Page 10 of Scorching Lies

“Hmmm, look at that.”

Using his free hand, he traces the space between the back of my knee and thigh on my left leg Brushing his fingers over the jagged skin and scars that spread down, down, down. I tear my eyes from his hand, from the reminder of what happened. The tips of his fingers drag my eyes to his, but what I see isn’t what I expected. I expected horror and disgust to stare back at me. I’m caught off guard when I see pure, raw hatred shining back at me.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones who carry that night around with them. Mine comes with the last name of the person we lost, but you? You, killjoy, carry the mark of a fucking murderer.”

He twists me until I’m no longer sideways on the door, instead my back is pressed into the handles, forcing a grimace on my face. Sliding his grip from my face to my throat, he drags me up with no effort. My toes scrape the ground and my heart is punching out of my chest. My hands grip around his, clawing at his skin as my breathing becomes ragged.

Leaning closer his nose brushes mine, lips millimeters away, his words hit somewhere buried deep in my soul. A place I refused to go.

“You were his princess. Our fucking ride or die.” His tongue slips out to wet his lips. “It’ll taste so sweet when I’m the one who gets to set you on fire.”

“I didn’t-”

Slamming his mouth down on mine, he bites my bottom lip, yanking it so hard my scream shoots out of me. By now my mouth is filled with cuts, each one caused by the viper striking his prey, taking and taking until there’s nothing left. Kissing me, biting me, stealing my air. My legs shake, fear turning and twisting into need and I fucking hate myself for it. My mind battles my body in a war of will. He pulls away from the kiss just as quickly.

“I don’t want to hear your lies. Because that’s all they are. Fuckinglies. You wear the mask well, but when I’m done with you, there’ll be nothing left but a shell. A corpse. Ashes. You are nothing to us. You don’t belong here anymore princess and it’s time you learn your place.”

He leans down, grazing his lips up the length of my neck. Goosebumps prickle my flesh from his touch. I hate that he makes me feel like this. Loathe the fact he causes me to have a reaction at all. A grunt is pulled from his throat, waves of vibration replacing his touch.

“I can’t wait to fuck you. It’ll be the last thing you remember when I destroy you. My dick buried so far in your wet cunt that it’s the only feeling you have left before I snuff the life out of you.”

His tongue flattens against my skin, sweat starts to bead and my legs shake from his words. The worst part? Battling my inner demons at the thought of him inside me. My core clenches with images of him over me, fucking me, choking me, dragging my body close, only to lose everything. Because I will lose everything after he leaves me for dead.

“That’s it baby, you can’t wait to feel me sinking into you. Taking everything from you.”

“Fuck you.” I spit between clenched teeth.

Tisking, dark eyes peer at me through long lashes.

“Don’t let me see these again.” Fingers drag across my leg.

Tears build, but I hold them back refusing to let them spill.

Releasing me, I’m finally able to pull in a deep breath. My hands fall to my knees, my body sagging.

“Next time I catch you out after dark walking around dressed like that, I’ll make sure your knees are bruised for weeks.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, his footsteps drift until all I hear is my heart pounding in my chest. Anger, hurt, disgust, they all warwithin me, beating against my ribs. Yet still I hold the tears. I don’t let them fall, not while I’m walking into the building. They don’t fall when I step into the small metal elevator, or even when my hand closes around the small silver doorknob to my dorm. Inhaling a large breath, the door swings open to our dimly lit living room, Ally long gone to bed.

Still the tears don’t fall. Passing the sectional couch pressed along the far wall, I step past the end tables filled with family photos from Ally. I walk by the kitchen with marble counters and stainless steel appliances and pass by the bathroom with Ally’s night time skin care scattered over the counter. Yet the tears hold. I finally reach my bedroom door and fling it open, revealing my partly made bed and last nights pajamas littering the floor. Not attempting to shower or change, I decide that stripping off my hoodie and sleeping in a sports bra and shorts is fine, as long as I don’t have to move, I climb into bed and burrow under the blankets.

Memories of hide and seek, family BBQ’s, shared Fathers Days, and so many other family events flash behind my eyelids. The dam breaks. Finally fucking breaks causing a tsunami of to wreck through my body.

It’s always the silent cries that hurt the worst, that drain everything from you, the silent pain that you carry on your shoulders because you have no one else to give it to. When you lose someone, someone so close to you that it’s like losing a limb. There is no healing that pain. So I cry. I scream into my pillows. The unknown of why this happened fades into anger. The questions drift into demands. And all it really leaves me with is a cold resolve that if I can’t remember what really happened then I’ll ask the one other person left alive that does.

Tonight I don’t dream of fires and screams. I don’t see flames and bodies. My skin isn’t melting from the heat. There is no deep voice of soft words and kindness. No. I see the boys from my childhood playing tag and letting me win. Cole rushing to me with flowers freshly snatched from his mom’s garden. My memories drag West from the bushes scaring us so bad I cry, but not for long. No, Ryker comes from around the back of the house when he hears me, only to stop when he sees his brothers are already calming me.

Standing off to the side watching us. Watching me. Heated stares comfort me into a deep sleep and I don’t stop feeling them even when I wake up to my phone alarm the next morning.

CHAPTER SIX

KENNA

Migraines are the bane of my existence. Waking up with one after a night of no nightmares? Ironic. Even when I’m awake my brain has to fuck with me. Groaning, I roll off my bed, my energy already drained before my feet even hits the floor. This calls for hot coffee and my favorite oversized navy blue sweater. It’s my comfort item. My eyes adjust to the dim light in my room, thank fuck for blackout curtains. I end up tossing on the sweatshirt over my sports bra opting out of an actual shirt and pairing it with loose fitted joggers.

Ignoring the rumble coming from my stomach I head to my door, but pause when I hear a deep baritone coming from the living room. Only pausing for a nanosecond I swing the door open and head for the kitchen, my eyes squinting from the bright light assaulting my eyes, but my steps falter when I spot Ally from the corner of my eye.

Who the hell…

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