Bitter Lies

by Nina Lincoln

  All of which fades when he smirks as he leans back on his heels. “Just a kiss, then. After all, you decided you’re not interested, no?”

  Staring into his hazel eyes, bright with cruel amusement and something else I can’t define, I huff and turn away, grabbing for the door. “Whatever. I’ll go find fucking David. You’re right. I am looking for someone different.”

  “Is that right?” He stands abruptly and pins me to the door, bucking into my ass with his massive dick.

  Shuddering, I whisper, “Yes.”

  But it ends on a moan when he pushes my suit aside and breaches me, sliding to the end before pulling out and pumping back in.

  “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Because when I’m done with you, you’ll never fucking think of dick without thinking of me again.” His guttural tone makes me spasm as he grabs my hips in a burning grip and thrusts into me quickly.

  With that, he takes me savagely, and the last thought I have before I orgasm wickedly is that I already do, and it’s a painful fucking pill to swallow.

  Grabbing my hips, he pulls me over and pushes me against the bed, fucking into me heatedly, his length brutalizing my walls until another orgasm shoots through me, and I cry out, bathing him with my pleasure.

  “Fuck, Halsey,” he moans so low, I can barely make out the words as he bottoms out and moves inside of me slowly.

  I collapse to the bed, laying my head on my arms as he pumps into me steadily, his hands clenching and releasing as he breathes heavily above me. A cascade of tingles shoots through me at the sweet slide, and moaning beneath him, I arch against him again.

  “Fuck,” he grunts, picking up speed as he pounds into me with heavy strokes until he cries out with another harsh moan and ejaculates.

  Shuddering under the feeling and fighting against the emotion that pushes at my throat, I close my eyes in frustration because I can’t make this more than it is. But it’s too late because with Griffin, I have no self-control, even though he stole my heart and then threw it away, and every time we do this, he breaks another piece of me.

  What will I do when there’s nothing left to give?

  Pulling away from him grimly, I avoid his gaze as I right myself and walk to the door on shaky limbs, pleasure still cascading through me wildly on wings of mother fucking pain.

  “Halsey,” Griffin says quietly, but I ignore him and the throbbing beat of my heart as I lock myself in my room and collapse on the bed.

  If only I could shed these feelings, but I’m stuck, and the more I play with Griffin or allow him to play with me, the harder it becomes to stifle them.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  What’s love got to do with it?

  The following day, I avoid Griffin, which isn’t hard to do because I think he’s doing the same, and for a while, I lie out in the sun and soak up the rays, the warmth delightful on my cold skin, but I’m not enjoying it.

  I’m not enjoying anything because no matter what I do, I can’t outrun how Griffin makes me feel, and this trip is only reminding me that I’m fucking doomed.

  So, it’s with a grim determination, I seek out Max because maybe if I can do whatever it is he wants, I can leave early.

  I don’t think anyone cares if I’m here anyway, except for maybe David. I spy him when I search the downstairs bedrooms, emerging from what I assume to be his room with a bright smile.

  “Hey, Halsey, there you are. Wanna go swim?”

  “Um, maybe later. I was actually looking for my brother. Have you seen him?”

  “Max? No, haven’t seen him. I didn’t know he was here.”

  “Okay,” I say, frustrated. Why bring me here and then disappear?

  “Hey, about your brother. Um, he’s a little intense, eh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugs, his smile sheepish as he raises his hands. “You’re not into the hard shit, are you?’

  Stepping back, I shake my head. “What? No.”

  “Good,” he says, dropping his hands with a bright smile. “Look, I like you, but I can’t be around that kind of shit. I need my scholarships.”

  “Of course.” I smile feebly.

  Max isn’t as cautious as he thinks if virtual strangers are approaching me about it. Does Griffin know? Should I tell him? Fuck, I don’t know.

  “Okay, well, see you out there?”

  “Yep.” I’m still standing in a daze as he walks around me and heads up the stairs.

  “What a douche,” Max says, poking his head out the door of a room farther down the hall.

  “Max, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Is that right?” he says. “Was this before or after you were fucking Griffin?”

  “What? Max!”

  How does he even know that? Disturbed, I follow him into his room and watch uneasily as he closes the door. Although we haven’t had any altercations recently, his odd behavior and borderline violence are never far from my mind.

  “Whatever. It’s your funeral. The douche doesn’t care about you, you know?”

  “Yeah, I get it,” I say dully, turning away and gazing out the french doors.

  Even fucking Max has a lovely room with a double bed and adjoining bath while I’m stuck in the servant’s fucking quarters.

  Did Griffin put me there because it was so close to his room? And if so, why? To punish me or keep an eye on me?

  Absently, I note Griffin down by the water, laughing down at the big-titted girl who rode with us here, and I sigh. Fuck, I need to get my shit together.

  I’m here for the money that Max promised me—nothing more.

  “Well, why am I here?” I demand, turning away from the spectacle, my stomach souring when Jason fucking Macklemore steps into view.

  This is like the culmination of all my worst fucking nightmares. Do I ever get a fucking break?

  “I need you to find something,” Max says, drawing my attention away.

  “What?”

  He shifts uncomfortably, and I eye him with a sinking sensation in my stomach. “What, Max?”

  With a grimace, he turns away. “The necklace.”

  “What necklace?” I whisper, praying he doesn’t say what I think he’s going to say.

  He gives me an impatient look and I shrug, gritting my teeth in preparation for the blow. “You know what necklace. The one that Griff gave you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because it’s a priceless fucking heirloom, and I want it.”

  “Priceless?”

  “Yes, Hals, it’s worth good money.”

  Holy shit. Griffin gave me jewelry worth enough to steal? No fucking way.

  “Max, are you sure?” I can’t help my skeptical tone because I mean really? I’m expected to believe Griffin would leave a priceless heirloom in my hands after deciding he hates my guts? Yeah…no.

  “Yes,” he says with a sigh, “he told me once when he was super drunk that’s it priceless or some shit.”

  Right, okay. Pack that information away for later.

  “But why? That’s Griffin’s. Why would you want to take that from him?”

  “Look, I need it, okay?”

  “No, no, I can’t take that. You’re asking too much of me,” I say bitterly.

  Rushing toward me, he grabs my arm painfully and crying out, I try to pull his fingers away, but he’s got a death grip on my arm.

  “Max, stop. You’re hurting me,” I whimper.

  “He’s going to kill me if I don’t get it,” Max says, shaking me again for good measure before pushing me away.

  “Who?”

  “Don’t be stupid. You know who.”

  “How does he even know about it? I assume you’re talking about Patch, right?”

  Nodding, he says, “I told him about it.”

  “Why? Max, why?”

  “Because,” he bellows, “because he gave it to you. It’s always about you!”

  My stomach sinks at his wild words, once again confounded by this new
est revelation. Does Griffin know about Max’s feelings?

  “But Max, why Patch? Why does he even care? This is dangerous.” Max just shakes his head at me and with a wince, I rub my forehead.

  “You don’t understand. Patch cares about me.”

  “Oh really? Then why would he kill you if you don’t bring back the damn necklace?”

  Once more, he grabs my arms roughly, and I whimper under the intensity of his gaze. “You don’t understand. I want the fucking necklace, and you’re going to help me get it.”

  “No, I can’t,” I state, flinching when he smiles and shoves me against the wall.

  “Yes, you will,” he says, looming over me with a snarl.

  “No,” I insist because I can’t fathom doing this.

  I can’t. Griffin and I are already so far apart, taking the necklace when it’s already a sore fucking spot would be the end, and pathetically, pitifully, I can’t imagine the end even though I know it’s already here.

  But no matter what happens, I’m fucked because I can stare into Max’s eyes and say no and face the consequences, or I can lose any hope I ever had of seeing love behind Griffin’s eyes.

  “Why do you even think the necklace would be here?”

  “Because this is where his mom keeps her valuables. He told me once."

  He paces away, and I rub my aching arms as I watch him helplessly. The longer we speak, the more agitated he becomes, and I’m starting to regret entering the room alone. I should have been more careful because I’ve put myself in another fucking situation in which I have no control.

  I guess Max doesn’t know I still had the necklace and only recently gave it back to Griffin. It’s entirely likely it’s still at the house near campus, in which case, this was a futile quest, but maybe if I pretend to do as he asks, I can get out of this.

  At this point, I’ll worry about the money I need later because anything to do with Patch gives me hives anyway. Nothing good can come from this, especially if Max’s creepy friend is involved.

  “Max, if she stores her valuables here, they’re probably locked up.”

  “Yeah, well, just show Griffin your fucking twat, and I’m sure he’ll open it up for you,” he sneers.

  Bewildered, I stare at my brother, once more confused by where my sweet sibling went. Besides, he’s clearly delusional if he thinks I can seduce Griffin into anything. And even if I could, then what? I grab the necklace under his nose?

  “Max, Griffin hates me. We’ve established this. He’s not going to randomly open his mom’s safe because I ask nicely.”

  “I don’t care how you do it! Just do it!” he screams, the tendons in his neck standing on end.

  “Max—”

  “He’ll do whatever you want. He always has. Tell him you want the fucking necklace back if you have to.”

  “You’re not making any sense. Griffin can’t even stand to look at me. He’s not going to give me the necklace or anything else! Why is this so hard to understand?”

  “Because it’s a lie! He’s wanted you since we were twelve fucking years old. It’s always been you. Don’t you get it?”

  “If that’s true, then why hasn’t he just asked me?” I scream back, frustrated.

  “Because you fucked Bobby Moore!”

  “Really?” I huff. “I didn’t fucking sleep with that fucker.”

  “Whatever,” he says, shaking his head and gripping the back of his neck. “If you don’t get the necklace, I’m dead. Do you want me to die, Halsey?”

  The quiet desperation in his tone makes my heart clench tightly, and slowly I shake my head and whisper, “No.”

  “Then, you have to get it for me.”

  “Can’t we do something else? Anything?”

  “No!” he screams, barreling toward me and pushing me to the floor before sitting on top of me and grabbing my neck.

  My pulse is pounding so heavily, I can feel it in my head as he squeezes just enough to scare me. I buck under him and flail wildly, caught in my nightmare for a minute as I lose sight of Max above me.

  It’s cold, and it hurts so fucking much. The stars mock me from the sky, their brilliance at odds with the dull feeling in my chest.

  “You’ll get the damn necklace!” he rages, bringing me back to the present, and closing my eyes against his anger, I grab his hands desperately, but for my efforts, he just squeezes tighter.

  “Do you understand?” His eyes are black and unfocused.

  Nodding, I try to say yes around the fear choking my throat, and finally, he lets me loose as he rolls away and sits against the side of the bed, clutching his head and rocking back and forth rapidly.

  Gasping, I roll over and touch my neck, now tender from his fucking brutal hands, before I pull myself to my feet and rush to the door, escaping while Max sits where I left him.

  Racing to my room, I don’t see anyone as I close the door behind me and lock it before sliding to the floor with a silent sob. I don’t know what to do. If I tell someone, will this put Max in danger? If I don’t, am I endangering him anyway?

  Should I tell my parents? Or Griffin? I just don’t fucking know, and I’m scared.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I’m standing on the edge, and the stones are slippery.

  After a sleepless night, I emerge the following morning grimly. I have no choice but to play the game until I can get out of here because Max is a loose cannon, and I stupidly put myself in his path.

  What will he do if I don’t comply?

  I know I should tell someone, but who’s going to believe me now? I’m the liar who almost ruined Jason’s life because I was hurt, he dumped me. Besides, I couldn’t bear for my mom to know…and the videos? Holy fuck.

  With a sigh, I wrap up in a sweatshirt because although Max didn’t leave marks on my throat, I’ve got a few fingertip-size bruises on my arms. Hopefully, it won’t look too odd, considering it’s eighty degrees outside, and everyone else is in their bathing suits.

  The hall is empty when I exit, and Griffin’s door stands open, like an invitation that I can’t resist. Cautiously I step inside, looking around like a skeevy jerk, but it’s empty, and I check the adjoining bath just in case, noting sourly that his room is three times the size of mine and fit for a prince. Ye gods, are those dual showerheads?

  “Thinking about a shower?” Griffin asks silkily behind me, and I close my eyes.

  Why? It’s like he has a sixth sense and can sniff out whenever I’m contemplating trouble.

  Taking a deep breath, I screw my expression into nonchalance. “Well, you left me in the servant’s quarters. I’m comparing notes.”

  “Oh?” he chuckles. “I’m offended. You don’t like the room I picked? Considering I was forced to bring you when your mother hates my guts, I guess you’ll have to deal, hm?”

  Wincing, I turn back to him, noting he’s wearing nothing but board shorts, and he looks fucking hot, of course. Resisting the urge to lick my lips, I meet his hate-filled gaze and flinch because I guess the reminder of my mother didn’t go over well.

  “Speaking of which, are you going to tell her you lied? Or shall I?” he asks icily.

  My heart drops to my toes and circles the drain, and licking my lips for real this time, I say, “Um…”

  “You weren’t planning to tell her? Maybe your saintly mother should know just how diabolical her fucking lying daughter is,” he says, his eyes flashing.

  “Griffi—”

  “Well? Was it a lie?”

  Dropping my gaze, I nod because I don’t know what else to do.

  He steps into my space and I suck in a quiet breath. “Why?”

  “Why what?” Blindly, I stare at his chest, my heart in my throat.

  “If you lied, just tell me why.”

  The pleading note slays me and I search his gaze looking for whatever it is he sees when he looks at me. A liar? The old Halsey? The new version—lost and fucking scared?

  But I can’t go back and forward means
protecting the last of my shredded fucking dignity. So, I lie. Again.

  “I,” I whisper, licking my lips. “I was ashamed. You know, of my behavior.”

  He steps back with eyes so dark I shiver and wrap my arms around my middle.

  “Enough,” he says, slashing his hand through the air with a pained expression. “I’m tired of the bullshit. You fucked a bunch of his friends. Who cares? Making up a story to feel better about yourself? Fucking disgusting. You’re a pretty little liar, Halsey Moore.”

  Shrinking under his censure, I will back the tears in my eyes, raging against it all in my head, but it’s this or he sees the video, and that’s so much worse. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing for things that can never be.

  Strangely I’m reminded of my thoughts before, that I’d rather him see me as the pathetic girl he traded away for fifty bucks, and the irony is enough to curdle my damn stomach. I guess I got what I wanted regardless, but the victory is bitter fucking sour.

  Opening my mouth to respond, he cuts me off once again. “But I don’t care.”

  “Huh?” I ask, staring into his cool hazel eyes.

  “I want you anyway,” he growls, stepping forward and pulling me into his arms.

  I have no time to process his words before his mouth closes over mine, and he’s sucking my tongue between his lips. Bewildered, I stand stiffly in his arms until it penetrates, and I open under the assault, my veins immediately heating through.

  I moan against him, as ever caught between what I should do and what I desire, which is oblivion. Standing on my tiptoes for a better angle, I close my eyes as tingles break out in my core, the rough motions against his erection sliding through me deliciously.

  Without a word spoken between us, he lifts me and places me on the counter, spreading my legs and running the palm of his hand against my jeans-clad core.

  “So sweet,” he murmurs, pulling my shorts down my legs.

  Helplessly, I lean back, my feet on the counter, as he pushes my legs wide and kneels between them before licking me up and back down.