Page 3 of Spiteful Lies

He releases me, and I wish I had kept my mouth shut. I want Wyatt to hold me again so I can sink into his touch and wish the world would leave us alone. Gently, I take his hand and place it on my cheek again. His gaze locks on mine as he leans his head toward me. His lips fall against mine as I thread my hands through his hair.

I want him, and looking into his deep brown eyes makes my body tingle. Wyatt presses against me as our tongues touch, then swirl. The cold is off my skin as he heats me up. Leaning backward, I hold him tight, taking him flat down to the ground on top of me.

He slips his hips between my legs, and I open them wider, grinding against him and teasing the growing bulge in his pants. Oblivious to the cold, we make out behind the rock, and I have to be crazy. I’m in enough trouble from taking too many necessary risks, but I can’t resist Wyatt as my hands grip his coat. My fingers flex against the fabric as I pull his hard muscles against my chest. I picture the phoenix rising on his back and moan into his greedy mouth, pushing against my open lips.

“I always thought you liked him better,” a voice above us announces in the quiet.

We leap apart abruptly to see Pierce sitting on top of the boulder in full view of anyone who wants to look over. Laughing, he slides down the boulder. The hems of his jeans ride up, and he has on no socks, just boat shoes. That only confirms he’s a cold-hearted son of a bitch, but I still like him anyway.

“What? Are you spying on us? What is up with you?” Wyatt demands, adjusting himself in his jeans.

Pierce stares hard at Wyatt’s bulge tenting his jeans and then laughs. “I could hear your heavy panting over the crowd forming. So, does getting caught make you hard, or do cop cars do the trick?”

Wyatt scoffs, then peers over the boulder at a fucking mob scene. I run around it to gape. People are milling about a short distance from the cops, watching as a security guard unlocks the front door of Oberlin.

Openly curious students in small groups circle around the front of the building, and it looks like we didn’t have to hide. Pierce climbs back on the boulder then offers me a hand up. I take it, sitting beside him while a scowling, quiet Wyatt sits beside Pierce.

“I saw the cop cars from my dorm window,” explains Pierce, “No one drives along the path unless it’s an emergency.”

“Where’s Rawlins?” I ask.

Pierce scoffs as we watch the police enter the building. “Rawlins is probably speeding here in her Mercedes and breaking every law along the way. If she had known, she’d be here already to stop them.”

“Don’t they need a warrant?” I ask, and they both look at me as if I’m lightheaded.

A man in a dark coat gets out of the unmarked car. He’s taller and darker than the people surrounding him, with a scruffy beard and short gray hair. His fit body doesn’t look old, but I doubt he’s the type to dye his hair gray. His eyes concealed behind dark glasses, the cop scans the view in front of him.

For a moment, his gaze rests on the three of us, and my body stiffens as if my bones are turned to steel. Wyatt’s hand gently touches mine, and my shoulders relax again. Losing interest in the spectators, the man turns around and enters the building.

“Who the fuck was that?” I whisper.

“Not anyone we need to mess with,” answers Wyatt, “We don’t know him, and we need to make sure it stays that way.”

Minutes pass as nothing happens. Or at least nothing we can see. I try to ask about the computer, to find out if Pierce wiped it clean. But the boys shush me quickly.

“Voices carry,” whisper Wyatt. And in silence, we continue to watch Oberlin as a cop stands in front of the open door.

Students are now milling about with coffee in takeout cups, and their laughter drifts across the campus. Only someone with nothing to hide would make a joke right now. I glance at Pierce and then Wyatt with their cold, stone-serious expressions. We need to relax because we all look guilty as fuck.

No sooner do I wish I had a coffee to keep my hands warm, Rawlins appears.

Chapter 3

Astrid

She swoops onto the path dressed in a long wool coat and jeans. Rawlins owns a pair? Her hair is in a pony, and she has on no makeup. She looks younger and less stern though she’s scowling like the devil on a mission to collect souls. God save your ass if you’re stupid enough to be in her way. A freshman girl squeals and leaps off the path toward safety as Rawlins races past her toward the open door. She’s about to enter when the cop steps directly in front of her path.

“Out of my way.” Her voice carries across the campus, and every nasty word spoken is clear. “Do it now, dammit, or you’ll be on traffic duty, crossing preschoolers through a crosswalk.”

The cop is a young guy and doesn’t look amused at being threatened by a Karen dressed like a soccer mom. He folds his arms over his chest, and his mouth disappears into a tight thin line. With a blank look, he’s daring Rawlins to say another word.

Pierce chuckles. “A friendly wager, Wyatt? Rawlins wins, and I get to make out with Astrid instead. And you go back to your dorm and jerk off alone.”

“Hey,” I reply with no patience, “I’m not a prize at a county fair, you fuckers.”

Wyatt chuckles while his eyes stay on Rawlins and the cop. “Deal. Rawlins loses, but you don’t get to watch us make out, or me yank off, you perv. I’m not your wank bud.”

They tap fists in front of my face as if I’m not sitting right there. Is this what happens when I’m not around? Do they make a schedule to see who has me next? I don’t like it, this feeling of being passed around. I’m not using them, so why should they use me? It’s because I’m letting them. I swear to myself. I’m about to leap off the boulder and give them both the finger when Rawlins starts shouting again.

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