Pretty, Twisted Lies: A friends to lovers standalone Read online

You would think I was being groomed to be a 1940s housewife. I suppose maybe I am. I can see the disappointment flare in my parents every time I open my mouth. They prefer me at a distance. I look prettier that way.

  CHAPTER 3

  I strut away feeling like a big shot. The flavor of her cherry lip gloss lingers on my lips. Fucking delicious. I’m not sure why I don’t come out this way more often. I can’t help the smirk lifting my lips. I want to turn my head and look back at her but refuse my muscles to move. Girls like a chase as much as the next guy. They can’t fool me into thinking otherwise.

  I can hear my mother’s scolding voice in my head. “Foolish boy.”

  The reason why all the daughters of the rich and famous are secluded out in Three Rivers is to prevent them from running away. They have nowhere to go, because this town is in the middle of nowhere.

  Sitting back on my bike, I push the kickstand back before revving the engine.

  I have a shift at my mother’s bar today and can’t be late; my meeting is waiting for me. The consequences would be far worse than any school discipline. I haven’t been to class this week, McGrath Mansion needing more help than normal. Maybe next week. Maybe not.

  I should have graduated last year, but I can’t seem to keep the whole schedule thing. But my mother wants to see me graduate, her only son. It’s not looking like I’m doing a great job of that this year either. I have too many other important things to do.

  I still have that cherry lip balm flavor on my lips by the time I get to McGrath Mansion. The flavor of it has me wondering what her other body parts taste like. I have a semi, imagining her lips around my cock. Readjusting myself, I try to get into business mode. Giving my head a shake, I drive the images of that girl away while I push the heavy doors of the bar open. The daylight stretches into the small square room, illuminating the way toward the bar.

  The bartender gives me a nod, motioning toward the back. Returning the gesture, I keep my head high as I stroll in. I can’t have distractions, and I have no doubt Kellie could easily turn into one. I can still feel the way her soft lips touched mine.

  I’m a fucking pussy. Who thinks like that? Controlling the urge to bring my fingers to my lips, I walk toward the back of the building, wanting to kick my own ass. If anyone could hear my thoughts right now, they would toss my ass out. I’m a man. Men don’t think like this.

  My steps echo in the vacant concrete area, informing everyone of my arrival. There sits a man twice my age tied to a wooden chair. “You’ve got this all wrong,” he pleads. Tears stream down his face, making me feel better for my thoughts earlier.

  I’m passed a samurai sword. It’s for show. I have no intention of using this on him. I like it too much.

  “Tell me the right version.” My voice is eerily calm. I can see the fear in his eyes, and even his fingers twitch with nervousness. No one fucks me over, and fucking with family is the same thing as fucking me over.

  “I didn’t steal any money.” Lies. He’s on the verge of pissing himself. Maybe I will use my sword.

  “Now, I don’t believe anyone has accused you of that.” My face is stony as his eyes widen, realizing his error.

  I do a few practiced moves, swinging my sword to see if it scares him enough. To my disappointment, all he does is start to vibrate.

  “I borrowed it, returned it the next day. I swear. I would never steal from you.”

  Walking around him, I place my sword down, picking up the knife I favor. My thumb brushes against the blade while I decide what to do with him.

  “Who said it was okay to steal from my mother?” I pose, just as the smell of urine clogs my nostrils.

  “I returned it. It will never happen again.”

  My right-hand man, Russ, comes up to me. He looks toward the area of the staged bar before casting his eyes down at my victim. We both know this is not an innocent mistake. This dipshit is part of the MC that likes to hang around here at night. This is a test. I cannot show weakness or I will be overrun in my own establishment.

  Russ leans in for only me to hear. “You’re wanted up front. You’ll want to deal with this first.”

  Frustrated that I’m being interrupted, I take a step back. No one interrupts me; I thought everyone knew this. Yet, I’m also intrigued. I’ve always been an adventure chaser, and whoever is out there must be important.

  The men standing around come and duct tape the MC life member, circling his whole head. I knew I never should’ve hired him. Lesson learned. But where lessons are learned, opportunities lie. He will become my informant. His punishment from the club being far worse than mine, he will have to accept.

  Coming from the hidden back, I walk into the bar when I see the suit. Nothing good ever comes from a man in a thousand-dollar suit. His jacket is perfectly starched, showing no indication he wore it while driving. His black shoes shine, showing the reflection of the ceiling. Everything about him screams wealth.

  “You look a little lost. How can I help you?” I ask the stranger, immediately pouring him a beer from behind the bar. The mansion is far enough off the beaten path that only regulars come here. Even the townsfolk stay as far away from here as possible.

  “You the bartender?” he asks, not making any movement for the beer as he studies me.

  “It’s only one of my talents.”

  He has a Rolex on his wrist and wears three thick gold rings on his fingers. He smells bleachy-clean, meaning he has a reason to hide his wolf fangs. I can’t help but think he’s another cockroach.

  “I’ve heard you’re a man of many talents.” His face is stoic, giving me no clue to what he’s thinking other than his cryptic words. His statement has me on edge. Without him leaving my vision, I double-check the small busted out window to see if he’s alone before I pick up the beer I poured for him and take a drink.

  If my mom weren’t sick, I wouldn’t have to deal with this all by myself. At least I’m saving her the stress and worry.

  I study him as intently as he does me. We don’t get his kind out here very often. I refer to his type as color-changing chameleons. They’re the ones who steal your grandmother’s retirement money and make millions. “What talent are you in need of?”

  A wolfish grin replaces his expression, thinking I’m green. My dreams stopped being of candy and unicorns when I was eight. From the looks of this guy, I’ve seen more action than his wristwatch in terms of what type of talents I possess. This guy has one. He pays people to do his dirty work. His persona screams it from a mile away.

  He steps closer, taking me in. I know what I look like. A young guy trying to make a name for himself.

  His knees dip as he picks up a backpack and tosses it onto the bar. Eyeing him then the bag, I open the gray zipper, its sound not even close to drowning out the ringing in my ears. Inside are multiple bundles of hundred-dollar bills tied together. There has to be close to twenty grand in there.

  “Can you clean this?”

  I don’t look up at him, still checking out the bag. My fingers refuse to touch any of it in my inspection. I’m not sure if I have ever seen this much money at once in my life.

  “What’s your timeframe?” I ask, knowing the consequences of not delivering.

  “A month?” he asks, but I know the timeframe is not up for discussion.

  I nearly choke on my tongue, not that he can tell. I keep my face only slightly interested. I quickly do the math in my head; it’s not impossible. I’m going to have to let that fucker in the back live though. Just as I had thought, I’ll need his help to bring his friends in here more.

  “Done.” My hand reaches out to shake his. His shake feels like fake toughness. Where it starts off strong, but the tighter I squeeze, the weaker his wrist gets. I doubt this fucker even knows what he’s doing.

  CHAPTER 4

  I try to shake off the thoughts of Kiptyn. He’s the first and only person I have ever seen drive past the road out front other than the normal limos, Porsches, or anything that screams wealth
and exclusivity.

  I head back outside to “study,” hoping to catch a glimpse of him riding his bike. Each day this week, I’ve sat in the same spot, fanning the embers of my silly fantasy. I want to know everything about him, including his take on this small Texas town. Part of me dreams of him whisking me away, us disappearing to some unknown island and living out our days happy and content.

  I laugh out loud at the outrageousness of this daydream. Looking down, I have my textbook opened to a page I have no intention of reading. My mind drifts back to my punishment for kissing such a person under my stature. I was placed on bathroom duty after my stunt, a week of cleaning dirty toilets and scrubbing stalls that have hair in every corner, looking like mini spider nests. I find it funny how the package of cigarettes was never brought up again.

  I hear the sputter of an engine and immediately perk up. I watch his dirt bike go past me, and my heart drops. He doesn’t stop or slow down. Shaking my head in disappointment, I should have known better. No local would ever be interested in the burden or work it would take to talk to a girl like me.

  I need to stop coming out here, get my head out of the clouds—as I have been told so many times before. Even under a tree that is shading me, I can see my lily-white skin reddening. No need to get sunburned for no reason other than a silly girl’s dream. Closing my books, I realize I’m being ridiculous. I should be inside so the old bats running this place can see me, instead of giving them more reasons to come look for me. Then I can gain their trust to escape this place once and for all.

  The sound of an engine starts coming louder once again. I don’t want to look, but I do. He looks so cool and sexy on that bike. Passing the entrance of our school, his front tire pops upward as he begins to do a wheelie. My eyes can’t stay off of him. He stays in the upright position until he passes me and then races out of my vision.

  Watching Kiptyn makes me smile. He’s completely carefree, and I wish I could be like that. I imagine myself on his bike, doing what he did. The thought excites me. I sometimes daydream about doing terrifying things like that. I’m so morbid that I even imagine what would happen if things went wrong. Like, what if a rock makes the bike turn and I skid off of it? What would my parents do? What would be their full reaction? I even take it as far as imagining my own funeral. Super creepy, abnormal things, but I can’t help these thoughts. But in reality, all they are, are just that—my thoughts. I don’t think I have the guts to go on the back of a motorcycle or even a dirt bike. I want to. But the thought terrifies me.

  A few minutes later, a bird-like whistle softly twirls around me, making me shake my head with a sigh. Picking up my books, the whistling becomes louder, closer toward me.

  “Kellie.”

  Looking around, I see nothing. The whistling begins again, and this time I’m able to follow its location. Just outside my prison walls, I see Kiptyn smiling at me, and my heart does a double thud. His hand gestures for me to come to him, and I laugh at myself. I really do need to get into a better mood these days.

  Looking around me, I see no prying eyes before I take my chance for a moment of escape. I slip through those large metal gates that hold no real purpose of keeping anything in. Stealing one last glance, I duck behind a large lilac bush that marks the beginning of the forest behind the school.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Trying to get rid of me already?” He looks down at me with a playful smirk before grabbing my hand. I drop my textbook to the ground, not wanting to bring it. His warm hand engulfs mine as he tugs me deeper into the woods surrounding the gates of my school. My heart does the same double thud as it did last time I saw him.

  “Where are we going?” I try to keep up with his long strides, but I keep tripping on my own two feet.

  He stops, and we’re in the middle of a narrow worn path that’s hidden from the perfectly manicured lawns as he ignores my question.

  “Those short legs of yours don’t go any faster, huh?”

  I can’t help I’m short, even for female standards. At five-foot two, most people tower over me. He looks me over, and I feel myself blushing. I can’t help it; it’s my pulse reacting to him.

  Taking a step closer to me, he motions with his head for me to hop onto his back. “Come on now. If we keep going your speed, they’ll notice you’re gone.”

  My teeth bite into my lower lip, unsure if I should. I want to; the idea of being so close to him intrigues me, but should I?

  Stepping into my personal space, he wraps my arms around his neck as he crouches down to help. Cautiously, I straddle his back, becoming very aware of how good he smells.

  He begins his trek to who knows where. My body bounces on his back, and I can feel the muscles of his shoulders. We don’t stop until there is a small clearing. A picnic table that looks like it was made from tree stumps sits there, with a massive boulder just off to the side where his bike rests.

  His hands let go of my legs, dropping my feet to the ground slowly. Getting a better look around, it looks like a small runway type of clearing. The dirt is packed down, with a few small humps along its path.

  “When I feel like doing tricks, I come here. I like the feeling of my dirt bike sailing through the air.”

  I nod, able to imagine him flying through the air, kicking out his feet.

  Walking deeper into the area, I head toward the picnic table. The wood is rounded, showing each long log used to build each section. “Did you make the picnic table?”

  He laughs a deep, throaty chuckle. “Yes.”

  “You’re very talented.” My feet go to the bench and I take a seat on the tabletop portion.

  “You have no idea just how talented.” He winks at me, making my skin turn crimson once again. We hold each other’s gaze before I’m forced to leave his intense stare. It’s too unnerving, making me feel like I might reveal too much of my true self to him.

  Lying down, I allow my feet to dangle off the end, not knowing what I should be doing here. I can still feel Kiptyn’s eyes on me, making me smile. I like the way he pays attention to me. I’m not sure if anyone has ever given me attention the way he does. When I don’t feel his gaze on me, I open my eyes, seeing him lying on the grass and staring up into the sky.

  I begin to sing, enjoying how at peace I feel here. I belt out the lyrics to “Hallelujah.” It was what my nanny used to sing to me as a child. The song always made me feel at home. When I finish the song, the silence seems to be ten times louder than before.

  “Please don’t stop.” His voice is low, and I see he’s closed his eyes.

  Breathing out, I start another song, going back to looking up at the sky.

  I can’t help but think about our first kiss, and how I want to experience it repeatedly. I’ve never wished for someone to kiss me again with such desire as I do, lying on the picnic table and singing my heart out. I never want to let go of these feelings that swirl inside me. I want to bottle them up in mason jars to hold onto when I need them the most. I have this weird sensation that Kiptyn was meant to come into my life, like our paths are destined to be intertwined.

  Turning my head, we stare into each other’s eyes, me singing, him listening. It lasts for two more songs, and I feel like we can look deep into each other, knowing this is our sanctuary. Where we both can escape our real lives.

  It’s Kiptyn who first sits up. I copy his movements, knowing before he gets up that he’s going to kiss me. It’s in the way he eyes my lips and this look he holds.

  He stands up, and I stay rooted in my spot, sitting with my perfectly straight back from years of my mother yelling at me for slouching. He places his large frame between my legs. His hands slip through my long blonde hair before pulling it to one side.

  My stomach has a million butterflies being released. It flutters, and I wonder if he knows the effect he has on me. Then ever so slowly, he bends down, placing his lips on mine.

  It’s agonizingly slow, so I push myself into him, wanting to feel more contact.
His tongue sweeps across my lips, and I open for him. I can feel my nipples pucker at the sensation, and I want more. He deepens the kiss with a growl coming from deep with him. I can feel his smile spreading against my lips. He pulls away, and I’m left breathless and weak-kneed. I don’t think my legs would hold me up if I was standing.

  “Looks like you have a lot of talents too,” he flirts. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “Want to watch me do some tricks on my bike?”

  I welcome the distraction and nod, because I can’t find my voice.

  CHAPTER 5

  November

  I find myself going every Saturday to see Kellie at our spot. I look forward to it as soon as we part ways, wishing for time to speed up, so she can be with me again.

  My bike vibrates under me as I push the throttle farther down, my RPMs rushing higher. I lean into each turn as I race toward our spot, hoping to get there before she does. When the clearing starts to come into view, I lift my front tire to do a wheelie the rest of the way in.

  Her clapping brings my attention to the picnic table. My shoulders automatically relax, and I have this stupid grin on my face. She is the one pure, innocent thing I have in my life. She’s not tainted with my way of life.

  She peers up at me through thick black eyelashes, a product of her light makeup. Her ocean-blue eyes shine back at me.

  “What took you so long?” she asks, jumping up from where she sat.

  I shrug, not wanting to drag her down with how I’ve had to partner with the MC closest to our town. Or the fact that I just dismantled two cars today into so many parts that no one will ever find them again. “I had to work late.”

  She gives me a half-smile while placing her hands in her pockets.

  “Want to go for a ride?” I’ve seen her eyeing my bike with curiosity. At first, I thought I would wait for her to ask to go on it, but she never has in the last three months.

  She bites on that bottom lip of hers, a sign when she’s nervous. “Do you have a helmet?”