The Lies We Tell: An Enemies to Lovers College Bully Romance (The Four Book 1)

by Becca Steele

  Rolling my eyes, I pulled out my phone, taking a long drag of my joint. Might as well check the security feeds since the boys were all occupied. Tech genius that my little brother was, he’d set up an app where we could check the cameras from our phones. I idly scrolled through the feeds; nothing out of the ordinary. It reminded me, though… “Hey, West?”

  “Yeah?” My brother took aim at the dartboard, the dart rebounding off the side and falling to the floor with a clatter. “Shit,” he muttered. “You made me lose my concentration.”

  I ignored his comment. Glancing over at the girl with Cassius to make sure she was occupied, I beckoned him over. “Can you install your tracking app on Winter’s phone? We can check her messages on that.”

  He frowned. “Yeah, I can, but you can’t check the contents of the messages. Just who she’s sending to and receiving from. It’s a bit of an invasion of privacy, though, isn’t it?”

  “Do you trust her? When she’s been hanging around Granville, not to mention I watched her looking very friendly with her mother earlier. Don’t be fooled by her, bro.”

  “Whatever. I’ll see if I can get hold of her phone.” He shook his head at me and returned to his game.

  Grabbing Cassius’ vodka again, ignoring his frown, I tipped it to my lips, the burning liquid sliding down my throat.

  Someone started banging loudly on the door, and my head shot up.

  “Who’s that?” Weston called.

  “How the fuck would I know?” Since everyone else was occupied, I got up with a sigh, heading over to the door and throwing it open.

  Cassius’ younger sister, Lena, burst into the room, her usual sulky pout in place, but I barely noticed her. My attention was caught by a familiar figure, way down the corridor. Winter, looking shifty, glancing around her furtively. Staying back so she didn’t notice me, I watched as she slipped past the roped-off area that marked this corridor as out of bounds to most guests, other than those who were in my dad’s inner circle.

  Every one of my senses was on high alert.

  What are you up to, Snowflake?

  She shuffled down the corridor and suddenly stopped in front of a door, peering in. Bad, bad idea, Winter. I shook my head at her stupidity. Didn’t she know that curiosity killed the cat? She needed to be more careful, otherwise it wouldn’t just be the cat that ended up dead.

  I turned away, crossing back to the sofa and sinking back down. It was so frustrating, not being able to hack into my dad’s security system. West had tried so many times, with no success. I needed to know where else Winter had been tonight, since I’d left her. Clearly, she was up to something. I shouldn’t have left her alone.

  Too late, now. She’d wandered somewhere she shouldn’t, and now she was going to wish she’d never gone exploring.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Lena as she threw her phone down with a huff. “Can someone take me home?”

  “You’re a fucking mess, sis.” Cass looked up from the girl and frowned at her. “Your eye…make-up stuff is all over your face, and your hair looks like you’ve been dragged through a bush. What have you been doing?”

  “Who have I been doing, you mean.” Her pout disappeared for a moment, replaced with an evil grin.

  “Don’t. Whoever it is, I’m going to kill them. No one touches my sister.”

  “Fuck off, Cass. I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

  “But you still need someone to take you home,” he said dryly.

  “Ugh. Can you stop playing the annoying big brother and just take me home?” She stamped her foot, and both Cassius and I snorted.

  “Really mature. How did you get here, anyway?”

  “James kindly brought me.” She smiled, a dreamy look coming into her eyes.

  What the fuck was everyone’s obsession with Granville at the moment? The guy was an asshole. And a Granville.

  She continued speaking. “He can’t take me home since he’s had a drink. Mum and Dad left ages ago, and I just tried to get an Uber, but they can’t come for another forty-five minutes.”

  “I’ll take you,” my brother called, walking over to her.

  “No, I’ll take her.” Zayde came to stand next to him.

  Weston turned to him. “I already offered.”

  “I’m taking her,” Zayde stated flatly.

  I watched their exchange with interest as I swiped the vodka and took another large swig. They both stared at each other, neither willing to back down. I actually admired my brother for even having this stare-off with Zayde—he was a scary fucker.

  “Sorry, West, but Z has a bike. And I need to feel the power between my legs, if you know what I’m saying.”

  Cassius groaned while the side of Zayde’s mouth tipped up slightly. “Come on.”

  “Look after my sister, and don’t touch her!” Cassius shouted after him as he followed Lena out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him.

  “What was all that about, West?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered. He walked back over to the dartboard and picked up a handful of darts, throwing them at the board with no care or finesse, clearly angry, but it was obvious I wasn’t going to get anything out of him.

  “You never answered my question.” Cassius leaned back against the sofa, the girl now perched on the arm, scrolling through her phone.

  “What. Question.”

  “Do you think Winter looked hot tonight?”

  “Fuck off, mate. I’m not in the mood.” I grabbed the vodka and took another quick swig before he could swipe it.

  “I knew you did,” he said smugly, eyeing me.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Give me my vodka back.” I pushed it across the coffee table towards his sofa, and he picked it up. “Get your own drink. I need this.”

  “I’m out of here.” Weston, still frowning angrily, threw the last dart as he was turning away from the board, sending it rebounding off the wooden cabinet surround and clattering to the floor.

  I scrubbed my hand across my face and took another drag of my joint. What a great fucking evening this was turning out to be.

  TWELVE

  My hands were shaking with rage.

  Deep breaths.

  Okay, maybe I was overreacting, but it was my mother’s house. I wasn’t expecting to see anything out of the ordinary, as far as the party went. I assumed it would be a bunch of rich people, standing around drinking or whatever.

  Peering through the small opening, I could make out a huge darkened room, heavy curtains covering the windows. A few dim lamps were scattered around, providing the only sources of light. In the near corner to my right stood a large roulette table, people surrounding it, laughing, watching as the wheel decided their fortune. Well, probably not their fortune, going by the wealth that practically oozed from their pores, but it decided whether they were lucky or not.

  Straight ahead, off to my left, there was a giant TV screen, with another smaller screen next to it that looked like some kind of betting scoreboard with lists of names and odds next to each name. A large group of people—mostly men—gathered around the screens, shouting and cheering.

  It was what was on the larger screen that made my blood boil, my heart pounding, fury and nausea filling me. I could see two dogs fighting in some kind of pit, snarling and snapping at each other, foaming at the mouths. I watched as one of the dogs grabbed the throat of the other and began to shake it in its jaws, red blossoming on the fur. The other dog desperately tried to get away, scrabbling on the dirt floor, but it was no use. It let out a horrible high-pitched whimpering screech that was abruptly cut off. Its struggles died away, until… I couldn’t watch anymore. Bile rose in my throat, and I stood for a moment, clenching my jaw, struggling to contain my emotions.

  Anything to do with animals fighting, animal cruelty, basically any kind of animals struggling, and I was raging. The jeers and laughter from the spectators in the room only fuelled my anger.

  A memory flashed through my mind,
long buried, repressed and forgotten until that moment. My father, buying me a puppy for my fourth birthday. My mother, screaming at him for being irresponsible, that dogs were a waste of space, the argument raging on and on. My poor puppy quivering in fear, until I’d scooped her up, and we’d both hidden in the laundry room, huddled in a corner against the dryer. The next morning, coming downstairs to find the front door wide open and no sign of my puppy. Running outside and seeing the small, limp bundle of fur under the back wheel of my mother’s car. Her insisting it was an accident. My inconsolable cries.

  Fuck. I swallowed hard, pushing the memory away and coming back to the present, to the people taking joy in the torment of these animals.

  I had to do something. Anything.

  Reaching out my hand, I hesitated, then took a step forwards, ready to throw open the door.

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

  I whirled around to find the speaker leaning casually against the wall, one eyebrow raised. He looked so much like an older version of Zayde, I immediately guessed who he was. I temporarily forgot what I was so angry about as I took him in.

  “Zayde’s dad?”

  “Michael Lowry, at your service.” He bowed exaggeratedly, his dark eyes twinkling at me, and I laughed, surprised. How different could he be from his son?

  “Winter Huntington. Lovely to meet you.”

  “Enchanté.” He took my hand and kissed it, a smile on his handsome face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. As he lowered it, he stepped a little closer, dropping his voice.

  “Whatever you were thinking, don’t.”

  “I-I just…I,” I stammered.

  “Let me guess. The dogs?” He sighed heavily, a sympathetic twist to his mouth.

  I nodded, my fists clenching.

  “Listen. There are some things in this world you need to turn a blind eye to. Believe me, you don’t want to be meddling with those people. It could get you into serious trouble.”

  “But—”

  “There’s nothing that can be done. Those dogs were bred for violence. Besides that, they’re at a protected location, so you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, other than cause a scene. Should it be happening? No, but it is what it is. Do not, under any circumstances, do anything to put yourself on the radar of the people here. You don’t want to get on their bad side. Trust me.”

  The warning in both his tone and his eyes gave me pause. What could I do, really? He was right—I’d just be causing a scene if I said anything, and it would all be for nothing.

  “I guess you’re right,” I whispered, defeated.

  “Chin up. Why don’t you go and find your friends? Last I saw of them, they were in the study.” He pointed down the hallway to another door off to the left.

  “Okay. Thanks.” I gave him a small smile, and he winked at me, then walked around me into the room I’d been peering into and closed the door behind him.

  I headed down the corridor, still upset and angry. Fuck staying sober for the night. I needed a drink.

  Bursting through the door that Zayde’s dad had indicated, I came to a sudden stop, almost running into Weston, who gave me a muttered “hi” before he slipped out of the room.

  “What’s the matter with him?” I asked myself, making a beeline for the crystal decanter standing on a polished walnut sideboard straight in front of me. Yanking out the stopper, I poured a generous measure into one of the glasses on the silver tray next to the decanter. I threw the drink down my throat, gasping at the burn and shuddering at the taste. Whiskey. Ugh.

  I poured another. And downed it.

  As the fire warmed me from within, I turned around to survey my surroundings. Through a haze of smoke, I saw Cassius reclining on a brown leather chesterfield sofa, a bottle of clear liquid dangling from his hand. He watched me with a mixture of amusement and concern. A beautiful brunette sat on the arm of the sofa next to him, and his hand lazily trailed up and down her thigh. Directly opposite him on an identical sofa was Caiden, glaring at me. A-fucking-gain.

  My blood was boiling, I was all riled up from the dog fighting, and the alcohol was kicking in. I wanted to pick a fight.

  I stormed over to Caiden, ripping the joint from his mouth and taking a deep drag, then throwing it into the ashtray on the side table next to the sofa. “What exactly is your fucking problem?” I stood right in front of him, hands on my hips, glaring right back at him.

  He blinked slowly. “What the fuck? Did you just take my joint?”

  Ignoring his question, I stepped closer, leaning down and prodding a finger into his hard chest, so angry I wasn’t thinking straight.

  I was sick of this. Sick of his hostility towards me; the way he treated me 90 percent of the time; the way he clearly thought I was beneath him.

  I directed all of my wrath at him as our eyes met, and his darkened, his brows pulling together. “What. Is. Your. Pro—”

  His arms shot out, and he yanked me onto his lap. Before I could process what the actual fuck was happening, I was straddling him, he had one arm tightly around my back, the other gripping the back of my head, and his lips were on mine, hard and furious.

  It was like fireworks.

  Explosions of sensation that I felt all over my body as his mouth attacked mine. I kissed him back just as savagely, channelling all my rage into the kiss, biting his bottom lip, hard. I tasted blood and my tongue darted out to swipe at his lip.

  He growled low in his throat, pulling me closer.

  I never wanted this kiss to end.

  His tongue swiped at mine, and I opened my mouth for him, the kiss turning from savage and punishing, to more… Fuck. I couldn’t even describe it. I shifted against him, freeing my arms from where they’d been trapped between us when he pulled me onto him, winding them around his strong shoulders, stroking my hands over the short hairs at the back of his neck.

  He shivered and bit my lower lip, more gently than I’d bitten his, and I moaned, moving my hands up to thread my fingers through his hair. He responded by sliding his tongue into my mouth, sending shock waves of pleasure through me, and I lost myself in his kiss.

  “About fucking time.” The amused voice came from behind me, and Caiden and I broke apart, dazed, the mixture of lust and confusion whirling through me reflected in his eyes. What the fuck had just happened?

  I brought a trembling hand to my lips, staring at him, wide-eyed. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his lashes sweeping down to hide his expression from me as I studied him. My mind was scrambled, I was buzzed from the alcohol and the weed, and now, after that mind-blowing kiss, I was horny as fuck. For him.

  Choosing to ignore Cassius, I rolled my hips, moving against Caiden. Fuck, he was hard.

  This felt so good. I needed more. I rolled my hips again, and he groaned, moving his hands to cup my waist, his head falling back against the sofa.

  “Get a room.”

  This time round, Cassius’ voice seemed to snap Caiden out of the lust-induced bubble we’d been in. “No.” He shook his head. “No,” he repeated, lifting me off him and depositing me on the sofa. He staggered to his feet and stormed out of the door, slightly unsteady.

  “What just happened? And why did you have to ruin it?” I looked over at Cassius, who, in the time I’d been…occupied…with Caiden, had managed to lose the girl he’d been sitting with, and he was reclining against the sofa, every now and then lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a swig.

  “C’mere, babe.” He patted the sofa next to him. Obediently I stumbled over to him and collapsed onto the seat, scrubbing my hand over my face.

  “What’s going on, Cass?”

  “Drink.” He handed me the bottle, and I took a large swig, coughing and spluttering as the vodka went down my throat. The next swig went down more smoothly, and I sighed, leaning into his arm.

  “Smoke?”

  I took the joint from his outstretched fingers.

  We sat there for a while, passing the bottle and the joint between us un
til I was pleasantly numb, my big plan to investigate my mother completely foiled by vodka and weed.

  “Here’s the thing, babe,” Cassius finally said, his words slurred from the effects of the drink. “It’s obvious Cade thinks you’re sexy as fuck, yeah? But he kind of hates you, y’know. Seeing you looking like that tonight—” He waved a hand lazily in my direction. “—and with the drinks, and the weed, and his jealous thing with Granville…think he just gave in to his urges. He’ll be kicking himself tomorrow.”

  Through my drunken haze, I tried to make sense of what he was saying. “I don’t get why he hates me.”

  He lowered his voice. “You look like your mother. He hates her. You remind him of her.” Swallowing hard, he mumbled, “And he doesn’t trust you, does he. Thinks you might be working with her.”

  “Huh?” I tried to get my addled brain in order. “Working with her? What do you mean?”

  “She’s up to something. Bad. We’ve been keeping tabs on her. And you.”

  He stared down at me, dawning horror in his eyes as he realised what he’d said. “Fuck, shouldn’t have told you that. I’m too wasted for this. Don’t ask me anything else.”

  This was a conversation I needed to have with all the boys, and sober. I had to get one thing straight, though. Maybe the alcohol and weed had lowered my inhibitions or whatever, but I felt like I could trust Cassius.

  “Cass.” I waited until he looked at me, his eyes glazing over. “Cass.”

  He blinked a few times. “What?”

  I carefully climbed onto my knees on the sofa, using Cassius’ arm to steady myself, and leaned in so I could whisper in his ear. Somehow, I managed to get the garbled words out. “I came to Alstone to investigate my mother. I think she may have had a hand in my father’s death.”

  “What?” His stunned inhalation echoed loudly in the room.

  “Yeah. Talk about it tomorrow, hmm?”

  Shock at my words warred with the drunken stupor he was falling into. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” He yawned widely and slid down, arranging himself so he was lying lengthways, his head propped up on a cushion which leaned on the arm of the sofa. He tugged me down so I was lying with my back against his front and draped his arm over me.