Trapped by Lies (Truth or Lies 3)

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THOSE FIVE MINUTES are the longest of my life. Because I know what I’m about to do, and I don’t know what the outcome will be. But I have to do it; if I truly love Kai, I have to set her free.

She looks like a goddess in an all white bikini cover-up, her jet black hair cascading down her back in thick strands, and Zeke’s scrunchie on her wrist—I doubt she will ever take the scrunchie off.

“One last game of truth or lies?” I ask, pouring a couple of shots of the disgusting alcohol she poured us before.

“Last?” she asks, stepping into the room.

I nod.

“Okay,” she says, looking concerned as she takes the shot glass from me. This time we don’t make ourselves comfortable on the couch, there will be nothing comfortable about this. This will be the most uncomfortable, painful thing I’ve done.

“I promised to protect you forever, truth or lie?” I ask.

“Truth,” she says, not taking the shot, just holding it in her hands.

“And have I kept that promise?”

“Yes.”

“I promised to set you free when Milo is gone, truth or lie?”

“Truth.”

“Milo is dead, truth or lie?”

“Truth,” Kai says, swallowing hard.

I hold my shot up, as does she, and then we both drink it, because we both know what is coming next. The drink burns going down, but it doesn’t hurt as much as what will come next.

I won’t tell her I love her. It’s not fair to her if I do. If I tell her I love her, that might make her decision for her. And that’s not what freedom is about. Freedom is about giving a person a chance to choose, and that’s what I’m doing.

“You are free, truth or lie?” I ask, my voice breathy.

“Truth,” she breathes back.

I nod.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Stay. I love you. Stay. We will figure out everything else. I will keep you safe. Just stay.

“I should go,” she says.

I nod. I can’t form words.

She opens her mouth like she wants to speak but then closes it.

“You aren’t going to try to protect me anymore, right? That’s what being free is,” Kai says.

I clear my throat. “I won’t protect you anymore,” I lie.

“Thank you.”

“And you won’t protect me,” I say.

“I won’t protect you,” she lies.