Page 51 of Delectable Lies

“Believe what you want, love.” His palm curls around the doorknob, covering my hand. “But when the truth you seek knocks you on that gorgeous arse, just remember I tried to warn you.”

“Warning me,” I bark out a sarcastic laugh as I twist to face him. “Is that what you're calling it? First, you show up out of nowhere and take the only person I had in this world away from me. Then, just when I thought I’d found my place here, with the people who can help me figure out whatever the fuck you and your masked accomplice did to my mam, you show back up again, and what…try fucking me to silence?”

“That’s not—”

I hold up my hand, cutting him off. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, Rohan King,” I spit his name with a venomous slur. “But count me the fuck out.”

My finger pokes his chest, but he remains still, unfazed by my outburst. Hot angry tears freefall from my eyes, burning with hate, sadness, and regret. “There’s only one thing I want from you, Rí. So, unless you’re willing to tell me what happened to my mam, then go fuck yourself. Then, once you get off on your sick, twisted fantasies, do it all over again. Cause one thing is for sure. This” — I motion between us — “was a one-time thing.”

His hand reaches for my face, then suddenly, he swipes my fury from my cheek with a gesture so sweet and un-Rohan-like it makes the breath in my lungs dissipate. Unwilling to lean into his gesture, I continue to release all my pent-up emotions on him, only this time, there’s less fight behind my words. Instead, they’re littered with defeat. “Just let me leave, Rohan. Please.”

He acknowledges my plea with a dip of his chin before wordlessly twisting the doorknob and pulling the door open.

Relief floods my lungs, and I turn on my heel, but right as I’m crossing the threshold, Rohan calls my name, halting my escape.

My shoulders sag as I toss a glance over my shoulder.

“I know you don’t owe me anything,” Rohan starts. “But you can’t tell the Devereuxs about that night at your house.”

“Why not?”

He bites down on his tongue, eyes downcast to the floor. Finally, he tilts his chin, peering at me over his thick black lashes. “Time to open your eyes, love. A hero disguised as a villain is still a hero.”

“You expect me to believe you’re the hero here?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“Then what is it you want?”

“Trust is earned, Saoirse. You shouldn’t give it freely.”

My heart freezes mid-beat. Those words are so similar to the ones my mother wrote on the back of the photo that led me here. But how?

I blink through my confusion, eyebrows furrowed as I work through how he knew what to say to gain my attention.

Finally, he steps forward, brushing past me with these parting words. “The truth is more powerful than the lie, but only if you have the full story. Be careful who you confide in, Saoirse. Sometimes the devil you think you know is far worse than the devil you don’t.”

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