed her? Were those the same hands that stole her last breath?

  There’s a sharp pain in my chest at the thought, at the chance that Baz could’ve been the killer. I picture him at the kissing rock with Mads. I picture him standing over her, hurting her, killing her, and I can’t make it go away. I try to breathe through it, but it spreads. It travels through my chest, squeezing my lungs, making it impossible to pull in a single breath. I realize my eyes are watering as Baz’s large form swims before me with his head cocked to the side. My emotions are clogging my throat, making it difficult to swallow. I blink away the sheen, and I can feel a tear glide down my cheek.

  “Mackenzie?”

  Baz’s voice is distant as though he’s miles away. I grip the edges of the table, trying to hold on to reality, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see her. I can feel her watching me, judging me, waiting for me to fuck this all up just as she knows I will.

  I shake my head, slamming my eyes shut to make her go away.

  She’s not here.

  This isn’t real.

  She’s dead. Madison is dead.

  There’s movement, then a warm touch on my hand startles me. I inhale a ragged breath, and my eyes shoot open. Baz is there, crouched near my side of the table, watching me with an intent expression on his face. It’s an odd combination of ice and concern mixed into one. As though he cares, but not really.

  It’s all a fucking farce.

  “Everything okay?”

  His voice stirs everything awake inside me. His voice makes everything else completely disappear, including Madison. His voice makes me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling, least of all near him.

  I push away from the table, stumbling off the chair as I go. Swiping quickly at the tear on my face, I dash it away even though it’s clear he’s seen it already.

  “I think … I-I’m suddenly not feeling that well. I think I need to get go—” I take a shaky step back on my heel as Baz stares up at me, that crease between his brows growing deeper with each passing second. Other than that, his face remains aloof and completely impassive to my meltdown.

  Spinning on my heels, I hurry out of the restaurant and push past the people milling around, blocking my escape. My nose burns, and my throat tightens, constricting with my anger and my passive-aggressive emotions. I can feel the heat of his stare at my back, watching me as I flee. Everything around me is spinning, wreaking havoc on my alcohol-fogged mind. I know this has to do with the wine. It happens every time I drink too much. The past resurfaces, threatening to take me down with it. It’s always Madison. She’s always there when I least expect her to be.

  Anger rapidly surges through my veins. At Madison. At myself.

  We just ruined everything. We’ve fucked everything up. Royally.

  Doesn’t she realize she’s screwing things up?

  Baz is never going to want to see me again after tonight. He was my only way in with the rest of the guys. He was the only one out of all those heartless bastards who I wanted to prove was innocent. How the fuck am I supposed to do that now?

  Back in my room, I slam the door closed and toss my clutch at the wall angrily. It smacks the plaster, bouncing right off, then tumbles onto the floor. I curl my hand into a fist, and like it has a mind of its own, it knocks the lamp off the end table, hitting the floor with a deafening shatter. More tears spring to my eyes as the weight sitting on my chest becomes unbearable.

  “You couldn’t just stay away for one fucking second?” I yell, spinning in a circle with my arms splayed out at my sides. “I’m doing this for you! Don’t you get it? You’re ruining everything, Mads!” I scream at her even though I know she can’t hear me.

  She never fucking hears me.

  I collapse onto the floor and let the tears free. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. My whole life wasn’t supposed to be like this. I shouldn’t still be competing with her. But I am. Every single day, I’m competing with a person who is dead.

  It was supposed to be me.

  It should’ve been me.

  If the roles were reversed, Madison would be thriving right now. She’d be successful, no doubt. Beautiful in her own right with a man like Baz hanging on her every word. She wouldn’t feel the need to compete with a dead person because she would’ve left the past in the past. That’s just how Madison was. She excelled at everything. And here I am, nine miserable years later, with nothing to show for in my life. I have no huge milestones. I have no ring on my finger, no happy family. I don’t have a job I’m in love with. I don’t have anything but my anger, my regret, and my fucking guilt.

  Dropping my head into my hands, I pull in a deep breath, trying to get myself together. This is what I hate about me—about my life. There’s this emptiness inside me. A part of me knows it stems from Madison’s death: years of living in her shadow and being neglected. It’s the fact I hate myself and my life so much, not because it’s bad, but because I hate my brain and everything else about myself; it makes it difficult to enjoy the rest, to be normal and forget the past.

  I know this isn’t going to do me any good. I’ll never find out what happened to Madison if I keep letting the past resurface. I need to remember what’s important. I need to find a way into their lives, and to do that, I need Baz to trust me. I might look like a complete and total psycho after tonight, but if I can just pull myself together long enough to keep him interested, everything will be fine. He might not want to see me again after tonight, but it’s worth a shot.

  Clambering up off the floor, I head into the ensuite bathroom and check out my reflection. The damage isn’t as bad as I thought. I’ll just need to touch up my mascara. Besides that, I don’t look anything like the total wreck I feel on the inside.

  I give myself time to settle, to clean myself up, and sober up before I s
end Baz a text. I wait. Minutes tick by. Those minutes turn into an hour. After two hours of sitting around like a complete idiot, I’m about to give up and call it a night when my phone chimes on the nightstand with a text from Baz.

  His reply to the last message I sent brings a smile to my face.

  Me: How crazy do you think I am after tonight, on a scale of 1-10?

  Baz: Easily 100

  I shake my head, biting my bottom lip to hold in the smile.

  Me: How’s the rest of your night looking? Too busy for all this crazy?

  Baz: I guess we’ll find out. Dan will bring you up to the penthouse floor when you’re ready.

  Me: I’m ready.

  I leave it at that and wait for Dan to walk me up to the penthouse floor of the resort. Baz’s quarters. This is my chance to redeem myself. I can’t fuck this up. Not again.

  When the knock sounds on the other side of the door, I gulp a lungful of air and roll my shoulders back, summoning the courage to be someone else tonight. Someone just like Scarlett. A vixen who doesn’t let anyone walk all over her. Someone who is willing to do whatever it takes to get the truth. No matter the consequences.

  Dan, as Baz mentioned his name was, is completely mute, making the walk to the elevator uncomfortably silent. He doesn’t bat an eye at the fact he’s delivering a woman straight to Baz’s floor in the middle of the night. The man hardly looks at me at all. He’s the vision of a trained professional.

  It makes me wonder how many women he’s escorted to Baz’s penthouse in the middle of the night. Do they frequent the resort? How many times a week does he do this? Is Dan so desensitized that he doesn’t even care who his employer brings up anymore?

  We step into the elevator bank, and I stick to the left side. Keeping an eye on Dan, I watch as he reaches into his pocket and slides the fob card over the black square on the panel labeled “PH” before the elevator starts to rise. I silently take note. I guess the only way onto Baz’s floor is with a special fob.

  As we ride in silence, I angle my body toward the man and watch him subtly out of the corner of my eye. He’s older but not the elderly kind of old. More like in his late fifties. He has salt and pepper hair, and even for an older man, his physique is still quite athlectic. He’s a man of few words, that much is obvious, but as I stare at him, I wonder how long he’s known Baz and what he knows about him.

  Is he privy to all their secrets? Does he know who Baz and his friends really are?

  “Have you been working with Mr. King for a while?”

  Dan nods. “Years.”

  I purse my lips at his brusque answer. It doesn’t leave any room for me to question him, which is probably what he wants. Ever the freaking professional.

  “Does he stay here often?” I try for another line of questioning. If I can sneak around the hotel and get intel without Baz around, that’d be great. It’s obvious he has his own place, but he also has a penthouse floor here. Does he only stay at the resort when he works late? Or is the penthouse more of a bachelor pad for him where he brings his rendezvous and bedmates?

  At my question, Dan pivots toward me, giving me his full frame as he looks at me. I catch a flash of annoyance in his eyes. He’s probably wondering why I’d ask a question like that. He’s probably also trying to figure out if it’s in his best interest to answer said question. Either Baz is extremely secretive, or Dan is loyal to a fault.

  To put him at ease, I jump in to add, “I just mean, I’ve seen his place, so I guess I was wondering if he spends most of his time here at the resort or in his own home. Personally, I’d want to go to my own home each night, but I guess if I was working late, as I’m sure he does, having a penthouse floor would come in handy.”

  Dan raises a brow at me. “What exactly is your question, Ms. Williams?”

  Heat rises to my cheeks from embarrassment. “Guess I’m not really asking anything at all,” I mumble.

  We both respectively turn back to face the mirror paneled elevator doors, and I watch the numbers slowly climb. We still have another six floors to go.

  “He’s a busy man, Mr. Kingston, so he often spends most of his time in his office or the penthouse. His home is more of a luxury to him if anything.”

  Surprised by his willingness to speak, I turn toward Dan with a grateful smile on my face.

  “I thought as much.”

  I clasp my hands in front of me and twiddle my thumbs while my brain runs a million miles a second. Baz has a penthouse floor. On top of that, he has an office here. This gives me the opportunity to check two spaces for any clues into his past. The only problem I’m having is Baz. If his home in the hills is more of a luxury to him, that would mean he spends most of his time here. That would make it nearly impossible to sneak around without him being privy.

  I’m not even sure what I’m looking for at this point. Just anything that links them, any of them, to the death of my sister. Who knows, maybe they recorded it? Maybe they hid the murder weapon in plain sight? What did they do with their clothes from that night? Surely, they didn’t keep the same clothes they murdered my sister in.

  Or maybe they did. I read once about serial killers taking souvenirs. Is that what they did, too?

  A soft chime startles me out of my thoughts just as the elevator doors slide open, and there, leaning against the opposite wall with a casual cavalier pose is the man in question. Baz King. He has one leg propped up behind him and both hands tucked in his pockets as his eyes connect with mine. I’m impetuously struck immobile by my surprise, unable to move.

  Why is he so damn handsome?

  Baz’s gaze trails down my body in the dress. It’s the same one I had on earlier, but Baz watches me with such intense heat, it’s like it’s the first time he’s seeing me. His eyes devour every inch of my exposed skin. Like lasers, they sear into me, incinerating my flesh. The way he’s lighting me on fire makes it seem as if he’s the sun, and because no matter what happens, I know I’ll always be drawn to this man, that makes me Icarus. I’ll always fly too close to the sun, even when I’m not supposed to. Even when I know it will kill me.

  And it will.

  That, I’m sure of.

  “Heading back down?”

  “What?”

  That smirk he’s been trying to hold in breaks free when he says, “You’re still in the elevator. Having second thoughts?”

  I jolt, looking around me, and sure enough, I’m still inside the elevator. Dan’s hand blocking the sensor is the only thing keeping the doors open. I step out, slowly closing the distance between us. I can faintly hear the sound of the doors sliding closed, then the mechanics kicking in as it glides back down.

  Keep it together, Kenz. Remember what you’re here for.

  Plastering on a sweet, saccharine smile for his benefit, I shrug noncommittally. “Guess I was giving you a chance to turn back around.”

  Baz’s smirk turns into a full-on smile. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen it, and the sight of it has my façade slipping just a bit. It’s blinding. He’s beautifully blinding. Every single part of him.

  I thought I’d seen Baz smile before. Smirk? Always. But smile? Never like this.

  Taking a step toward me, he raises his hand to the delicate skin of my neck and traces tantalizing little circles with his fingers. I suck in a sharp breath when the roughened pad of his thumb trails down my throat, hovering just above my cleavage. My chest is heaving. It’s getting harder and harder to swallow and breathe.

  A tremor travels down my spine when he asks, “And why would I do that?”

  My throat feels like sandpaper when I push the words past my tingling lips. “Because I’m trouble.”

  “Oh, Mackenzie,” Baz whispers, stepping into me. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he tugs my body until my front is flush against his. I feel every hard plane. I feel each corded slab of muscle. His heat engulfs me, threatening to pull me under. He leans down, placing his lips next to my ear. “I knew you were trouble the second I laid eyes
on you.”

  To drive his point home, he places an openmouthed kiss behind my ear. My hands shoot up to grip his shoulders for support as my eyes roll to the back of my head.

  “That’s …” I breathe out, trying to find my words. “That’s …”

  “That’s what?”

  “Interesting?” It comes off as more of a question, and Baz chuckles. The vibrations travel through me, startling every nerve ending awake and making me hyperaware of him.

  He takes a step back and reaches for my hand, then leads us down the hall toward what I assume is the entrance to his penthouse.

  We pass a few doors along the way, and Baz’s commentary on each has my brows rising.

  “A small gym there.” He points at the glassed room to the left of us. “I only use it when I want to be left alone.”

  “So all the time?” I quip with a wry twist of my lips.

  “Funny, but not far off. That’s my office,” he says in passing. “Spend most of my time in there. We have an extra security hub right there, and here”—he slides a card over another fob mechanism, and it beeps, then flashes green before we’re able to push inside—“is the penthouse.”

  I follow Baz inside, trying to slowly take everything in and commit it all to memory—each small detail while still thinking about what he said outside. Everything I need access to is here, all on one floor. I just need that card to get in. And a distraction. He has to have security cameras pointed everywhere throughout the resort. That’s the only explanation for his security hub up here.

  The penthouse is decorated much like my suite, though up here, everything screams Baz and masculinity. They’re the same sleek dark designs he has back at home. A full kitchen and breakfast bar along with a living room before a hallway, which I assume leads to the bedroom, and a balcony.

  I hadn’t noticed it before, not when you stand outside, not even when you walk in, but as Baz leads us toward the balcony, I realize this is more than just a balcony. This connects to his private pool and spa and has the same incredible view as before. The observatory and the twinkling lights of the city smile back at us.