Page 19 of The Lies We Believe

“Oh fuck. Shit! Did I? Was it me?” Colton’s frantic voice sounded like it came from the other end of a really long, echoey tunnel. I tried to breathe, but there was a weight on my chest that made it impossible.

“No. No, just step back slowly, okay? Give him some space.” Bane sounded calm and controlled, but still so far away. I wanted to reach out for him and anchor myself to him, but I couldn’t move. “Hey, Riv? It’s just me, okay? Colton’s gone. I’mgoing to bring you back to the house where it’s safe. Where you’re safe. I’m sorry I didn’t come out sooner,” he whispered against the shell of my ear as his arms scooped me up and pulled me into his chest.

His heart beat frantically like an echo of mine as he held me tightly against him like I was something precious. Twigs and leaves crunched under his feet, but that soon gave way to the squelch of the lawn as we headed back to the house. “Can you pull your hood over your face? The rain has picked up since you’ve been out here, and I don’t want you to drown.” He snorted at what he said. “I mean, I won’t let you drown, but I don’t have a jacket on or anything to cover you with, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

I nodded stiffly against his muscled chest and pulled my hood down as I buried my face into his well-developed pectorals. His usual cedarwood and leather scent entwined with fresh rain and damp wood. It reminded me of the past, of hiding in the trees when we played hide and seek. Unlike the other kids at Mrs. Wilkinson’s, Bane and I didn’t need to talk. He accepted me as I was and didn’t try to change me or call me names because I preferred not to talk. It took over a year before I started talking to him back then. Little did I know he’d give me the most amazing year of my life.

The sliding door slammed shut behind us. Bane had somehow opened and closed it without dropping me. The man had muscles carved from adamantium; his hold on me unwavering. His shoes smacked into the wall as he kicked them off before carrying me back to the room he claimed was mine.

“Stay here,” he muttered as he set me down on the edge of the bed. The warmth of the house caused a violent shiver to roll through me as the cold fabric of my hoodie clung to me. I sat there, teeth chattering, as he headed into the en suite. Bane hummed softly as he turned on the taps for the tub. “I got yousome bath salts and stuff to help you relax.” I dipped my head like he could see me and wrapped my arms around myself.

My eyes caught on the black wrapped box with the rainbow bow. It was the most colorful thing in this room and seemed to glitter under the glow of the lamplight. My fingers itched to touch it. I’d always been inquisitive, but I wasn’t that naïve child anymore. I’d learned long ago not to touch things that didn’t belong to me.

“Open it.” I jumped when Bane’s voice came from beside me. My gaze shot to his, but it was his body that stole my breath. Water droplets slid down his temples, looking like diamond fractals as they caught on the thick five o’clock shadow on his jaw. I licked my lips as my eyes dropped lower to where the wet fabric of his tee clung to the defined muscles of his shoulders and pecs. His nipples were hard buds, fighting against the fabric suctioned to them. I could count each and every one of his eight abs, the ridges and grooves in high definition. I wanted to touch him in a way I’d never wanted to touch another person.

It was a mindfuck to want someone with the latent raw power to destroy me. Bane was dangerous in more ways than one. Physically, he could overpower me with one hand, but emotionally, he could devastate me. I’d never survive him. The air thickened, and the temperature seemed to rise until it felt almost impossible to breathe as we remained focused on each other, not saying a word. His chest rose and fell with heavy labored inhales that matched the ones I forced in and out of my nose. His scent was heavy, enticing, and I could taste it on my tongue.

“River.” Bane’s gravelly voice was like a physical caress that started at my toes and flushed me with heat all the way to my fingertips. My tongue darted out and wet my lip, his hypnotizing eyes tracking the movement. Bane moved forward, completely unaware of his body’s actions until he was crouched down rightin front of me. He raised my chin with two fingers. “River.” I shuddered and my eyes fluttered closed as his minty breath ghosted over mine. “Open your gift.”

When he stepped back, it felt like I’d been thrown in a vat of ice. Goosebumps prickled across my skin. Bane cleared his throat, pulled my hand out so it was facing palm up, and placed the black present on it.

“Open it while I check on your bath.”

I weighed it, trying to work out what it was. It took me a second to realize my hand was shaking, and my heart was working its way up my throat. I swallowed it down, steeling myself as I pulled on the shimmering rainbow bow and carefully pulled the tape off. I was left staring at a white box that said iPhone 16 on it.

“Do you like it?” Bane asked softly as he knelt in front of me once again and carefully took the box from my hand and opened it. He pulled out a beautiful teal phone and flipped it over in his grasp so I could see the front and back. “I’ve added my number and desk direct line to it.” I blinked up at him through water logged eyes. “I thought it would be easier for you than writing all the time. It also means you can reach me when I have to head back to the station.”

There you go. What more proof did you need? He’s going to leave you. Just like everyone does.

CHAPTER 9

BANE

I’d always been conscious of my size. Being six foot five, broad shouldered, and covered in tattoos, I cut a rather intimidating form that saw more than one person cross the street on a dark night. Not to mention the color of my skin or the fact I had one blue eye and one nearly almost black—all things that made me uniquely me also cemented me as something different from what people conventionally accepted as normal. I’d always made it a priority to not take up too much room, to not be too outspoken, and to keep my temper under control at all times.

It’d been two days since I’d run into the yard in a blind panic because a storm was drawing in, and River had disappeared into the woods my house backed onto and hadn’t returned after two hours. I couldn’t help but feel like my carefully crafted control was slipping through my fingers. I was slowly unraveling, stuck pacing my living room, held captive by the boy who refused to leave his room.

Every inch of my house sparkled. It was never messy; everything was always in its place, but every surface that could shine did. I’d even given my bike a spit and polish. The stylishblack and chrome bodywork gleamed more than it did the day I bought it.

My shoes squeaked on the floor as I paced in front of the fireplace, trying to work out how to bridge the crater that separated River and me. I had thought that even though we’d just found each other again, that our shared past was enough to build from. That it was enough of a foundation for River to trust me and allow me to help him, but it seemed things were more tenuous than I thought.

God, all I wanted to do was help him heal. Help him realize he was so much more than he thought, than what he’d been conditioned to believe. To prove to him I cared for him beyond the boundaries of the case he was helping with and to show him he mattered to me. But how could I do any of that when he wouldn’t unlock his door or reply to my messages? I felt like a fool for giving him the key to his room, even if it was under the advice of my therapist.

Joelle had been there to support me since I’d given in to Martha Hendrix’s demands just before I started college. She’d preached at me the virtues of therapy since they’d adopted me, telling me I had to work through my past and that I couldn’t keep running from it, allowing it to control me. And as the child they’d adopted to replace the son they lost, I’d been drowning in survivor’s guilt. Not just for living when my family died, but because I was living the life their son should have been.

I’d never chosen to fight, but life had thrown me in the pit and dared me to survive. So that’s what I did. I got up every day and fought. My life might not have been pretty, but I was still here. I just didn’t know if I could manage another twenty-four hours of silence from River. That fight, that need to survive, had shifted its focus from my life onto his, and as hard as it was to accept, I knew I couldn’t control another person.

Instead of allowing everything in my mind to run riot and dredge up issues with myself that I’d spent years dealing with, I did the only thing that seemed logical and picked up my phone to speak with the woman who had been a constant source of support.

“Hello, Jacob. How are you today?”

“Hi, Joelle. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“For you, Jacob, always.” Her voice was smooth like molasses, and it immediately calmed me enough so I wasn’t climbing the walls. “What’s going on that made you reach out to me before our appointment next week?”

I sighed and collapsed onto the couch. “I… um… did what you said and gave River the key to his room after I spoke to you.”

“I see,” she said softly. “And how is that going?”

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