Cruel Lies (Lies 4)

“Thank you,” I whisper as she runs back to Langston, dragging him out of the church.

My eyes

water once again.

Dammit, I have to stop crying.

“Are we getting married or not?” Maxwell asks me with an annoyance to his voice.

I smile. “No, we aren’t.”

“Damn, I was sort of looking forward to the honeymoon.” He winks at me.

I roll mine.

“Sit your ass down and don’t move, or I’ll tie you up.”

I really should tie him up. Or lock him up. Or kill him. Something. I don’t trust Maxwell.

No, you were just going to marry him.

Maxwell sits in the first pew, looking bored.

I wish I knew whose side he was really on and what the hell to do with him. All I know is there is something inside me, a warning bell of sorts that tells me I can’t kill him—yet.

I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to go outside and talk to Langston, but I should let Phoenix and him have their time.

So I pace.

Back and forth in the front of the altar.

The priest has walked to his back office, realizing this wedding isn’t going to happen. It’s just me and Maxwell.

“You need to stop doing that,” Maxwell says.

“Why?” I keep pacing.

“You have nothing to worry about. That man loves you and will jump at the chance to marry you.”

“He can’t love me,” I whisper more to myself than to Maxwell. I won’t let Langston love me.

The door at the back opens, and Langston appears. The sun forms a halo of light around his body as the rain is now nothing more than a pitter-patter behind him.

“Come,” he orders.

I hate when he gives me orders. I’m too nervous to protest or ask questions, though, so I walk to him.

“Where is Phoenix?” I ask, looking behind him.

“I got her a car to take her to the jet. She’s headed back to watch over the kids.”

“I don’t think I could have picked a better mother for the kids than her. She’s the most amazing, selfless woman I’ve ever known. I’ll never be able to repay her for everything.”

“No, we won’t,” he agrees.

We stare into each other’s eyes as our breathing deepens. I can feel my pulse in my throat—a big, giant heartbeat that wrecks my whole body, taking over every other emotion.

Neither of us speak; we just stare. I’m not sure what to do or what this means.