All The Lies

by Kent, Rina

  He runs the pad of his calloused thumb over my cheek as if to prove a point, to lure me into his trap like a predator would do to its prey.

  “Is that so, Reina?”

  “Stop it,” I hiss, looking around. Weʼre in view of the staff’s entrance. Anyone could come out and see us.

  “I wonder what I’ll find if I check.”

  “Check what?” I breathe.

  “If I reach under those little shorts, pull your panties to the side, and thrust two fingers into your pussy, what will I find?”

  It’s as if someone doused me with fuel, igniting a fire.

  If I was blushing before then his dirty words have me all crimson now. The bottom of my stomach contracts with wicked anticipation.

  Logically, I know I need to stop him, but I can’t fight the need to know more, to dig more.

  Just more.

  “So? What will I find, Reina?”

  The whisper of my name out of his mouth isn’t just a name. It’s a promise. A damnation. A sinister journey that pulls me closer, refusing to let me go.

  Who knew my damn name could have this effect?

  His hand slides from my waist to the space where my shorts meet my thighs. I suck in a breath through my teeth at the feel of his fingers disappearing under the fabric.

  His thumb and forefinger grip my chin as he murmurs, “Will I find you wet?”

  I bite my lower lip to stop the voice that’s trying to escape.

  And yes, I’m totally wet. My thighs have been slick with arousal since the moment he caught me against his half-naked body.

  “I guess I have to find out on my own.” His hand stops between my thighs. I might have parted them, hoping for more friction or something.

  Anything.

  “I’m not stupid enough to think you’ve been saving yourself for me, but I want to know.” His voice drops to a dangerous range that feeds the goosebumps on my arms.

  I throw him a curious glance as I fight the symphony of feelings going through me. That’s all I can do when I’m with him.

  Feel.

  And sometimes, like right now, it’s too much. Everything is crashing down on me from every side.

  “Who did you give it up to?” The lust is still there, but something a lot more frightening lurks underneath.

  “W-what?”

  “Your virginity, prom queen. Who took it?”

  Prom queen.

  It’s the first time he’s called me that. It’s usually monster this or monster that.

  I focus back on his question. Isn’t he my fiancé since I was ten or something? He should have been my first, no?

  I watch him closely, his broad shoulders and sculpted face, the way his body angles toward mine both in menace and in something else.

  If I had this man, I wouldn’t think about cheating on him.

  But then again, Old Reina and I don’t think the same. Maybe she wasn’t as hung up on Asher as I am. In that case, we totally need to talk so she can give me pointers on how to pull myself out of his spell.

  “Was it Jason?” he continues in that cool, threatening tone. “Someone on the team? Or wait…” He looks me up and down. “Did you pull a ‘fuck you’ card and give it to Owen or Sebastian? Maybe both at the same time?”

  I pull my fist back and slam it into his chest. It’s hard enough that he stumbles backward, putting much-needed space between us.

  Pressure builds behind my eyes, but I refuse to let him see that.

  I refuse to let him see how much he affects me.

  “If you want to think of me as a slut, go ahead, but don’t you dare imply I’d put myself down just to get back at you. Newsflash, Ash: you don’t deserve any of my actions to be dedicated to you.” I flip my hair, having learned from Naomi how much that fills me with confidence. “And you’re such an asshole for thinking so little of your friends. You don’t deserve Owen and Sebastian.”

  I turn to leave, but a strong hand clasps around my wrist and pulls me back. I end up flush against his hard, naked chest as his eyes search mine.

  There’s something in them that’s never been there before. It’s like he’s really searching for something—or someone.

  His perfect brows draw together over stormy eyes that dissect my soul with each passing second.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he murmurs, still watching me like a hawk.

  I place a hand over his chest, wanting—no, needing him to understand.

  “I don’t know, Ash. I really don’t know who I am anymore. I woke up one day with no recollection of who or what I am, and I learned how much of a monster I’ve been. But I’m trying. I swear I’m really trying to be better and to make up for what I’ve done. So how about you help me out? If you tell me what I did to you, I’ll do everything in my power to fix it.”

  I didn’t expect anything out of my confession. Asher already has his perception about me, and it’ll take a miracle to change it.

  He takes me by complete surprise when he sighs as if in defeat. “Some things can’t be fixed.”

  I soften my voice. “Try me.”

  “You might have lost your memories, but I didn’t.” His voice turns biting. “I remember everything. It’s all I can remember.”

  My heart thumps loud and hard as if about to escape my chest. There’s so much hate in his eyes. It’s like a deadly disease eating him from the inside out. There’s a bit of confusion, too, but his hateful side suffocates everything else.

  A lump the size of a ball lodges at the back of my throat as I choke the words out. “What did I do? Tell me.”

  “You ruined my fucking life, monster.” His usual hardness disappears. His words are a cold, frosty statement that freezes me to the bone.

  I open my mouth to say something then a shadow approaches us from the side. Asher releases me, and I stumble backward as if I’ve been burned.

  “Rei.” Alex stops beside us with a clipped smile on his face, the one I call his lawyer smile. He usually uses that to ward off unwanted attention, or whenever he has a conversation with Asher.

  That is, when they actually do speak.

  Alex and Asher might look like father and son, but their conversations are non-existent. I barely see them acknowledge each other in the house.

  Either the father-son link is too invisible, or it’s simply broken. Izzy once said Alex pays a shitload of money for Asher’s education, but that’s it.

  It’s sad he thinks his relationship with his son is all about money. It also scared me to think perhaps my relationship with my father wasn’t any different.

  “Can you come to my office?” Alex asks me.

  I throw a glance at Asher in question, but he’s clenching his fists and looking away.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Detective Daniels is back.” He grinds his molars. “This time, he has a warrant.”

  The atmosphere in Alex’s office couldn’t be any more suffocating.

  There’s this smell in the air, something potent and thick. It’s not the scent of the coffee in front of the detective or the scotch at the minibar.

  I sit on the sofa opposite Detective Daniels, my hands resting on my knees and my pulse skyrocketing.

  It doesn’t help that Asher decided to join us. It’s the first time I’ve seen him come into his father’s office of his own accord.

  Letting my hair camouflage my gaze, I peek at him from under my lashes. He’s still in his shorts from the workout and just threw on a T-shirt. Usually, he’d be watching me back, but he’s not now.

  His entire attention is on the detective, as if he has a feud with him.

  “What do you want from Reina, detective?” Alex asks from his position beside me with an edge of authority.

  I can feel the detective’s gaze on me as he speaks. “We have a warrant to bring Miss Ellis in for questioning.”

  “And what are the charges?” Alex presses.

  “We found her bracelet at the fire site.”

  “As I said before,
that’s only circumstantial evidence that won’t hold up in court—”

  Detective Daniels cuts Alex off. “We also have her DNA.”

  Blood drains from my face, and my head snaps upright. The first thing I see is Asher’s poker face.

  His unreadable expression doesn’t necessarily mean something good. I’m starting to think he’s the type who straps his emotions tight behind a controlled mask.

  No. I want to tell him. I didn’t do anything.

  “If you please, Miss Ellis,” the detective says, “come with us to the station for some questions.”

  “Absolutely not.” Alex stands. “Bring an arrest warrant for that.”

  “You’re only making it harder for her.” The detective meets my gaze, harsh and judgmental. He already thinks I had a hand in whatever happened at that cottage, and nothing will change his mind. “If you confess, we’ll think about reducing the charges.”

  “I…I…” Words lodge in my throat like tiny needles, prickling the skin.

  “Don’t answer that, Reina.” Alex walks to the door and opens it. “The voluntary questioning is over, detective.”

  Daniels stands up and slaps his notepad against his thigh. His eyes meet mine and a shudder slides down my spine. “Kids like you are a cancer to society and should be put down.”

  “That’s enough, detective.” Alex ushers him out. “Leave. Now.”

  Tears blur my vision as I ball my fists in my lap. No matter how much I want to ignore his last words, I just can’t.

  What if…what if I really did something?

  Old Reina was bad enough to hurt people, but she wasn’t a criminal, right?

  Once the detective leaves, Alex faces me with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. He has nothing that will pull you down.”

  “But…” I gulp. “He said they found my DNA.”

  “But they still have no victim or suspect profile yet. He’s trying to intimidate you. Do not fall for his tactics. Okay?”

  I nod slowly.

  “You go rest, Reina.”

  I’m on autopilot as I stand up and exit his office. I don’t stop to see the way Asher watches me. I don’t want to witness the cruelty in his face or that ‘See? You’re a monster’ look.

  My legs barely carry me, and my shoulders hunch as if a weight is pulling them down.

  The moment I arrive at my room, I sit on the edge of the bed, my unsteady leg unable to carry me anymore.

  My heart flips and thumps in my chest so hard it’s impossible to hear anything else. Pressure builds behind my eyes and my nose tingles with unshed tears.

  God…what have I done?

  I lift my head, and my blurry gaze collides with Asher’s.

  What…?

  Did he follow me out of his father’s office?

  The need to stand up and hug him burns inside me, and I can’t think of anything past that.

  I don’t know when he became this important, but he…did.

  This is some sort of syndrome. It must’ve started after he saved my life.

  He stalks toward me until he’s standing above me. I look up, no idea what he sees on my face—sadness, chaos, or something else. I just hope he sees how lost I am right now.

  How much I need him to not dig the knife in deeper.

  He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with a trembling voice.

  “Stop.”

  If he slices me with his words right now, I’ll just bleed to death.

  His hand wraps around my throat. It’s tight, as if he wants to suffocate the life out of me.

  My lungs burn with the need for air.

  My nails claw at his hands, trying to shake him off, to get some oxygen into my lungs.

  “You don’t deserve the life you’ve been given.” He’s angry—no, he’s enraged, but strangely, it doesn’t feel directed at me. It seems to be more about him.

  “Ash…ugh…” No more words come out.

  He’s stealing my breath and my air supply.

  “Give back what you owe,” he snarls in my face.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen him so furious.

  So manic.

  So out of control.

  He’s shed his deadly calm exterior and is coming at me full force.

  Tears stream down my cheeks, into my mouth, and onto his hands until all I taste is salt. I couldn’t stop them even if I wanted to, because not only am I crying for myself, I’m crying for everyone whose life I made hell in the past.

  Asher is one of them.

  He’s just one of them.

  Second chance? I don’t deserve that. People who are monsters like me simply don’t deserve it.

  “Fuck!” He jerks away from me as if he’s been burned. “Stop crying.”

  A sob tears from my throat as I catch my breath, sucking as much air as possible into my starved lungs.

  His fingers find my cheek and he wipes the tears away, a pained expression covering his face. “Why are you crying? Do you think you’re a victim?”

  I shake my head frantically. “I’m crying because I recognize I’ve been the villain all along.”

  His expression tightens and so does his jaw. “Why do you keep saying shit like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you care. Like you feel.”

  “I do feel. So much, it’s suffocating.”

  Something inside unlocks. A deep longing for him, his forgiveness, and his…everything.

  I might not be able to fix all I’ve done in the past, but I don’t want Asher mad at me. He’s been mad for so long.

  I hurt him for so long, and I want to fix that.

  His T-shirt sticks to his stiff chest and shoulder muscles like a second skin. I want to relieve that stiffness.

  To loosen him up.

  I don’t allow myself to think twice as I fall to my knees in front of him. I taste his sandalwood scent on my tongue and feel it seep into every pore of my skin.

  With a deep breath, I reach for the band of his shorts.

  He grabs both my wrists in one of his hands. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  I stare up at him with pleading eyes. “Let me.”

  His grip tightens around my wrists as he watches me with narrowed eyes.

  “You’re on your knees,” he says with some sort of awe.

  While he’s still in his contemplative mode, watching me intently, I release my hand from his and pull down on his shorts.

  My breath catches in my throat.

  Oh, God.

  He’s gone commando, and he’s already semi-hard.

  A tingle crawls down my spine and to my core.

  In all honesty, I don’t remember how to do this, but I’m hoping my memory will kick in like with my studies and jumping.

  I let the shorts fall around his ankles and grip the base of his cock.

  A grunt spills from the back of his throat, and I love how his dick jumps to attention at my mere touch.

  I affect him as much as he affects me.

  Scooting closer, I raise myself up as I give him one long stroke from top to bottom. He doesn’t even make an attempt to hide his groan this time.

  “Fuck, Reina.” His hooded eyes focus down on me.

  My heart is on my sleeve as I give him a tentative smile and lick the pre-cum dripping from the crown.

  He’s throbbing and veiny. I want all of that. I want all of him.

  I want him to take me and devour me, but first, I want him to loosen up. I want to change this fucked-up relationship.

  If it doesn’t change, we’ll always be stuck in the middle of nowhere.

  I lick him one more time and relish his low groan. The sound is so masculine and rough, it tightens my stomach.

  With one last lick, I take him in my mouth, all the way inside.

  “Fuuuck.” His fingers thread into my hair, and my eyes close, enjoying the feel of him in my mouth.

  Even though I don’t remember doing this, apparently I have a knack for it. I
don’t have to think before I lick the side of his cock. Then I suck on the crown, lapping my tongue over the tip until I taste his pre-cum.

  His hips thrust forward and his dick hits the back of my throat. My gag reflex kicks in and I choke on him. Instead of pulling out, Asher keeps it right there. My eyes snap open and I place both hands on his thighs, trying to push him away.

  I can’t breathe.

  I can’t freaking breathe.

  The look on Asher’s face is one of pure contempt. It’s like he’s planning to choke me to death.

  “Did you think you could manipulate me with this?”

  I shake my head frantically. The lack of air and the pressure cause tears to blur my vision.

  But he’s not letting me go.

  “That’s what you do best, don’t you, Reina? You think you can drag me into your web and finish me?”

  I shake my head, feeling dizzy and on the verge of fainting.

  He pulls back. I cough and sputter, clutching the floor for balance. Drool forms on the side of my face and my chin.

  I wheeze for breath like a dying woman with one last wish, like someone who doesn’t have anything left.

  He wraps my hair around his fist, yanking me up, and I stumble to my feet. I expect him to leave, but he carries me in his strong arms and lays me on the bed on my side.

  “W-what?” I ask, confused. My mouth feels dry and empty without his cock.

  He kicks his shorts off, tears his T-shirt over his head, and removes his shoes so he’s naked.

  Fully, absolutely naked.

  I stare at his defined abs and a little scar below his ribs. Such a small imperfection makes him even more perfect. The tendrils of his tattoos ripple over his right shoulder and bicep. In the middle of tendrils, there seems to be a sentence in a foreign font. Is that Arabic?

  My fingers twitch, yearning to touch those tattoos and ask him what they mean, but before I can think about that, he’s on top of me.

  His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls my shorts and panties down in one brutal go.

  I gasp, the sensation lighting my skin on fire.

  No, it’s not fire. It’s like the air is only filled with him and his presence.

  After I woke up in the hospital that day, I struggled with the feeling of belonging and having something—or someone—completely belong to me.

  Now, I admit to wanting Asher to be that someone. I want him to belong to me. Talk to me. Touch me.