All the Lies (Lies & Truths 1)
He spins me around, and I wobble on my good foot so I don’t make the other one worse.
He doesn’t do it by force, though. I don’t know why I expected him to kick me in the shin just to make my injury way more painful.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He stares down at me with a cool expression. Those damn sunglasses block me from getting a read on him.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going back to school.”
“And you chose Jason for a ride.” It’s not a question; he’s stating a fact, and he’s intimidating me in such a subtle way, no passersby would detect it.
What kind of sorcery does he possess? Or maybe it’s not sorcery at all. This is the face of someone who’s in complete control of his emotions.
The type of demon who probably doesn’t have them at all.
That could explain why he can switch his body language so fast.
But if he thinks I’ll be his willing toy, he must really not know me at all. I might not have memories, but I know I’m not the type who lets others walk all over me.
I jut my chin out. “Jason and I are friends.”
He clutches my arm, fingers digging into my tender skin, and pushes me toward the wall. I gasp as my back hits the solid stone. Both his hands slam on either side of my face as he leans so close I can see his darkened eyes through the aviators.
“You’re not friends with Jason. You’re not friends with anyone unless I say you are.”
“Jeez, controlling much, Ash?”
He wraps his hand around my collarbone. It’s firm, disallowing me any movement, but it doesn’t cut off my air supply.
His mouth hovers inches from mine as he threatens in a deep tone. “For the last fucking time, it’s Asher.”
I’m about to speak when movement on my right catches my eye. A few students pass us by, openly gawking at the scene.
From their perspective, I’m standing on one leg, the other slightly bent. Asher’s front is almost covering mine, and his hand is around my throat. No idea
if it looks flirtatious or threatening.
But then again, Asher only appears threatening to me.
I place both hands on his T-shirt. The hard muscles ripple under my touch as I attempt to push him away.
He doesn’t move. Not even an inch.
“People are staring,” I hiss.
“Since when do you care?”
“Of course I care.”
“No, you don’t. Stop fucking around, Reina.”
“I’m not fucking around.” I lower my voice so no one hears. “I don’t want to be seen being manhandled by you in public.”
The corner of his lips tugs in a smirk. “Oh, but you have no say in that, remember? You’re my property and I touch you whenever and however I damn fucking please.”
The arrogance of this damn man. I’m tempted to punch him in the throat, but with his screwed up personality, he’ll just hurt me tenfold worse.
So I choose a different approach. Swallowing all the profanities, I soften my tone. “You know, those who claim their property in public usually suffer from trust issues. Now, I’m sure that’s not the case for you.”
His expression remains neutral, but I know I got him. Considering the level of Asher’s arrogance, I figured he wouldn’t like to be accused of anything, let alone trust issues. Besides, he’s the type who’d do everything to appear perfectly normal in the eyes of others. His perfect public image is everything he has and he’ll protect it with all his might.