Page 55 of Bitter Lies

“You crashing and burning. Was it you who attacked Jason, Halsey?”

“What? No!” I exclaim, hiding my panic behind a cold scowl.

“Really?” It takes everything in me to meet his skeptical gaze, and I raise my chin for good measure. “Yes, really. And I’m hardly going to crash and burn.”

“Whatever. You think fucking Hogan is going to make it all better? What happened the last time, Halsey?”

Fighting off the urge to scrub my skin, I turn away from his gruff tone. “Ha! If you only knew.”

Am I to have my sins paraded before me forever? Apparently so.

“Hm,” he hums, and I shudder because I’d die if he had any idea of my shame, and with each interaction, I become more desperate to hide it.

“I’m allowed to go on a date,” I mutter frigidly, tired of him throwing shit in my face he couldn’t possibly understand.

Of course, I know the consequences of my actions. I’m still fucking trying to process them months later.

“Perhaps,” he says, “but you’re running from the truth, and Hogan isn’t going to give you what you need.”

“Which is what?”

“Well, besides the obvious? Orgasms? He can’t erase your past, sweetheart. It’s here to stay.”

I ignore his words because they’re hurtful, even if misguided. “How do you know he can’t give me orgasms?”

With a devilish look lighting his eyes, he smirks. “Because your lips don’t open when he touches you.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s simple, sweet. When I fuck you, your lips are open on a sigh, and with him, they’re firmly shut up tight.” He runs a finger down my cheek with an intensity that makes me shiver.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Standing, he smiles and raises a brow. “Is it?”

“You never answered my question.”

He pauses, the wicked smirk falling from his lips, replaced by a blackness behind his eyes that makes me pause. “Well, sweetheart, it would seem I can’t fucking let you go. By the way, let me know when you’re ready to pop your ass cherry. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still an anal virgin after the games you’ve been playing. They must not have been doing it right.”

Dumbfounded, I stare after him, images of him fucking me in the ass riding through me painfully, and weirdly, the thought isn’t reprehensible, which means I genuinely am fucked in the head.

But the implications leave me cold because he’s now implied group sex on more than one occasion, and I know, even if I’ve been fighting the reality, that he thinks I willingly fucked more than one guy at once.

This is my truth, and I feel violated and fucking enraged that Jason thought to share the dirty deed because the choice has been plucked from my hands once more. On the wings of these thoughts is a warmth I refuse to analyze, because Griffin may not be able to resist this or me or whatever, but it doesn’t mean much beyond he’s a sick fucker…just like me.

Making my way back inside, I’m not surprised, but I am chagrined to find my date sucking face with some chick, and with a sigh to the universe, I resign myself to walking home.

I don’t see Griffin, which is just as well as I make my way grimly to the sidewalk, unsurprised when he intercepts me in his SUV. Without comment, I get inside, annoyed by his victorious smirk as I stare out the window.

The stars shine bright overhead, and my thoughts tumble back in time to when life was so much simpler. Unable to ignore the sweet memories, I say, “Remember when we used to stargaze? It was always so beautiful in your backyard, with the sky lit up so bright.”

Griffin grunts and sadly I smile at my reflection because maybe those were just dreams, I made up in my head. Perhaps it all was.

“The last time I stared at the stars, I fucked Mandy Watkins in the tree house.”

Although he doesn’t sound victorious, only strangely tired, I turn to him sourly, my look surely fucking incredulous as he studiously watches the road. “I hope she gave you crabs.”

“Oh sweet, she gave me a blowjob, and man can she suck dick,” he says with a chuckle.

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