Page 13 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

“Wait, please. Let me drive you home,” I offer.

She considers me carefully, staring at me so long, Ifear she’s going to refuse, finally seeing me for what I truly am.

But in the end, she agrees and allows me to lead her out into the darkened night, completely unaware that she may have escaped one monster tonight, only to walk straight into the arms of another.

6

Maggie

It’s late by the time we pull up to the curb outside my building. The road is gloomy, poorly lit by the streetlight on the corner. The windows of the neighboring houses gone dark, everyone already in bed.

Archer was quiet on the short drive over here, and I wonder if I misread that spark I felt earlier. When I went to leave and he didn’t stop me, I knew I must have imagined it.

I mean, it’s not like how it is in the books. You know the ones where the hero is so struck by the main characters beauty, he instantly falls in love, and they live happily ever after?

What a ridiculous notion—love at first sight. We all know it’s not real. It’s obviously just lust. And I can assure you, no one is lusting after me tonight. I literally have vomit stuck to the front of my dress.

I shouldn’t care anyways. Wasn’t I just saying earlier how I’m not interested in dating or men in general? Ishouldn’t have felt disappointment when he let me just walk away—but for some reason I did.

But then…he did that thing, where he chased after me through the crowd, offered to drive me home, even gave me his jacket when he saw I was cold, and my God it smells so good—also strangely familiar.

Now, it seems he’s back to being ice man. Oh well…It’s not like this was going to go anywhere anyway. He is obviously way out of my league and plus, like I said, I’m not looking for anyone right now. Not that he would date me anyway.

Why am I even thinking about this right now? I was attacked and almost kidnapped tonight. I mean, talk about inappropriate.

Yeah…on that note I think it’s time for me to go. Shrugging off his jacket, I grab my purse from the floorboard.

“Right—so thanks again for everything. I’ll be going now,” I tell him.

When I look over at him, though, I realize he’s not even looking at me. Instead, he’s staring over my shoulder looking out the window behind me. His eyes are like cold steel, hard and unblinking.

A shiver crawls up my spine, and my heart pounds in my chest. Slowly and without attracting attention, I reach out with a shaky hand for the door handle. My muscles are coiled as I prepare to spring from the car as soon as it’s open.

“Don’t,” he says as he reaches behind him and pulls something from his waistband. “I need you to stay in thecar.” The light from the streetlamp glares off something shiny and metallic in his hand and I realize he has a gun.

Stay in the car…Like hell I will!

Properly panicking now, I scramble to open the door only to find it locked.

Great—way to go Maggie. Now you’re trapped in the car with a psychopath who has a freaking gun. Oh God! If I die who’s going to be there for Jane? Take her to her doctor’s visits? Who’s going to make sure she eats and showers when she’s so weak, she can barely get out of bed?

Please—not now. I don’t want to die, not like this.

I screw my eyes shut, bracing myself for the shot that never comes. Instead, I feel a warm hand on my face, his thumb as it gently caresses my cheek. I peek open one eye, only to find him mere inches from my face.

“Hey… It’s okay—breathe. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. But I need you to listen to me and stay in the car. Okay?”

I exhale a shaky breath. “Okay.”

I have no clue what is going on right now, but I’m not wanting to argue with the man who has a gun so…what choice do I really have?

He pulls back somewhat reluctantly, his eyes finding mine one last time before he gets out, leaving me all alone—in a locked car.

Fuck this! I don’t care what I said. I’m getting the hell out of here.

I climb over the center console into the driver’s seat before exiting through the driver’s side door. I round thefront of the car and come to an abrupt halt. The sight before me catches me completely off guard.

Archer has his gun raised out in front of him as he slowly makes his way towards the steps to my apartment. Black swirling tattoos peak out from under his rolled-up sleeves, and I can’t help but notice the way his muscular forearms flex in the porch light.

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