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All the Lies (Lies & Truths 1)

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My mouth opens farther as I take more of his forefinger inside. I don’t even know what I’m doing, but I feel something seeping out of him and rushing to me.

A sense of power.

A shift in dynamics.

His mask is slipping and a demented gleam shines in his eyes.

I can keep on disarming him, and soon, he won’t only leave me be, he might as well disappear from my life and—

He pulls his finger back as suddenly as he shoved it inside, and I release it with a pop.

His face returns to the calm façade, the impenetrable façade.

My breathing comes out harsh and irregular as I try to regain control over my senses.

Exhaustion rears on my nerve endings and my lids slowly flutter closed. Must be the meds. Good—something to take away the pain.

The bed shifts as Asher stands up, staring down at me with malice and…something else.

Maybe it’s that something else, or maybe it’s the fact I have no one here except for him. I just don’t want to be alone.

The company of a monster is better than no company.

In the haziness of sleep, I murmur, “Don’t…leave.”

“You owe me. I’m not leaving anymore.”

When I wake up the next day, a small part of me hopes whatever happened yesterday was a nasty nightmare.

I’m not in the hospital. I didn’t lose my memories. I don’t have a fiancé who calls me a monster.

The white walls surrounding me and the scent of bleach negate the first option.

My heartbeat picks up when I search my surroundings for those sinister, terrifying eyes. My entire body kicks into gear, tightening and shuddering for a fight.

He’s not here.

I release a breath. Maybe that part was indeed a nightmare.

“Reina?”

My muscles lock as I turn to my side. Pain explodes in the back of my head and I wince. It’s like a dull ache gripping my entire system.

“Take it easy, Rei.” An older man’s face comes into view as he helps me into a comfortable sitting position.

He’s wearing a dark brown, Italian-cut suit. His short, dark hair is styled to perfection and his sharp green eyes look so much like…Asher.

“You’re Asher’s father?”

“You remember me.” He smiles, and it reaches his eyes. “I was worried when the doctors mentioned amnesia.”

“I still don’t remember. You just look so much like him.”

“I see.” He unbuttons his jacket and sits down on the stool beside me. “I’m Alexander Carson, Asher’s father and your guardian of sorts.”

“My guardian? Aren’t I twenty-one?”

“Almost twenty-one, yes. I was your legal guardian until you turned eighteen, and since you continued to study in Blackwood, I remain your next of kin.”



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