Page 33 of Scorching Lies

Stepping into the ring I pull my shirt off tossing it to G with a wink. Flipping me the bird, he makes a show of dropping it to the ground. If it were anyone else I’d knock him in the teeth, but G is my boy. Always has been. A brother in his own right. His blue eyes glow with humor, his snake tattoo curling around his neck, the brand of our family. He’s just as big as me, built by years of running things for us, and lean from years in the ring with me. West may be the pretty boy, but G has a swag about him that draws in all the barbies.

Shaking my head I lift my arms to hype up the crowd. It’s really for me giving myself a chance to scan each and every face. It doesn’t take long until my eyes laser in on our target. “My turn?” A voice says from behind me.

Turning slowly to give off a show of indifference my stare connects with dark blue ones.

“Why not.” I say.

With a smirk he turns to look at the two men standing just behind him. A girl with striking blue hair is wrapped under their arms, but it’s the look on her face that has me stepping back a step. Most would think they were protecting her, but they’d be wrong. That one is a Savage.

“Stryker Lawless.” I announce to the crowd.

“The one and only.” He laughs before lunging forward.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

KENNA

Sore. That’s the first thought that registers when my eyes open the next morning. My thighs, my core, my fucking wrist, even my throat hurts. I don’t need to look in the mirror to know that I’ll need makeup to cover fingerprints on my neck. Sitting up, a gasp falls from my lips. A sea of orange covers my room, the smell of Lilies entering my senses. Ryker fucking Stone filled my room with Lilies from the garden. The sudden reminder of what we did causes memories to flash through my mind. Mixing the garden and last night together in one big confusing mess. What is he trying to pull?

Throwing the blanket off me, I stand, my foot stepping on something smooth and soft. My gaze drops to the floor, my breath hitching, seeing an array of lilies. Even after everything he’s done to me I still find myself fighting a smile. Beautiful orange and black lilies are littered on the floor. A massive bouquet sits in the center of my dresser. I don’t stop the slow smile that spreads across my face.

Ryker has a way of crawling his way inside me. Bending down I pluck one of the flowers off the floor. My heart stutters inmy chest when I allow myself to inhale the intoxicating scent. I’m riding a high, or I was, until I saw what was sitting in the center of the bouquet on my dresser. What the actual fuck? In the middle is a single black lily from the garden, but wrapped around it is a snake ring. That’s not what has my stomach curling. No, it’s the large middle finger that rests on the tip , not able to slide down fully, that has my empty stomach filling with acid. Ryker left me a severed finger, my guess is it’s from the bar guy, and has it sitting in the ocean of flowers that fill my room.

“He left me a fucking warning wrapped in a pretty little bow of memories.” I say, talking to myself like I’ve gone insane.

Hell, I might have with the thoughts I was having right before this. If I thought I could outsmart Ryker before I’m rethinking that now. Heading to the bathroom to grab something to clean up his little gift, I got an idea… It’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine, but not before a nice hot shower and a road trip. Rykers visit last night finally opened my eyes to what I need to do, it’s time I stop hiding behind the school. Today, I’m going to get answers from the man who started this all. My dad.

An hour later I’m pulling into the empty parking lot, my radio blaringNightmareby Halsey. Shifting into park, I swing down my visor. Bright gray eyes take in my reflection, makeup covers the bruises surrounding my neck, my lips still a little swollen from being wrapped around him. I open my center console, my fingers fumble around until they finally grasp the small black tube from where it slipped to the bottom. Looking back to the mirror I thumb off the top and apply the deep red lipstick with a shallow smile.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Pumping myself up to actually go inside, my shoulders roll with tension, the tink from my tube of lipstick falling back into the console compartment is lost to the music. Rubbing my lips together I snap the visor closed and toss my phone into my purse and slide it under my passenger seat. Looking back up, I spot a large black SUV driving past the entrance to the parking lot. Blinking past the sun in my eyes, I squint to see if it’s the Stone brothers, but it’s gone far too fucking fast. Shaking my head, my eyes go to my rearview mirror to check behind me, but when all I see is the empty parking lot I roll my eyes at myself.

Keys and wallet in hand I step out into the hot sun. My car sits in the center of the lot with only a few others, more come in slowly now that the somber gray and tan building is open. Walking towards the tall fence that wraps around the entire property, lined with barbed wire at the top. Contrary to what people assume, the main fences in the front don’t have barbed wire. It’s not every day that someone attempts to climb in or out of this place.

Making my way to the door with two tall sliding glass doors, my black and white Nike shoes squeak across the just mopped tile, opening into a small entryway. Straight ahead is a square office glassed into the center of the hallway, an entrance and exit on each side. Both have metal detectors for you to walk through. Hanging on the wall is a sign with big bold letters that reads,

Rule number one: No phones or outside items.

Rule number two: No touching.

Stepping up to the booth a large burly man stands from his seat, bending to see through the glass slot. Not that my five-foot nine frame is small, but that’s just how fucking huge this man is.

“Visiting or picking up?” He asks.

Pick up? This isn’t a daycare and I sure as hell won’t be taking one of these fuckers home. Huffing out a short laugh, I look up to meet the man's stare.

“Visiting.”

through a small slot, he slides a clipboard with a sign in sheet connected to it. He nods to it and asks for my I.D. Signing Kenna Kingston in the rectangle area, my eyes stop on a name that triggers a memory from my childhood. Hank Harlow. It shows that he was here earlier today. My brows dip in confusion, but my attention snaps back to the man, with my I.D. He slides it back through, while taking the clipboard and giving it a once over.

“Step through. Clear your pockets and meet the guard on the other side. Have a nice visit.” He eyes me on my way to the tall metal detector.

Standing just on the other side, is a short stocky woman, ebony curls stray free from her low bun and freckles splatter across her face. A bored expression is plastered on her face while she waits for me to step through. Pulling my wallet and keys from my pocket, I toss them in the clear container sitting on a long white table beside the larger machine. She hulk grabs the container, sliding it from one side to the other while I slowly walk through, my gaze straight ahead.

“Ms.?” Her voice is throaty with a smoker's rasp.

“Kingston.” I give her my last name only.

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