Fated Lies
Copyright © 2020 by Ella Miles
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Ella@ellamiles.com
Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs
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Contents
Lies Series
Prologue
1. Langston
2. Liesel
3. Langston
4. Liesel
5. Langston
6. Liesel
7. Langston
8. Liesel
9. Langston
10. Liesel
11. Langston
12. Liesel
13. Langston
14. Liesel
15. Langston
16. Liesel
17. Langston
18. Liesel
19. Langston
20. Liesel
21. Langston
22. Liesel
23. Langston
24. Liesel
25. Langston
26. Liesel
27. Langston
28. Liesel
Also by Ella Miles
About the Author
Lies Series
Lies We Share: A Prologue
Vicious Lies
Desperate Lies
Fated Lies
Cruel Lies
Dangerous Lies
Endless Lies
Prologue
Liesel
I’ve always wondered what my fate would be.
Would I someday fall in love or would my life be filled with hating enemies?
Would I spend my life alone or with a group of close friends to call family?
Would I marry or enjoy the single life?
Would I have kids or be focused on my career?
Would I find someone to love or spend my life regretting having loved and lost?
Would I live long or die quick?
After living as long as I have, my fate isn’t rosy. I’m destined to suffer every agony life has to offer—to die young.
For a long time, I thought I could change my fate. That I could take on the world and win.
I know better now. My fate is not to love. It’s not even to survive. My fate is to protect him…
1
Langston
I’ve seen death so many times that it’s as routine as breathing for me. Usually, death occurs at my hand.
Not this time.
This time it’s happening at the hand of a woman I thought would never see murder. I thought if I did the killing, it would keep her pure, innocent, and intact.
I was wrong.
Liesel Dunn is just as savage as I am. She can kill in cold blood as easily as I can, and that’s terrifying. There is no stopping her now. Now she’ll come for every single one of us.
Liesel pulls the trigger, and my world stops.
I didn’t think she had it in her. I really didn’t think she did. But the tears, combined with her pulling the trigger on one of my best friends, one of the only people I love, has me convinced.
Fuck…
Everything happens in slow motion and at double speed.
My lungs and heart slow down so much that my body is basically a standing corpse, not getting enough oxygen or blood. While Siren falling to the ground happens so fast that I don’t even notice where the bullet hits her.
Siren can’t be dead.
No.
There is no way I’ll believe it. I’ve seen death. I’ve seen close friends ‘die,’ but they turned out to be fine. So even though I’m watching Siren drop with my own eyes, it doesn’t mean she’s dead.
I drag my eyes to Siren’s chest. Her chest is rising. She’s still alive—for now.
I want to run to Siren. To stop her suffering, to help her stay alive, but Maxwell still has a gun pointed at me. Liesel still has a gun on Siren. If she hasn’t already killed her, another shot could. I have to make my next move carefully.
It’s impossible to think, though. All I can feel is Liesel’s pain. Unbearable, devastating, just lost the love of her life kind of pain.
She really did love Waylon.
That suffocates me. My own airway begins to strangle me with her tears, her agony pulsing off her in waves. It’s the purest thing I’ve ever felt.
How could she have loved him? It doesn’t make sense to me. Nothing I noticed between her and Waylon told me she loved him.
Except she fucked him like she loved him. She was going to marry him. She wouldn’t take his money. She wanted to be his equal. Maybe I was very wrong about her and Waylon’s relationship? Maybe he didn’t hurt her? Maybe he was trying to protect her from me?
I can’t process it. I’m overwhelmed by her pain and mine. We are two broken hearts who just lost the love of our lives.
No—I didn’t lose Siren, not yet. I can still save her.
Zeke has the exact same idea and is hopping in his chair with his legs still tied together, but his arms free toward Siren and Liesel.
I take the moment to disarm Maxwell as Zeke tackles Liesel and wrestles the gun away from her. She doesn’t put up much of a fight. She’s too broken—completely heartbroken.
The threat is over. Zeke and I both have the guns.
I return my gaze to Liesel as Zeke aims the gun at her.
“This is for Siren,” Zeke says.
My heart stops.
Zeke should get to kill Liesel for what she just did to Siren. Whether or not Siren dies, Liesel deserves it—not to mention her other crime…
I turn away.
I can’t watch.
But suddenly my body is flying. I’m not thinking straight. I’m not thinking at all. I run as fast as I can, knowing that I’m fast enough. There is nothing that could ever stop me from getting to Zeke, from stopping him from hurting Liesel.
“Get the fuck off me. She deserves to die,” Zeke yells, a man who hasn’t yet accepted what has happened to the love of his life.
“Put the damn gun down, Zeke,” I say as I point my gun at him.
I won’t let him hurt Liesel, my huntress. He can’t hurt her. He can’t kill her.
“No—no more games. She dies today, not however many months you want to wait to get answers. She’ll never give them to you. She dies today.”
Liesel is ignoring our fight. She doesn’t give a damn if she dies or not. She’s drowning in her own tears. She would probably prefer us to kill her and make the pain stop.
“Liesel isn’t dying today,” I say, still holding onto Zeke’s back. Zeke is twice the size of me. Physically, he’s stronger. The only way to beat him is to outsmart him, which in his grief just might be possible. But he’s not the only one grieving. My brain isn’t functioning at the moment.
Boom.
The gun goes off.
No.
No, no, no…
I look over at Liesel. She’s still alive. I don’t see any blood. I follow her gaze to my leg, and that’s when I see my own blood spilling out.
I exhale, thankful the bullet hit me. No one else I love will die.
I can’t feel the physical pain. All I can feel is the heartbreak.
Zeke sees the blood, and finally, I’m able to wrestle the gun from him.
“Why did you stop me?” Zeke whispers.
My heart clenches. Because I care about Liesel more than I will ever admit out loud. More than I care about Siren. More than one can care about another person. And yet, I still want to kill her for what she’s done.
My plan failed, in so many fucking ways. I need to rethink everything when it comes to Liese
l. There are so many pieces that I’m missing. At least now I have some of the truth. I need to lay it all out like an unsolved crime to figure out the rest of her lies.
“Go to Siren. She needs you right now,” I tell Zeke before he tries to grab the gun from me again.
Zeke slinks on the ground to where Siren lies. I think he was too afraid to go to her. Too afraid that he might find her dead.
I watch as he lifts her bloodied head into his large lap with his rough hands. He strokes her face and whispers something into her ear.
Her chest is still rising and falling.
Siren is still alive.
She has to be my first priority. I have to make sure she’s alive. That’s all that matters right now. I need to keep my family intact and alive. The rest I’ll figure out later.
I look to Maxwell, who isn’t much of a bodyguard unarmed.
I hold up one of the guns I now possess and aim it at him. He doesn’t even flinch. He’s prepared to die.
Interesting.
“Get Liesel off the boat—now. There is a small speedboat at the back. Take it.”
Maxwell nods, and then he calmly walks toward Liesel. I keep the gun aimed at him, unsure if he’s going to try something stupid.
He bends down in front of Liesel, who is in an entirely different world. She has no tears left; there are just dry streaks on her cheeks where her tears once were. But her crying won’t be enough to get her torment out. It will live with her for a long time.
I’ve felt the death of someone I loved before. It never leaves you. I feel for Liesel, I do. But right now, I have to make sure that I don’t have to endure the same level of pain with Siren.
Maxwell says something to her that I can’t hear. She doesn’t react.
He carefully slips his arms underneath her, afraid that she’s going to lash out or do something to get them both killed.
He lifts her up, cradling her honeymoon-style.
I continue to aim the gun at him, as my heart explodes, watching Liesel so vulnerable in another man’s arms and not going to her. How did things get so fucked up? How did the girl I used to do anything to protect become this?
Because I failed to protect her from the danger.
Maxwell carries Liesel past me, and I don’t turn to look at her. I pocket the gun, and then I turn back to Zeke and Siren. She’s still breathing, but there is so much fucking blood. It’s all over Zeke’s lap.
This isn’t something that Zeke and I can fix. Only the best surgeon in the world, with the help of a miracle, would be able to save Siren.
I run up to the top deck and wave Enzo down in the helicopter, knowing that’s the fastest way to get Siren to shore.
Finally, I’m able to feel the rage for the possibility that Siren might die.
That can’t happen.
I turn, just as I see Maxwell and Liesel disappear out of sight.
In a split second, I’ve changed my mind. Liesel has to die for what she did to Siren and for what she did before. I can’t wait much longer to kill her.
“One month.”
2
Liesel
My stomach heaves up and then slams down.
Over and over.
That’s what rough waves will do to you—make you lose your stomach until you eventually vomit.
Losing someone you love will also do it.
I’m sure I’m in shock. That’s what’s happening. It’s why I can’t feel anything. I’m numb to touch, to motion, to the sea salt splashing in my face.
“Twenty more minutes,” I hear Maxwell say, but his voice sounds far off in the distance. I can hear him, but his words don’t matter.
I just lost everything.
I lost everything I’ve ever cared about. Everything I’ve ever fought for. Everything I’ve ever considered loving—I lost it all.
I’ve lost a lot in my life.
My parents.
My innocence.
My child.
Langston.
But this time—it’s different. This time I had a chance to love what I lost. This time I fought to try and save it. And I lost.
I need to shut out the pain. I need to push it away so that I can focus on what I need to do next, but I can’t. It’s in every muscle, bone, and nerve in my body. There is no hiding from it. It’s all I’ll ever feel again.
I see the shore in the distance.
I’m going to have to function like a human soon, but all I can focus on is how the waves launch our tiny speed boat into the air and then slam us back down. That’s my life. I get one brief moment of happiness, of joy, of positivity—only to have life slam me with the worst thing imaginable.
I don’t want anything positive, not anymore. Every good thing has been taken from me. I don’t want hope. I don’t want love. I reject it all. I will not allow myself to feel anything close to love ever again.
The boat stops.
I look around and see Maxwell tying the boat to the dock.
I should get out, but I can’t move. My brain can’t even function well enough to tell me to stand. My mouth is incapable of speech. My eyes don’t really see beyond the haze.
Maxwell must know that because he doesn’t ask me to get out. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong with me.
After he finishes tying the boat, he climbs back in.
“I’m going to lift you out of this boat and get you in a car. Just tell me if that isn’t okay, but otherwise, I don’t need you to speak at all if you don’t want to.” His words are soft and soothing.
How does he know exactly what I need?
I give him the tiniest of nods, and then he once again lifts me gently like I’m a broken doll, and one wrong move would end me. It probably would. That’s how fragile I am right now.
He carries me to a car. I don’t know how he got a car here, but he did.
He lays me sideways in the backseat before he closes the door. Then he carefully walks to the front seat and starts driving.
He doesn’t ask me for a destination, and I honestly don’t know where I would tell him. He just drives.
I close my eyes, trying to get a moment to breathe. But all I can see is the blood on my bed, Waylon’s lifeless body, and what that means.
The car stops suddenly, my eyes fly open.
Waylon drove me back to my apartment.
“I’ve got you,” he says, lifting me out.
He carries me into the lobby before he realizes he made a mistake.
Flashes blind us as reporters swarm us with their microphones and cameras.
“Jesus,” he curses. Maxwell is sweet enough, but he’s not the brightest. Of course, the media found out that Waylon is dead. A man running for governor showing up dead in my apartment makes for an excellent story.
“Miss Dunn, were you upset that your fiancé was cheating on you? Is that why you killed him?” one brave journalist asks me.
Maxwell growls. The reporters take the hint and back up half a step, but that’s as much room as they give us.
“Maxwell!” Nolan shouts from across the lobby.
Maxwell turns his head as Nolan pushes through the crowd to us. “Take her to my house. We have a whole team setup there. You can’t go to her apartment anyway; it’s a crime scene.”
Nolan looks at me with disappointment, like this is somehow my fault.
Quickly, Maxwell has me out of the lobby and back in the car. This time, Nolan sits in the passenger seat, and they both discuss me like I’m not even here.
“Has she been like this the whole time?” Nolan asks, like he can’t believe how weak I am.
“Pretty much. She’s completely distraught. But can you blame her? She thought she was going to marry Waylon and spend the rest of her life with him. Cut her a break. No one reacts well in this situation.”
“Well, I need her to do a press conference soon,” Nolan says.
“Why? Waylon is dead. You don’t have a candidate to support anymore. Your job is done.”
“My
job is far from done,” Nolan says.
He’s heartless. I don’t know what Nolan has planned, but if I didn’t know that Langston killed Waylon, Nolan would be my number one suspect. He’s up to something—I just don’t have the energy to figure out what.
My eyes glaze over as Maxwell drives us away. Building after building passes by. Car after car. Tree after tree. None of it registers. I don’t even know where Nolan lives.
I see the city disappearing behind us, and yet, we keep driving.
The car slows as we turn down a car-lined suburban street. I don’t know how this is going to help keep me away from the press, but maybe that’s not the point. Maybe the point is to force me to talk to the media.
“Pull into the garage,” Nolan says.
I exhale a deep breath I’ve been holding since we turned down the cul-de-sac. I won’t have to talk to the press.
I don’t pay attention as Maxwell pulls the car into the garage. As soon as he parks, he’ll open my door and offer to carry me again, but I’m tired of being carried. I’m tired of relying on someone else. I know better than to trust another man.
As soon as Maxwell stops the car, I open my door and climb out. Nolan opens his door at the same time and walks toward the house door. I follow him inside.
“You okay?” Maxwell catches my arm just before I step inside.
I nod.
Reluctantly, Maxwell lets go of my arm, and I enter the house.
“I’m so sorry about your loss, Mrs. Brown,” a woman in a suit comes up to me and says.
I give her a tight nod as I push past her in the hallway and into the kitchen.