Page 72 of Liars and Liaisons

“Right.” Nate studies me for a beat too long, shaking his head after what feels like an eternity. “Well, in any case… I missed you a lot, Vi. New York could use a few million people like you.”

He doesn’t ask what I’ve been up to.

The insanity of the situation isn’t lost on me. I’m just not sure what to do with it now. My body buzzes, alight with alarm and anxiety, but I’m unsure of where the sensations are coming from.

It’s the sense of impending doom without any way to prepare.

Sighing, I sink into the hum in his voice. The sincerity. It shines bright in his eyes, and I let myself believe he means what he says.

On the surface at least. Something isn’t right, and I don’t want to play my hand too quickly here. Let Nate think things are fine, that I’m buying the bullshit he’s selling. At least it’s a distraction from my dad’s debt collectors, the masked man that haunts my dreams, and the half-mortal man I wish would stop visiting mine when he won’t come to me in person.

“I’ve missed you too,” I say finally, my voice wooden and not at all my own. I push the pot away and let him scoop me into his arms.

His hands go to my hips, squeezing too tight. “I’m digging the new look, by the way. Very fairy chic. Reminds me of someone I used to know.”

I glance down at the little dress. Micah gave me a trunk full of old clothes she’d found, everything thin and lacy, citing that my wardrobe didn’t match my personality. I only took them because I’d never turned down a gift and didn’t want to see the disappointment on her face if I said no.

They’re not horrible, although the dress looks more like a doily than anything else. It barely covers me, as if it was tailored for someone about five inches shorter, and you can see the pink hint of my nipples through the knitting since my bra is hanging out to dry.

It isn’t me, but maybe that’s what Nate likes. The carefree, sweet, innocent woman he met in Boston months ago.

She’s not so sweet and innocent anymore.

Shaking off the bad seed of a thought, I go into his lap when he tugs me, feeling oddly numb. When he kisses me again, I try to return the gesture because this is exactly what I wanted.

This is right. Nate is right.

So, why does it all feel like a lie?

Unease trickles down my back and up my arms, like a leaky faucet. Awareness bores into my skin, and I shove back from Nate with a grunt. He frowns, his face a mask of complete irritation.

A curtain in one of the windows shifts, like we’re being watched.

“What the hell is your problem?”

I shake my head, pushing off his lap. “Stop acting like nothing happened between us. I spent weeks hating myself for you leaving. Weeks wondering what I did, what I said, and what I coulddoto get you back, and you’re really going to just pretend like none of that even happened?”

He sighs, standing and reaching for me. “Violet, come on. You know what my world is like. I needed some space—”

“No.” I hold my hands up, barring him access to me. “You didn’t call or text. You justghostedme, and you think that makes you entitled to a relationship still? I don’t think your brother is the insane one.”

“Then, why did you come here?”

“I—” My mouth slams shut, abruptly ending my sentence. “I don’t know.”

He takes a step forward, emotion fleeing his face. A hardened wall of stone slides into place, and I swallow, moving in the opposite direction. My back hits a column, and he moves in, trapping me against it, his hands shackling my wrists as he drives his pelvis into mine.

“Let me tell you what I think,” he mutters, his breath hot on the side of my face. “I think you saw an opportunity to get away from your shitty family to play house with me. Although we didn’t do muchplaying, did we?”

One of his hands goes to my thigh, sliding up beneath the hem of my dress. I shift, trying to dislodge him, but he just grips me tighter. I can feel the bruises forming beneath his touch.

“I think that I didn’t break up with you, but that didn’t matter when you found yourself a chance to shack up with my brother, did it?” I start to protest, but his other hand comes up, fitting over my mouth. “Oh, yes, you two must think I’m so goddamn stupid. I’ve seen you out there every morning, shoving your little ass in the air while you exercise. How long did it take you to fuck him, hmm? You wouldn’t go that far with me, wouldn’t even let me touch you, but I’m betting Grayson’s had his dick in you so many times that your pussy’s probably gaping by now.”

A distraught, muffled squeal comes from me when I feel his hand between my thighs. Disgust blazes around my insides, and I squirm against his hold, desperate to get away. One finger slips inside, and my soul breaks open.

“Well, look at that. Tight after all. He must not be fucking you very well.” The finger slips out before two more replace it. “I saw you the night I came to one of his parties. Lying in bed, probably thinking about him. I almost strangled you right there, but I wanted to see his face when I did it.”

Oh my God. That was him?

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