Page 57 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

Archer’s right: knowing what I now knowhaschanged me, just not in the way he assumed. Because the truth is, I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. In fact, if given the chance, I would do it all over again. What kind of person does that make me? That I am capable of such violence acts without feeling the soul altering guilt that I know I should?

I strip off my dress, pulling on a worn t-shirt Archer left behind, and crawl into my bed that still smells of him—of us.

Somehow, I have managed to mostly hold it together thus far, but here, alone in the dark, I shatter, mourning the loss of my innocence.

With great, big, heart-wrenching sobs, I cry for Archer. For the guilt he’s carried around all these years. The anguish he must have felt when he watched his sister die.

I cry for me, for my lack of remorse, for knowing I am forever changed.

Eventually, the tears dry up, leaving trails of salt crusted on my cheeks, and when sleep comes to claim me,I don’t try to fight it, instead I welcome it, letting it carry me into blissful oblivion.

It’s still darkout when a noise startles me awake.

Light footsteps sound on the wood floor, alerting me to another’s presence in my apartment.

There is only one other person it could be and my heart leaps—Archer.

I let out a quiet sigh. I know I should be angry at him for not respecting my request for space, but in truth, I’m relieved he came.

All the lights are off, so the only thing I can see is his shadowy silhouette as he pauses, still halfway across the room.

“Archer—what are you doing?” I speak into dark, but he doesn’t respond.

Something feels off.

My heart rate spikes as a sense of foreboding sends an icy chill down my spine.

Calm down, Mags. It’s just Archer. No one else can get in here. Only you and Archer know the alarm code,I remind myself in my head.

I did set the alarm when I got home, right?

Shit—I can’t remember.

My inner voice warns me that something about this isn’t right. Now on high alert, I start to sit up.

“Archer, this isn’t funny…” I trail off as he comes nearer.

Fear clamps my throat shut when It’s not Archer’s spicy citrus scent that fills my nose but the unfamiliar smell of tobacco smoke and leather.

“W-who are you?” I choke out as I crawl up the bed, my back pressing into the headboard.

The dark figure just continues to stand near the end of the bed, letting my question remained unanswered.

My eyes dart to the door as I contemplate trying to make a run for it, and even knowing it will most likely be in vain, I have to try.

Throwing back the covers, I spring off the mattress, and sprint towards the door, only making it a few feet before my foot twists in my abandoned gown and I slip, crashing to the floor. Pain shoots through my jaw and ankle as I land hard on my side.

I scramble to get up, but it’s too late. A strong arm wraps around my chest, and a cool cloth is pressed to my face. My mouth waters, filling with saliva and blood as I fight to hold my breath. Flashes of light dance in my vision, and my lungs seize until I can hold out no longer.

I inhale, gasping greedily for air. There’s a slightly sweet, metallic taste on my tongue before darkness closes in.

21

Archer

Isit hunched over on the black leather sofa in my office, my mask clinched tight in my fist.

How could I have been so stupid? I knew—I knew I was going to fuck this up. I should have told her when I had the chance. Now, I’ve lost the first woman I have ever genuinely cared about.

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