Page 20 of Nest Of Lies

I told him Iloved him.

Oh, god, open the ground now and let me sink into oblivion. My face won’t stop burning. It’s been an hour, and every time I think about it, my face explodes into flames again.

I glance back at their mansion. I have one window on my second story floor where I can see perfectly into the property. Am I perched up here reading a book? Well, technically, not that I could even tell you the title of it.

I’m too busy watching the Harley’s drive up and down their driveway. Two hours ago, they came in like a storm. Guys got off bikes, laughing and slapping hands together, and pulling each other into chest bumps. There was movement and people, and I sat up here listening to the laughter and conversation as they disappeared into the mansion and, like usual, a little part of me died inside.

It’s not jealousy. Not exactly. I don’t want to be down there bumping my tits against these strange men’s chest, not after some of the things I’ve seen them do. But the isolation eats at me.

If I get too close to them, they might find out how sick I am.That dark thought swims up in my mind, dangerously, poisonously swirling larger than life every time I think about joining in.

Joining anything.

Locke was in so much pain and suffering, and he couldn’t tell me because I was so broken. The guilt joins the fear and shame. A tear slips down my cheek, and I angrily swipe it away.

“You’re sick, Lia.”

It’s always her voice in my head when I’m alone. My mother has been back four times since I was sixteen, and each time, her eyes have cut me to ribbons before she’d even opened her mouth.

“I’m not sick,” I say out loud, but my voice lacks conviction because in the back of my mind, if I was well, wouldn’t my mother love me? Wouldn’t my cousin have told me he was in trouble? Wouldn’t I have people around me, friends, lovers, anything? Instead, I live in this mansion alone, and the closest thing I have to friends are the bikers who live in the mansion next door.

I force myself up and away from the window seat. I haven’t decided on how I’m going to get revenge on Valen throwing all my clothes in the pool. Half of them have already been cleaned and dried and returned, courtesy of Mills.

Just thinking about Mills sends a sexy little shiver through me. He’s so big and muscular. His tattoos are all super realism. He has a wolf, an owl, a tiger, and a snow leopard all adorning his arms in full colour. He’s a work of art. But it’s those hazel, soulful eyes framed by thick lashes and bronzed skin. When he looks at me, I swear, he can see all my secrets.

I bounce down to the kitchen and pause when I find Arnold snooping through my fridge. Arnold is my mother’s hire and the only person to enter the mansion other than me or mama. He is her only concession to my isolation. A man who comes and cooks occasional meals of steamed veggies and boiled chicken or boiled steak. He freezes those meals, checks the cleaners’ work, reports every infraction to my mother, and then leaves. He’s tall, and thin, and always looks like he’s smelled something foul.

I throw everything he cooks in the bin.

He doesn’t speak to me, not once in all the years he’s been showing up. I tried for years to get a single word out of him, but nothing passed his lips. Desperation had me attempting to lock him out, but that failed, too. I tried so hard to keep him out of my space, but Mama was insistent and unyielding. So now, I just ignore his presence.

But he should not be here today. It’s not his day.

That, in and of itself, is suspicious.

I find that I keep glancing his way and anxiously watching the clock. He should go soon, and I can get back over to the Mirakill Mansion and steal back my bear. They had it too well-guarded when I tried earlier. I had to abort the mission.

I grumble under my breath and wander upstairs, hopping in the shower and redressing in black leggings and a black singlet. With a careful glare at my rival’s mansion, I put on my black converse and lace them up before tying my hair in a bun and pulling a blackbeanie over it. I go downstairs and spot Arnold vacuuming. It’s easy to slip out of the house without him noticing.

The night is cool, so I jog around the house to warm up, carefully glancing at the mansion beside mine. My mother’s voice tries to scream me down, but when it comes to the Mirakill Pack, even my mother’s voice can’t stop me. There are still bikes there, but less now. I go back in the house and yank off my beanie, going to the fridge for water and flopping on the couch.

Arnold watches me like a hawk. I hate his eyes. They make my skin crawl.

He tells my mother everything I do. So, I go out of my way to do the most mundane things possible when he’s here.

Eventually, he leaves. Quietly packing up his supplies and slipping out the front door like a ghost. I sit and count the seconds as they turn into minutes.

This mansion is a Raines mansion. It’s not just my mothers, it belongs to my mother, my aunts, and my uncle. All four of them, but my mother lived here right until she left me.

I wait an hour just to be safe and then turn off all the lights and peer out the curtain.

No movement.

Still, I go through a window and slip unseen into the bushes. I love this part. It makes me feel like I exist, like I’m part of something bigger. I make my way over and into their property, climbing one of the trees and slipping in through a room they don’t know exists.

I found it accidentally one day when I was trying to hide from them. It’s a thin space only wide enough for a man or three to stand shoulder to shoulder. There’s a door that opens onto the tree and one that opens up in the closet of Zaden’s bedroom.

I’m halfway to the bedroom door when I hear a groan from the bed.

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