All the Truths (Lies & Truths 2)

I ignored all the signs and my instinct and went to him. I considered him my savior when he’s been my Grim Reaper all along.

Logically, I should stand up and go there. I should pull him by the shoulder, slap him across the face, and ask him why he did that to me—to us.

Tears well in my eyes at the mere thought. I can’t possibly face him without breaking at his feet.

He’ll taunt me and call me a monster; he’ll tell me it’s all my fault. I can’t take that right now. My armor has chipped and is now heaped in a useless pile amongst the broken pieces.

So I do the one thing I can at this moment. My nails dig into the dirt as I use it to rise to my feet.

There’s something so utterly hard about standing up after a fall. The ground keeps pulling me down as if not willing to let me go. It’s gravity, I know that, but my brain is unable to process that fact right now.

It takes me long seconds, but I manage to stand up on unsteady feet. I don’t look at Asher—not even one glance.

If I do, I’ll make the broken pieces worse. I’ll soak them with blood, bury them in my chest, and it’ll be an unsalvageable mess.

I take one step after another, putting one foot in front of the other.

One step.

Two steps.

I can do this. I can walk.

It takes me what seems like an eternity to reach the entrance. It’s empty, desolate and…wrong.

That sensation from the hospital returns with a vengeance.

Wrong.

Everything is just so fucking wrong, from the house to the hollowness to the damn air.

Jason stands at the front, leaning against the double doors. His developed arms are crossed over his chest as he watches me with furrowed brows.

He knew all along.

That’s why he warned me through Cloud003’s Instagram account. If I’d paid enough attention, I probably could’ve done something about it.

I could’ve stopped myself before I fell this deep into Asher’s trap.

Problem is, I didn’t even feel it when I was lured in. I couldn’t smell the scheme or sense the manipulations. I suspected him, but never enough to think he was after my life—literally.

I only felt the push when I fell. I only registered the fall when all the pieces scattered around me under that tree.

“Are you okay?” Jason asks slowly, but he doesn’t move from his spot.

My feet come to a screeching halt at the step. When I meet his gaze, my movements are slow and almost robotic. In my attempts to stop myself from crying, I’ve turned numb.

The hot sun above might as well become a gray cloud. I feel nothing, see nothing, and smell nothing. The world has suddenly become colorless, and I have no idea if I want the colors back.

“Ah, shit.” He rubs the back of his neck and approaches me slowly, as if I’m an injured animal. “Did Asher say something? I knew that asshole would step on you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I don’t recognize my voice; it’s neutral and dead, colorless like the world surrounding me.

He rubs his nape again, appearing uncomfortable. “Asher threatened me and my mom. She’ll have nowhere to go if Alex fires her, so we have to stay here until I secure my position in the NFL.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I can’t keep watching you consider him a hero when he’s your worst villain.” His tone hardens with every word. “He never cared about you, Reina. Not once in his selfish, fucked-up existence did Asher Carson look at you like he gives two fucks about your wellbeing.”