The Lies We Tell: An Enemy to Lovers Young Adult Romance (Pushed Aside Book 3)

by Cassandra Hallman

  I try to get up without making a sound but the creaking noise the mattress’ springs are making seems to be coming from a megaphone. Still, Colt doesn’t stir. I take the pillow and put it on the floor next to him. He is already leaning to the side if I can get him to go down all the way I can get the door open enough to squeeze through.

  I push softly on his shoulder, realizing quickly that he is much heavier than I anticipated. I start pushing him over with both of my hands until his head hits the pillow. I wait for a moment making sure he really didn’t wake up. When I am certain that he is still out, I pry the door open and few inches and squeeze myself through.

  I sneak down the hallway until I reach the door I am looking for. I slide the dead bolt over and push the door open. The woman is sitting on the floor, looking at me wide-eyed.

  “Come on, you need to leave!” I scream to whisper, looking back and forth to her and down the hall. She is on her feet and by my side the next instant. She pads my arm like she is checking if I’m really here. “It’s okay. Go on and get help. I’ll keep him busy.”

  “Are you sure?” She whispers back. “You should come with me.”

  “No, go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

  I stand frozen in the barely lit hallway as I watch her run down the stairs. Am I going to be fine? I did the thing again, where I acted before thinking. Colt is going to be furious about this. He said he isn’t going to hurt me and I want to believe him. I really can’t imagine him hurting me, but I also can’t imagine him hurting anyone else and I know he has. So, there is that.

  Should I make a run for it and break my promise or should I stay and risk getting hurt? While I have an inner debate with myself I hear someone move around down the hall. I look up and meets Colt’s angry stare. “What did you do?” He growls, jogging toward me.

  “I-I let…I let her go,” I stutter, suddenly not sure if I made the right decision. I take a step to the side when Colt stops a few inches away from me. I press myself against the wall, next to the door frame. Colt’s eyes turn two shades darker as he looks from me, to the open door.

  I flatten myself against the wall. Making myself as small as I can, I wish the wall would suck me in and hide me. He looks mad. No, furious. His body is shaking with anger. I’m shaking for a different reason. His hands are balled into tight fists making his knuckles turn white and he is breathing heavily. He swings his arm back like he is about to punch me. All I can do is close my eyes and wait for the pain to come. A loud smash next to my ear makes my whole body jerk, but the pain never reaches me.

  Slowly, I open one of my eyes to take a peek. Colt punched the wall next to my head. His fist is still there when he leans into me. His face only an inch away from mine. Our foreheads are almost touching and I can feel his breath on my skin when he whispers, “you don’t belong here.”

  I don’t belong here? What is that supposed to mean?

  He brought me here. I might not exactly know where I belong yet, but it is not here for sure. He leans away from me and I try to get my ragged breathing under control.

  “We need to leave, now.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me to the other room to gather all of his stuff in lightning speed. He leads me back down the hallway and into the stairwell. We only make it one flight of stairs before we hear the door open a few floors below us and someone running up the stairs. Before I have even time to think about screaming, Colt’s arms come around me. One hand is tightly covering my mouth as he drags me to a dark corner in the hallway leading away from the stairs. I don’t even fight him, I just let him push me against the wall so we are hidden by the darkness.

  I am wedged between Colt and the wall. From where we are positioned we can see into the staircase but nobody should be able to see us. A few seconds later, I see two figures run up the stairs. We wait. I don’t move.

  Sobs echo down the stairwell, bouncing off the walls. They become louder as two sets footsteps slowly make their way downstairs. When the two figures reappear into view I try to step closer to them, but Colt tightens his grip on me. My own sob is silenced by his hand over my mouth, but a few tears still escape my eyes.

  Jenna looks like she is barely holding on. Hunter is holding her, carrying most of her weight. I’ve never seen him in person, but Jen showed me a bunch of pictures of her friends. The same friends who didn’t even know that I existed, until now.

  8

  Colt

  I drive down the bumpy dirt road surrounded by nothing besides mud puddles, bare trees, and endless fields. The old trailer is tucked away in the middle of nowhere. I hate coming here, I have never liked this place. Too many bad memories are floating around in the air. I am only here now because this is the safest option right now. Josie is sitting silently in the passenger seat beside me. She looks sad, but she doesn’t look like she is scared senseless anymore.

  I park the car right in front of the run down double wide. I should burn this place down. Maybe I can burn the images that have been engraved in my mind with it. Then I can finally let go of the things I went through while I was here.

  Josie walks with me around to the back of the trailer and watches me while I start the generator. It takes me a few tries before I get this rusty old thing going. “You want to take a shower?” I ask her on the way in.

  “Yes, please.”

  I lead her to the bathroom and get out some clean towels and toiletries from my bag. “Leave the door cracked open, take off all your clothes and throw them out the door before you get into the shower.”

  Her eyes double in size at my orders. “Why?”

  “Because I am going to start the washer and I thought you might want some clean clothes. Also, I figured you are less likely to climb out the window and run away when you are naked.”

  “Yes, you are right. In both cases.” She gets into the bathroom and does what I told her to do, while I wait next to the door for her clothes. Her bare arms come into view and she lets her stuff fall into a pile on the floor next to me. I pick them up and shut the door behind her to give her more privacy. I gather more clothes and throw them all in the washer.

  Walking around this place trying to find some clean sheets, without being reminded of all the things that have happened here is futile. From my childhood until the day I brought Eliza here, this house has been nothing but a pillar of sorrow. I should really burn it down.

  Ten years ago

  It’s been a week since granny’s funeral. I still can’t believe she is gone. She was fine in the morning and then, a few hours later she was just gone. A whole life full of memories, a million moments, endless thoughts, hopes and dreams, just gone.

  I don’t think Uncle Rick likes me being here. I’m a burden, he said.

  I take out the small yellow ceramic bird I stole from the store this morning and set it on the dresser next to my bed. I took it because it reminds me of her, she would have loved it and it would have matched the rest of her pretty decorated house perfectly.

  Today was only my second day at the new school and I have a lot of catching up to do. I work on my homework on my bed, so I can glance at the bird while I work. The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky and the rays coming through the window bounce of the bird’s shiny surface. It’s pretty and it is the only beautiful thing in this place.

  I’m still reading when I hear the truck pull up in front of the trailer, making my gut twist. I would rather be alone. To make things worse, Uncle Rick is drunk when he walks in the house. I’m not sure if he drinks on the job or if he goes to the bar after work. Either way, he comes home drunk more often than he is sober. Not that he is much more tolerable when he is not drinking.

  He comes into my room, stopping in front of my bed. I don’t look up to him until he rips the book from my hand. “What is this crap?”

  “It’s my homework.”

  “I don’t know why you bother with this? You are way too stupid to make it through school. Just like your dumb-ass mother,” he slurs, dropping my book on the floor.


  His insult to me doesn’t bother me that much, but I hate him talking about her. I don’t even remember my mom, so I don’t understand why his remark makes me want to stand up for her. I hold my tongue, not wanting to give him a reason to linger. I just want him to go away.

  He kicks my book to the corner of the room. Just when I think he is about to leave, he glances at the birds on my dresser. “What’s this shit?”

  He goes to pick it up and the same time I jump of the bed. “No! Don’t touch that!”

  “What this?” He smirks and throws the small trinket against the wall, shattering it into a million little pieces. I look down at the broken bird. Just like my grandmothers life, it was there, strong and beautiful one minute, gone the next.

  I want to cry, but I am not giving him the satisfaction. Instead I concentrate on my anger, hold on to it like it’s my life line. He steps forward, crushing some of the broken pieces with his boots like it doesn’t mean anything. That’s when I lose it. All I see is red. I charge for him, not caring about that he is three times my size. My small fist hitting his stomach, legs and ribs.

  “You little shit! Who do you think you are?” He growls. He grabs my arm so tightly, tears spring from my eyes from the pain. He unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops of his pants. The first strike hits my upper thigh so silently it make my knees buckle. The ones that follow only get worse. Even through the clothes I’m wearing, my skin feels raw and on fire. Every strike feels worse than the one before, especially when he hits a spot twice or three times.

  By the time he is done, he is breathing heavy and sweat is running down his forehead. He lets go of my arm and I fall to the ground, unable to keep myself up on my feet. I go to sleep huddled up on the floor wishing I would never wake up.

  The next day my whole body hurts. My arms are an array of blueish-purple bruises and deep red streaks decorating the rest of my body. I have to concentrate on walking straight, I don’t want anyone to notice how messed up I am. I keep to myself, sit in the back of the class and only talk when I am spoken to. It’s not like anyone is interested in knowing me or being my friend anyway.

  When I grab the tray at lunch I ask the lunch lady for some extra. I don’t even care what it is. I’m just tired of being hungry at night. She shakes her head at me. “If I give one kid extra, then everybody wants extra. Can’t do that.”

  Thanks for nothing. I take my tray and find an empty table to sit at. The guy who was behind me in line follows me closely and I’m about to ask him what his problem is when he says, “hey, I don’t really like this and I had a huge breakfast. You want half of mine?”

  I turn to look at him. He looks genuine but I still want to turn him down. I don’t want to be a social case depending on a hand out. Thinking about how hunger makes my stomach hurt when I lay in bed at night, leads me to say yes at the end.

  “Cool, hey why don’t you come sit with me and my buddy,” he says pointing to another kid who is already eating. Reluctantly I follow him to the table and sit down.

  “You the new kid, aren’t you?”

  “The one.”

  “We are fairly new ourselves, I just moved here a few weeks ago, and this guy only got here at the beginning of the year,” he tells me, pointing to his friend.

  “I’m Colt, by the way.” I introduce myself.

  “Nice to meet you Colt. I’m Hunter, this is Jaxon.”

  I change the sheets in the bedroom while I wait for Josie to come back out of the shower. When the bathroom door finally opens, she sticks her head out. “What am I supposed to wear right now?”

  I walk up to her and hand her one of my t-shirts and a pair of my shorts. She is wrapped up in a towel but I can tell she is still uncomfortable being so exposed. I swiftly turn away from her and walk off. A few minutes later she walks out dressed in my clothes looking at me like a lost puppy.

  I'm already holding the handcuffs in my hand and her eyes zero in on them instantly. “Look, I need to take a quick shower as well. I’ll only be five minutes.”

  She nods and steps closer while holding out her hand to me.

  “No freaking out about the handcuffs today?” I ask her.

  “It wasn’t the handcuffs that were freaking me out. I mean, I am not particularly fond of them but that's not what I was scared of.”

  I wait for her to further explain. When she doesn’t offer one, my curiosity takes over. “What were you scared of then?”

  She sighs, “I just don’t like being left alone. I’ll be fine now since you are just going to be in the other room.”

  I look at her dumbfounded, trying to figure out if she is being serious.

  “I think it’s a twin thing. I have never been comfortable being by myself and I sleep much better when someone is in the room with me.” She keeps explaining while I spread out a small blanket next to the broken radiator in the bedroom.

  “Did you know that twins start to interact with each other while they are still in their mother's womb?” Her random fact question makes me smile. “They start doing that around fourteen weeks of gestation.”

  “No, I did not.” I motion for her to come and sit on the blanket. Even though she said she was okay with this, she looks nervous now. “Five minutes and I’ll be back,” I tell her as I cuff her to the radiator.

  I hurry up in the shower as much as I can so she doesn’t have to sit on the cold floor for long. I dry off and quickly pull on some comfortable clothes. As promised, I make it out in five minutes and release her from the radiator. Instead of taking the handcuffs off all the way, I leave one side on her wrist and cuff the other side to my own.

  “What are you doing?” She gasps.

  “I have only slept a few hours in the last few days. I really need to lay down and catch up on sleep. Plus, the heat is not working and there is only one warm comforter.” I wasn’t sure if she was going to freak out about this, but she takes it surprisingly well. I lie down in one side of the bed, tugging Josie with me. I put the heavy blanket over both of us and try to get comfortable on the old pillow under my head. We are both on our backs and no parts of our bodies are touching. It still doesn’t take long for it to get nice and warm underneath the blanket.

  “Are you mad at me for letting that women go?”

  “No,” I say. “I was mad, but not at you.” I needed to punch something, but I didn’t mean to scare her. Once I saw how frightened she was, my anger receded quickly. Quicker than it ever did before. I have tried everything the shrinks at the anger management classes have told me to do. All the breathing techniques in the world didn’t help the way Josie was able to, just by looking at me.

  Somehow, she calms me and makes me feel sane. The feeling is so foreign to me that I really had to think about what it is. It’s peace. I have always felt so out of control, like an uncontrollable storm that grabs hold and destroys everything in its path. When I am with her, I feel at peace. She is able to calm the storm inside me as nothing has before. I know I don’t deserve this peace she is giving me, but I don’t want it to stop either.

  “What did you mean when you say that I don’t belong here?”

  I answer her with a question on my own. “Why did you let Mindy go and why didn’t you run away with her?”

  “A child needs her mom, not some replacement.” The hurt tone in her voice is apparent and I know she is talking from experience. “I didn’t run, because I promised you that I was not going to do it.”

  “You are too good for this world, Josie. That’s what I meant earlier. The world is ugly and full of selfish people. You are like a sunflower in a field of rosebushes. You just don’t belong.”

  “Roses are beautiful.”

  “Yes, to look at. But if you touch them, they’ll hurt you.”

  “Not if you are being careful.”

  I let her have the last word on this. I am too tired to argue with her further. My eyelids are already lined with lead and it doesn’t take me long before I drift off.

  All day
I’ve been so content with Josie, that the nightmares hit me harder than they normally do. Being here in this rotten place bring back dreams I haven’t had in a long time. A change from my usual night terror, but just as nerve-wracking.

  Something cold and hard tugs on my wrist, while something warm and soft is pushing on my chest. I try to swat away whatever is pushing on me but my arms are not participating yet.

  “Colt, wake up!” An angelic voice calls me from far away. “Come on, wake up!”

  Recognition seeps in and awareness slowly returns to me. I pry my eyes open and see Josie kneeling on the bed next to me looking concerned. She is half on top of me, her hands on my shoulders. The handcuffs connecting us is pulling my arm along. With my free hand, I wipe the thin layer of cold sweat of my forehead and try to get my breathing under control.

  “I’m okay,” I assure her. She doesn’t move.

  Hovering over me she says quietly, “I don’t believe you.” She inspecting my face like she is trying to solve a puzzle. She straightens up to sit back on her heels and I have the urge to grab her and hold her close to me.

  “Seriously, I’m fine,” I try to convince her.

  “You always have nightmares likes that?”

  “Sometimes.” More like all the time, but she doesn’t need to know that. She looks like she is already worried about me and the thought of her caring like this confuses me, I like how she seems to care for me, yet I am confused to the how and why. By all counts she should hate me, she should revel in seeing me in pain. Anybody else I know would, but not Josie. Not my little sunflower.