Page 17 of The Lies We Believe

A look flashed across his face that I couldn’t decipher before he nodded, accepting my response. Opening his door, I gestured for him to go in first and shuffled in behind him, plopping the blankets down on the bed.

“The sheets on the bed are clean, but as you can see, it’s not much.” I opened the door to the bathroom and explained what was in there, and pointed out the closet and how to work the TV. “I know it’s not much. You deserve so much more.” My words caught in my throat, emotion threatening to drown me as the memory of him explaining how he’d been living came forward. Here was me saying a room of his own with a queen bed and hot running water wasn’t much when it was a million miles away from what he’d had.

My eyes flew open when River’s cool fingers wrapped around my wrist, a watery smile on his face, and his deep green forest eyes glassy. Releasing my arm, he passed me the notepad.

This means more than I can even say.

“It’s the least I could do, Riv.” I wanted to say so much more—about how I wanted to take care of him and show him how much he deserved to be happy, but a yawn split his face. “Do you want to come back downstairs while I make some calls, or do you want to watch TV and chill?”

Rivers’ eyes ping-ponged all over the room before settling on the bed. He ran his hand over the fitted cotton sheet and pulled the pillow into his chest, squeezing it. A vise tightened around my chest at the small childlike gesture. He climbed onto the bed, piled up the pillows in the middle, and pulled the blankets up to his chest.

“Here.” That seemed to be my favorite word at the moment. I passed him the remote, sitting on the edge of the bed as I walked him through how to work the old TV. After explaining Netflix and Prime, I closed the blind and ran downstairs to grab him a bottle of water.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” River regarded me with heavy-lidded eyes and nodded. The TV drew his attention away from me as he surfed through the offerings on Netflix, slowly sinking deeper under his pile of blankets. I slipped from the room unnoticed.

CHAPTER 8

RIVER

Ijolted awake to the sound of a husky feminine laugh echoing through the quiet house. I pushed the lingering effects of sleep away, scrubbing a hand down my face. The door to my room was closed, not open like I remembered. The floor was now littered with several bags and packages. Stretching out the tight muscles in my back, I rolled my shoulders and cracked out the kink in my neck.

Cool stale air of what was now my room hit me as I kicked off the blankets, making me shudder. The chilly wooden floor was a shock to the system as I shuffled my way across to the bags someone had left while I was sleeping. The TV was playing something I have no recollection of selecting. The actor with dark messy hair was hot, but his icy blue eyes made me think of other more perfect blue-brown orbs that called to a part of me I’d locked away in fantasies.

The sheer amount of bags and boxes took my breath away. I didn’t remember ordering this much stuff. But as I carried them over to the bed, I realized I hadn’t. One small parcel caught my eye. It was the size of a small book, wrapped in black paper with a rainbow-colored bow. I set it aside for later, even though I was itching to know what was inside. Rifling through the bags, Ipulled out the pants and tops I’d ordered, along with the bedding and scent-free toiletries, but that still left a number of bags that must have been brought up here by mistake.

My jaw clenched tight enough to crack my teeth when that husky laugh reached my ears again. I wanted to slam the door shut and hide away, overwhelmed by the feelings that surged inside of me. I wanted to storm down there and lay my claim on the only person who’d ever made me feel anything other than apathy for myself.

He was mine, goddamn it.Mine.

But he wasn’t, not really. Nothing ever was. Shaking my head, I pushed those possessive thoughts away because what right did I have to them when all Bane had shown me was kindness? And platonic kindness at that.

I tried on the clothes I’d ordered to make sure they fit, which they did, even if they were a little loose. But they were clean and new and mine. It was strange having more than two outfits and somewhere to put them that was bigger than a single moldy drawer. I didn’t really know what to put where, so I settled on pants and underwear in the drawers below the TV and shirts in the closet.

The bathroom was as intimidating as it was gorgeous. Clean marble tiles sparkled in the bright light, while a large vanity set under an unbroken mirror dominated one wall. I stuffed the towel and toiletries I didn’t immediately need into one of its drawers. The tub wasn’t cracked or lined with mold and was actually big enough for me to soak in. I’d never learned to swim, but I wondered what it would be like to float in it, my body completely suspended. It was like a dream, or maybe I was in an episode of The Twilight Zone—I couldn’t decide which. But it made that empty cavity inside me feel less hollow, and that was a dangerous, dangerous thing, because it made me ache for things that could never be real.

This isn’t permanent. You’re not wanted here, I reminded myself, hating reality as much as I clung to it. I was here because I was useful, not because Bane wanted or cared for me. I was helping with the case. That’s why he needed me, why he was keeping me close. Once they had what they wanted, knew everything I knew—which, to be honest, wasn’t a lot—they’d send me on my way without a backward glance. There was no point in allowing any of these delusional thoughts or feelings running rampant through me to take root.

The shiny tap turned with ease, no pipes clanking or groaning, just clear fresh water spilling from the faucet. I splashed my face with cold water, washing away the beads of sweat that had covered my skin and breathed deeply, clutching the edges of the counter until my knuckles turned white. “You’ve got this,” I mouthed. My reflection looked back at me, one I tried to ignore for years because I didn’t know the person who stared back at me.

My skin was pale, and dark shadows bloomed under my empty flat eyes. I was skinny, gaunt, and underdeveloped for my age. I might have looked like a tired eighteen-year-old, but my eyes whispered secrets of the horrors I’d endured like they were etched into the flecks of green. My dark black hair was a matted riot, with wayward strands stuck across my forehead. I ran my fingers through the wilderness on my head and slicked it back before pulling the hood of my top over my head, feeling the white walls closing in around me. I needed to get out of this perfect space that was the opposite of everything I was before I tainted it.

My feet slipped into the black boots I’d found. The distressed leather comforted me, reminding me that even new things weren’t perfect. I grabbed the bags that didn’t belong to me, ignoring the box wrapped in black paper on the bed, andheaded downstairs. My senses were heightened after a lifetime of waiting for someone to jump me any second.

“How’s it going?” The husky voice was low, but I heard it clearly. “It can’t be easy on you or him.” My teeth clenched, biting down on my tongue until I tasted blood.

“It’ll take time for him to trust me, Montoya.” Bane sighed. I slipped down the hallway on silent feet and flattened my back against the wall. She perched on a stool and leaned across the counter, her hand resting on his forearm. It was a tender gesture, intimate in a way I hated. “It’s not like I can make him tell me anything.” Bane winced and dug the heel of his hand into his eyes. “Or that one night’s sleep will change everything he’s been through.”

My heart panged as his voice broke and pain tightened his eyes. I’d told Bane the bare minimum back at the station. I’d answered his question, yes, but in the simplest way. If he had an inkling of what I had been through, it would kill him. And I never wanted him to hurt because of me. He was too good, too damn pure for someone like me.

“I know. Trust me, I know, but what he knows could crack this wide open.” Montoya leaned forward, ass rising from the stool as she pushed into his personal space. Bane’s breath caught in his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. My hands clenched involuntarily, the paper bags crunching loudly as emotions raged inside me, making it feel like I was splintering to pieces.

“That’s… he’s not. Not just… Fuck! I know, but…”

I couldn’t listen to this anymore, to be reminded no one really wanted me here. I stormed into the kitchen and dumped the bags on the counter next to the Latina beauty with her thick, glossy black hair in a messy bun on the top of her pretty little head.

“Hey there, cutie.” Montoya smiled softly at me and sat back in her seat. I met her deep amber eyes with a glare and turned to Bane, pointing at the bags.

He looked slightly dazed as he leaned across the counter, his eyes running over my body in my new—thanks to him—clothes. A small smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. “They look good. Sleep well?”

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