Page 41 of The Lies that Bind Us, Part One

“Did you kill them once you got tired of them?”

He scoffed at that. “Please. As if I need to kill someone to break up with them. My ex-girlfriends show up dead, and it’s only a matter of time until the FBI is at my door. I’m insulted you would even ask. You think I survived this long out there by being stupid?”

“Well, when I hit you with my car, you were wandering in the middle of nowhere, bleeding out, because you got stabbed, so—”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Oh, okay.” I rolled onto my back, once more staring at the ceiling in the darkness. My hands were folded over my stomach, and I picked at the comforter absentmindedly. “Did you ever love any of them? Your exes? Can someone like you even love?”

Brett didn’t lash out and feign insult. He actually sounded thoughtful when he answered, “I had fun with them. I… don’t know about love. I loved my cousin, before he died. He was like a brother to me.”

“That’s different. I’m talking about romantic love.”

“Romantic love,” Brett repeated slowly, as if he’d never heard the phrase. It was a good thing my room was dark, because there was no possible way we could have this talk while staring at each other. A little too intimate here. “I don’t know. I’ve told women in the past that I did love them, but I don’t think I ever meant it.”

That’s pretty much what I thought. Someone like Brett, someone who could so easily end a life without blinking—love, true love, passionate and romantic love, was out of reach for him.

“You know,” Brett said, “you’re asking an awful lot about me. I don’t think I like it, Charlie.”

“You know all about me, so it’s only fair.” That was a lie, because he definitely didn’t know all about me. He didn’t know about my scars or about the tiny blade in my desk. He didn’t know why I’d clung to Zak as my lifeline for so long, why his loss had shattered me so utterly.

“Life ain’t fair.” His words were whispered, but they hit me like a slap.

Life wasn’t fair. Oh, I knew that. I knew that more than most people, I think. Having a stalker when I’d done nothing to lure one in was only the tip of the iceberg. The true size of that iceberg, hidden beneath the water’s surface, was immeasurable.

I didn’t say anything back to him. I couldn’t. I simply shut my eyes and pretended I was asleep, if only to end the conversation.

Chapter Fifteen – Brett

I woke up when the first light of a new day shone through the blinds on the window. After light began flooding the room, I couldn’t fall back asleep. I tossed and I turned—and ached in my midsection; sleeping on hard carpet was only marginally better than sleeping in a fucking treehouse—but no matter what I did, I couldn’t doze off.

So I sat up and looked around, wondering if it was early enough that I could slip out before Charlie’s parents got up.

Charlie. She’d asked me a lot of questions last night. She’d also told me the truth about her and her ex. If I was honest with myself, I’d say how ticked off hearing that little story had made me, mostly because I wanted to hurt Zak for daring to hurt her.

I know, I know. It was a bad idea all around. Maybe that’s why I wanted her stalker to be that asshole of an ex. If Zak turned out to be her mystery man, then I’d get to put an end to him—and after hearing what he did, I’d gladly make it last.

I slowly sat up and glanced toward the bed, where Charlie still slept soundly. I couldn’t see her from where I was, so I got up, stretched, and let my eyes travel along the bed. She lay on her back, her long brown hair a mess around her head. Her lips were parted just a bit, the sheets pulled up to her chest. Even though enough light filled the room to wake me up, she was still out.

Charlie had asked a lot of questions last night. So curious and inquisitive. I couldn’t help but wonder if her questions were innocent, or if that stupid kiss and the almost kiss that had followed near the treehouse had rooted their way inside her head.

She was ahead of everyone else in that she knew who I was, what I was capable of. She wasn’t some naive girl who wanted to change the inner monster. No, she wanted to use me for what I was good at, and then we would both go our separate ways. By then, I’d be healed up, ready to go on the run, and she’d be able to live her life without constantly looking over her shoulder, wondering if someone was watching.

My feet drew me closer to the bed, and I was slow to sit on the edge, my gaze fixated on Charlie’s face.

She looked so peaceful while she slept. It was the only time she didn’t have that eternal sadness to her. Those fucking big, brown eyes that looked a size too large for her head that wordlessly begged me to take care of all of her problems.

Last night, I didn’t know what got into me. Maybe seeing her with Zak had riled me up more than I wanted to admit, though I didn’t know why. Maybe that’s why I’d almost kissed her again. The only reason I didn’t was because of that fucking call.

If her stalker hadn’t called, what would’ve happened? How far would things have gone?

Charlie wasn’t pretty. She wasn’t my type. She was too small, too breakable, and she looked like she needed to go back to third grade. I wasn’t one of those pedophile-adjacent guys who got off on girls who looked like they weren’t legal. She really wasn’t my cup of tea.

And yet, even though I kept repeating that to myself, as I sat there, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was so small, so helpless. The world chewed up people like that and spit them out. Sometimes they were dead, other times trapped in an abusive relationship with no way out, and no one around them saw the truth of it—and they wouldn’t, not until it was too late.

That’s how the story went. People like Charlie were too easy to take advantage of.

I wanted to go back and finish my business with that Montgomery girl, to get her back for stabbing me and fucking up my plan, but at the same time, I wanted to stay here and protect this sad, helpless little girl.

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