Crown of Lies (Truth and Lies Duet #1), Page 5

  I scrunched up my face as I screamed internally.

  I’d gone through school without boyfriends of any kind. I’d stolen a single kiss on the dance floor of my high school prom, but it hadn’t included tongue. No boys had braved my father to ask me out. I was light years ahead in experience of managing and running a company, but so ill taught when it came to sex.

  Blowjob?

  No way did I want to do that. I had no idea how. And the idea of sucking on that part of a man made me want to vomit on my dirty sneakers.

  But what I wanted no longer mattered.

  My knees screamed as they pushed me to the ground.

  I daren’t look up.

  Baseball Cap ducked with me.

  Sitting on his haunches, he smirked. “Before we show you ours, you have to show us yours.” Before I could argue or move, he ripped off my bomber jacket and tossed it into the darkness behind him. He tore at the off-the-shoulder t-shirt until it hung in tatters, revealing my black bra.

  “Let’s see what your tits are like.”

  Everything shut down as his hand moved forward to cup me.

  I turned inward.

  I tried to delete what was about to happen.

  Only, he never connected.

  A blur in the dark materialized like a phantom.

  A man’s grunting erupted.

  Adidas fell backward, yanked by an unseen force. Baseball Cap whirled around, his fists up, ready to fight. “Who the fuck is there?”

  Adidas groaned as a shadow connected with his stomach then with his jaw. I blinked in disbelief as the apparition stepped into the light, revealing another man with a black hoodie over his head.

  He didn’t introduce himself.

  He twirled around and kicked Adidas in the chest, sending him careening to the dirty ground.

  The new guy turned and locked eyes on me. Beneath the gloom of his hoodie, his intense gaze tangled me into knots. For a split second, my heart kick-started from fear to relief then sank back into terror.

  First, there were two.

  Now, there were three.

  I wasn’t safe.

  Even if the newcomer seemed to fight on my side.

  Scrambling to my feet, I pulled at the ruined pieces of my top.

  The new guy followed my torn clothing, eyeing my bra. His jaw clenched and a low growl echoed in the alley. Whatever had sewn us together for those few seconds snapped.

  He launched himself at Baseball Cap.

  He tackled the wannabe rapist to the ground, punching him once, twice, three times in the stomach.

  They rolled around, legs kicking, arms whirling until the hooded figure swung a well-aimed sucker-punch right into the nose of Baseball Cap.

  The man dissolved from hooligan to helpless. His arms and hands came up to shield his face. His mouth bloody and breath ragged. “Fuck, we give, we give. Stop!”

  Immediately, the hooded figure clambered to his feet. Wrenching a hand over his face, he grunted. “Second time I’ve caught you assholes. There won’t be a third.”

  Adidas pushed off the concrete with both hands, climbing unsteadily to his feet. “Fuck you.”

  The hooded figure stepped forward and, with a quick jab, delivered another punch into Adidas’s throat.

  “Ah, fu—” He collapsed to his knees, his hands around his neck, gasping like a lunatic. “I—I can’t—breathe—”

  To my horror, I smiled a little. I had no sympathy for him, but I shouldn’t take enjoyment from such violence.

  Should I?

  The hooded man pointed at Adidas squirming on the floor. “That was for being rude.” His leg came out again, connecting with the white jacket covering Adidas’s ribs. “That’s for being a cunt.” His face turned toward me, but I couldn’t see his features in the dark. Never looking away from me, he threw another punch at Adidas’s head. It wasn’t at full power, merely a swat—a telling off. “And that’s for her.”

  Stepping back, he crossed his arms. “Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”

  Adidas still hadn't learned his lesson. He spat blood, glistening black in the night. “Fuck you twice, man. You can’t scare us.”

  The hooded man took a menacing step closer.

  Baseball Cap dodged forward, nursing a sore arm. He held up a hand in surrender, some sort of chivalry coming through to protect his asshole friend. “Look, we’re done, okay?”

  The hooded man glanced at Adidas—the asshole who’d been moments away from stealing my virginity. His voice lashed out like a dark whip, demanding obedience. “And you? Are you done?”

  Adidas nodded profusely. “Fine. Sure.”

  “Good.” The hooded man held out his hand. Blood marked his fingers, but I couldn’t tell if it was from him or his victims. “Cough it up.”

  Baseball Cap scrambled backward, shaking his head. “Nah, no way.” He patted his pocket with a sick gleam in his gaze. “Nah, man. You take the girl. We’ll take the cash.”

  Hooded Man cocked his head. It was nothing more than an innocent move, but it dripped with threat. “Do you want to die tonight, Gio? Because I can arrange that.”

  Gio?

  He knows their names?

  How?

  Adidas scoffed. “Do you know who you’re fucking talking to?”

  Hooded Man glowered. “I know exactly who I’m talking to and wouldn’t your fucking father be glad to hear what I have to tell him?” He pulled his hoodie higher over his face, making himself featureless, a black void. “If you don’t stop and call these fucking games quit, I’ll do worse than beat you.”

  What the hell is going on?

  I couldn’t decide who was scarier: the two men who’d grabbed me or this savior wrapped in black.

  The hooded man’s voice was a menacing growl—a mix between gravel and velvet. His body was lithe beneath the oversized hoodie and holey jeans. He looked like a skater-rat—the poster child for rebellion and lawlessness.

  He had the air of one of our in-store billboards with a rough and ready skater in a half-pipe selling baggy jeans and chain belts with a spray can in his hand. When I’d approved the marketing, I’d feared it was a little ‘rough’ for our clean brand for teenagers. Turned out, that banner was tame compared to this man.

  Baseball Cap stepped forward. “Hand over the money, Sean.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Adidas grumbled, reluctantly pulling out my cash. I didn’t care about the money, but if the faceless savior wanted to return my property, I wouldn’t argue.

  Hooded Man held out his hand.

  Sean, the Adidas punk, angrily shoved the dollar bills into his grip. The second the cash changed hands, it vanished into the hooded man’s jeans like a magic trick.

  He turned to me, his face still a dark secret. “Did they steal anything else?” His gaze traveled down my front where I held my torn top together.

  I flinched under his inspection, wishing my bra didn’t peek out behind my hands, and my bare stomach wasn’t so on display. My head pounded from the punch, and the pungent whiffs from the alley didn’t help my swirl of nausea.

  When I didn’t reply, Hooded Man pointed at my destroyed top and discarded jacket on the floor. “Did they? Steal anything else, I mean? They tore your clothes. Do you want me to ruin theirs in return?”

  My eyes widened. “Wh—what?”

  His head tilted, hearing me speak for the first time. A low chuckle came from the blackness of his hood. “I can make them strip and run home naked if it would make you feel better.” He waved at my tattered top. “You don’t need to hide. I won’t let them hurt you. You’re safe with me.”

  The midnight rasp in his voice negated his promise. He was the safest of the three—for now. But he wasn’t safe compared to my father or staff. He was the exact opposite of safe.

  I swallowed, standing proudly despite my lack of modesty. “I have no desire to see such vermin naked.”

  Adidas sneered. “You want to see my cock, bitch. Can’t deny that shi
t.”

  I gave him a look I wished could melt his skin off his bones. “Believe me, I would rather go blind.”

  Baseball Cap bared his teeth. “That could be arranged.”

  Hooded Man took a step toward me, putting himself between them and me. “As entertaining as this is, I don’t want to commit murder tonight.” He glanced at me then at the two men who would’ve raped and hurt me if he hadn’t shown up.

  What am I doing?

  Antagonizing criminals? All for what? A little dignity after having my self-worth threatened?

  Holding my chin high, I said, “They stole my I.D card for work. I would like that back.”

  So they can’t break into Belle Elle and I’ll have yet more explaining to do.

  Hooded Man turned to Adidas. “You heard her. Give her back the I.D.”

  Adidas cursed under his breath but pulled out the lanyard with my tag from his pocket. The second it switched hands, it once again joined my vanished cash in a blink.

  Hooded Man closed the distance between us, turning to face them as he did. He protected me with his body while confronting them. “That’s it. Run along.”

  Baseball Cap pointed a finger. “We’ll get you back.”

  Hooded Man shrugged. “You keep being scum, and I won’t be so nice next time.”

  “You keep thinking you’re untouchable and we’ll go out of our way to prove you fucking bleed like the rest of us.”

  Hooded Man stalked forward, his hands splaying before curling into fists. “We can prove you wrong, right now.”

  “Fuck you—”

  “I prefer women but thanks for asking.”

  Baseball Cap charged. “I’m gonna kill—”

  Adidas grabbed Baseball Cap’s arm, stopping him mid-stride. “Come on, man. We’ve got better things to do.”

  Baseball Cap fought him, but then a slow smile spread his lips. “Yeah, you know what? We do.” He smirked with evil. “Much better things.” Blowing me a kiss, he said, “Pity we didn’t get to have our fun, office girl. Bet you’re torn up you didn’t get to see what we wanted to give you, huh?”

  Hooded Man crossed his arms. “Fuck off—”

  He’d fought one battle for me. I wouldn’t let him have the credit on this one.

  Stepping around him, I let go of my tattered top and stood in my bra-naked glory. The fear. The adrenaline. The pride. “You’re right that I’m an office girl who has no experience in fighting the likes of you. But you’re wrong that I wanted to see your shrivelled-up jerky sticks.”

  Baseball Cap snarled. “You bitch.”

  “No, you don’t get to call me that. You’re the bastard. You’re delusional and a disgrace, and if you think it makes you more of a man by trying to rape me, I’ll do you a favor and cut off that jerky you call a cock and cook it for you.” I smiled sweetly. “Along with office duties, I’m not bad in the kitchen, and you and your salami are only fit for frying and feeding to the dog.” I held up my hand. “No wait, I wouldn’t feed you to my dog, and I don’t even own a dog.”

  “Ah, fuck.” Hooded Man darted toward me just as Baseball Cap launched himself at my throat.

  I stumbled back, only to slam into the arms of Hooded Man who spun me around, shielding me with his body. His fist came up, connecting once again with Baseball Cap’s jaw.

  “You can’t even take shit from a girl without needing to be an asshole?” Hooded Man cracked his knuckles. “She’s right. All you have in your pants is dried-up jerky.” He swallowed a laugh. “Run along now, before I actually give this girl a knife and watch her fillet you for her frying pan.”

  Adidas grabbed Baseball Cap for the second or third time—I’d lost count. Together, they backed up. Their eyes black as the alley we stood in.

  Baseball Cap raised his finger, pointing at both of us. “You’ll fucking pay. Both of you.”

  Then they turned around and bolted toward the street.

  Chapter Seven

  FROM ONE DISASTROUS situation to another.

  Silence fell in the alley.

  They’re gone.

  But he’s still here.

  My skin prickled with intensity from the hooded figure, standing dangerously lethal and so damn close. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to make eye contact or give him any reason to become the villain after being the knight.

  I looked at the ground. “Um, I owe you a thank you.”

  My naked stomach tingled as he scuffed a pebble and turned to face me. The darkness of his hood masked his features, but I felt his eyes lingering on my bra.

  The reckless confidence I’d had when facing down Baseball Cap and Adidas vanished. I snatched the ends of my torn top, pulling them closed. The broken material hid a little but not enough of the black lace or swell of my flesh.

  My heart bucked.

  Had he chased them off because he was a Good Samaritan or because he wanted what they were about to take? Despite his assurances he wasn’t like them...how could I be sure?

  “Look, whoever you are. Thank you for saving me. But I must insist you let me go.” I spotted the bomber jacket Adidas had torn off me and ducked to pick it up. Holding the black material in front of me like a shield, I said, “Step aside. Let me pass.”

  The glittering lights of civilization promised safety down the long tunnel of the alley. All I wanted to do was go home.

  Home.

  A taxi.

  I need money.

  Holding my hand out, I kept my eyes down. “Can I have my belongings, please?”

  “Your belongings?”

  His deep voice somehow avoided my ears and echoed deep in my belly instead. I shifted on the spot, a chill from him and the night sky painting me in goosebumps.

  He came closer, tipping his chin up. Shadows slunk back as if afraid of him as I clutched bravery and looked up.

  Everything about him was cloaked. “I won’t bite.”

  I flinched, doing my best to drink in his face so I could remember it—just in case I had to file a police report.

  Which I don’t want to do as my father must never know about this.

  His eyes and forehead remained hidden by his hood, but his lips were in full view. Firm and masculine with just the right amount of stubble that’d turned into a short beard. He was rugged, bordering unkempt.

  One hand vanished into his jean’s pocket. “Do you mean these?” He fanned the cash and my I.D badge.

  I nodded. “Yes, those. Can I have them?”

  He counted the bills. “Eighty bucks?”

  I tilted my chin. “It’s all I need.”

  Why did I feel like the biggest liar in history? I didn’t know what it was like to have only eighty dollars. I had unlimited funds. Just because I didn’t shop or had no one to lavish gifts with didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate the freedom of never having to look at a price tag.

  “Need to do what?” He cocked his head, the hoodie still covering his gaze.

  “If you must know. To taxi home.”

  “Ah.” He said it like a full stop. As if it made perfect sense to this evening of nonsense.

  I wriggled my fingers. “So...can I have it back?”

  He ran my lanyard I.D through his fingers. “Let’s talk about this first.”

  “What about it?”

  “Your name is Noelle Charlston?”

  “What of it?”

  “You’re named after Christmas.”

  I huffed. “I’m named after—” One of the richest founders in retail. I held my tongue. I didn’t need this rescue to turn into a kidnapping for ransom.

  “Named after what?” He danced the I.D over his knuckles with a dexterity that made my mouth go dry. A streak of blood marred the laminated photo.

  I stepped toward him, despite every neuron wanting to run.

  “My name is Elle. Just call me Elle, give me back my things, and let me go.”

  “I don’t think so, Elle. Not yet.”

  I froze. “Excuse me?”

  “Y
ou intrigue me.”

  “So?”

  “So, it’s not often someone intrigues me.”

  “Why?”

  He moved closer. His body heat was noticeable in the chilly evening. “Because I don’t normally take the time to actually talk to people. You’re an exception.”

  I didn’t know if I liked being an exception. Did that mean he might do other things that were an exception—like hurt me when he’d normally free me?

  Nerves made me shiver. Clamping down on such weakness, my hand lashed out and snatched my I.D card. “There. I’ve taken back what’s mine. You can’t get mad. It never belonged to you.” My eyes landed on the money. “Give that back, and we’ll go our separate ways.”

  He smiled. His teeth were straight and white in the dark scruff of his beard. “I don’t think so, Noelle Charlston.”

  “Elle.”

  “Okay, Elle.” He took another step, ungluing shadows from around him until only a foot separated us. I sucked in air as his black sneakers crunched on loose gravel and his hands came up.

  I stiffened, waiting for him to take what his runaway buddies had tried. Only, his fingers didn’t connect with me, they connected with the material of his black hood. Slowly, he pushed it away and let it fall, revealing his face.

  My lungs forgot how to work as I drank him in.

  Fierce eyebrows gave expression and authority to the intensity of his dark brown eyes. Dark hair bordering on black curled around his cheeks, forehead, and ears, speaking of wildness rather than tamed. His strong nose and refined cheekbones were perfect adornments to the beard bordering his lips.

  Hell, those lips.

  They were soft and damp and almost kind when everything else about him looked cruel.

  I’d been around men in the office, but all of them were either overweight, older, or gay. I’d never been so close to an attractive male similar in age and completely ruthless in violence.

  I stepped back, cursing the wobble in my knees. I wanted to put it down to fear, but my stupid heart said otherwise.

  I was attracted to him.

  Here of all places.

  Him of all men.

  My body found his utterly appealing for the first time in my life, and I had no idea how to deal with that.