Lie to Me (6 page)

Pfft...manners were for dregs. Regents could do anything they wanted without recourse. He’d learned that one from his dad.

Last night his mom had imparted the news that Mackella’s father had died tragically in their mines while saving one of the Regent’s men. The miner’s lungs had burned out of his chest, and his eyes burned from his body. The man the miner saved had suffered severe wounds, but he’d live. A sacrifice they rewarded by offering the man’s wife employment in their home. Just one catch, she had a daughter that’d be tagging along. A nuisance in Stone’s opinion. He preferred being the only kid in the house. But when his mom asked a favor of him, he usually caved to her desires because he liked making her smile. This time he had to treat the new woman’s daughter kindly.

Stone liked the friends he had, and getting the chore of entertaining a commoner was a waste of his status. He didn’t care that her stupid daddy saved another, but he loved his mother and would do anything for her.

“Yes, ma’am,” Stone said obediently, while disliking the haughty way the urchin stared him straight in the eye. He bided his time, playing nice, showing her to the school, the meager room she’d share with her mother, all the while intending to teach her a lesson the moment they were alone.

Once they were finally unaccompanied, he’d turned on her. “You have to obey me in all things.”

She’d blinked up at him, her emerald eyes too green and too big for her face. And for one weird moment, he’d felt the need to protect her, until she said, “Make me, pretty boy.”

They’d spent the next week in a war of wills. Neither winning, but the pranks he’d plotted against her had been the most fun he’d had in a long time.

Then he’d caught her on the banks of the river that ran behind their house, and she’d been cupping a toad of all things. The girls he knew ran screaming from frogs, but not this one. Nope. She’d offered to share her new capture with him, and then belly-laughed herself silly when it peed on him.

They’d spent the next hour conspiring to secure it a home in an old aquarium he’d found among his family’s stash of relics. They plotted out a care regimen, taking turns and sharing the load of tending for the creature. A week later the amphibian died. Broken hearted, she’d cried, big huge tears rolling down her cheeks, and he’d held her as she wept against his shoulder.

––––––––

“I
hate it when you think about her.” James’s grumble jerked Stone out of his memories. “You get moody when she’s on your mind.”

Nothing to say to that, Stone poured a finger of cheap whiskey and tossed it back. The spirits burned a path to his gut. He despised economy liquor. Not because he was too good for the cheap brand, but because his refined palate preferred the higher grade. But when slumming it was best not to draw attention by buying the better stuff.

“What would you do if you discovered Mack Ellason
was
Kella?” James nursed his shot, eyeing Stone over the rim of his glass.

That was the million-fram question. “No idea.”

“You’d be the butt of her joke, you know, and everyone would know it.”

Stone grunted and downed another shot, relishing the burn because it distracted his thoughts from his wife.

“
If
she’s Kella, she had all of you thinking she was dead, while starting a new life with a lucrative business.”

“It’s all speculation anyway.” And again why would Kella leave him? Certainly she knew his intentions had been above par when he purchased her? Hell, he’d planned to grant her freedom in a few years. “I doubt it’s even her. Without an R-scanner we can neither prove nor disprove this line of thinking.”

James set his chair on the floor and leaned his elbows on the table. “My friend,
if
she’s Kella, you must consider she had help. A fourteen-year-old girl doesn’t succeed with something this huge on her own.”

He’d already given the same thought some consideration. It’d also be why someone of Mark Evans’s standing would know of her real identity because he’d been
very sure
Kella was
very much
alive.

“Yeah. I should’ve looked at her papers.” If they met inspection, he’d know someone had aided her flight because passable paperwork came with a high price. He’d been told she left with nothing but the clothes on her back, no cash and no jewels missing. “A young girl shouldn’t have survived the badlands. Not alone and not without help.”

“The Feeders should’ve gotten her.” James perched his chair back on two legs once again.

Stone nodded. The Feeders resided in the badlands and dined on human flesh. His dad was certain she’d died by their hands. They’d found her jacket and knapsack with her blood all over them. His dad had had the DNA matched just to be sure it’d belonged to Kella.

The grief he’d felt that night had been absolute. Stone hadn’t wanted to continue to live. Fifteen years old and broken by the loss of his best friend, he’d prayed for death. A year of mourning and he hadn’t been any better, until his dad sent him on a journey, with James five years his senior and in charge. James had taken him to a bordello, and purchased him his first woman. Thanks to the warm, and willing whore beneath him, he’d found a way to cope with his grief. He’d been addicted to pussy for years because it was the only way he could alleviate some of his pain. Taking over as Regent fed him a different outlet, a means to honor the woman he’d loved. He still drank too much, and got into too many fights with men who didn’t know his identity, and required pussy on the night of Kella’s death...but he’d managed to glue the broken pieces of his heart back together. Unearthing a maybe-Kella threatened to shatter all his hard work.

As if his friend read his mind, he said, “I got the pussy for later.” James nodded at Missy. “You just gotta take it, brother. She’ll help you get Kella off your mind.”

“Pass.”

James sighed. “You’re torturing yourself with what ifs.”

“I thought I loved her.” Of course he realized his infatuation with Kella had been puppy love. Right? He’d been too young to know what real love was. Not that he could easily identify love any better now. Would probably never know since he was scheduled to marry a woman he distinctly disliked. If he ever thought he was falling for another woman, he’d give her an abrupt exit from his life. Love was for fools, it created a weakness, and a Regent couldn’t afford limitations.

“Love...” His friend scoffed. “You can love Missy tonight and someone else tomorrow.” The chair hit the floor again, and he poured Stone a drink, then himself one. “I can see you’re getting your hopes up. Kella is dead. The R-scanner will prove it, and you’ll be maudlin again.”

“I don’t get maudlin, asshole.”

“Then take the pussy I’m offering you. Drown yourself in her body tonight, and remember alive or dead, Kella betrayed you.” James slid the glass toward him. “Kella said
fuck you
to your offer of support and love. Ain’t no double-crossing bitch worth crying in your whiskey over.”

Silence lingered between them as Stone stared at the amber liquid. James had a point. He’d heard the whispers among those of his station. Even dead, Kella had gotten free of his Quad. For whatever reason, she’d put herself in danger the very night he’d bought her to grant her security.

Stone knew James watched him, waiting for Stone to come to a decision. In the end, James was right. With her flight, Kella had shunned him and all he offered. Yeah, she hadn’t known the real reason he’d purchased her, but as his best friend, she should’ve known his intentions had been honorable.

Walking out of his life had been as good as kneeing him in the family jewels. Even if she had somehow survived her exodus, Stone Emmerson was
done
with Mackella Starke.

“Valid points.” Stone lifted his glass and offered his own toast, “All a man needs is pussy and liquor, and the occasional scuffle.”

Life wisdom he’d learned from James.

“Amen, brother.” James tapped his shot glass against the table before swigging the liquid.

Ignoring the hollow feeling in his stomach, Stone downed his spirits and proceeded to drown himself in liquor...and much later he drowned himself in Missy.

––––––––

K
ella wound her way through the city, taking several tight alleys and cross streets, hoping to lose any tail she might’ve picked up. Earlier she’d thought someone followed her. Never catching sight of anyone, it’d boiled down to a gut feeling.

She hadn’t seen Stone since he’d left her office a couple of days ago, but him showing up out of nowhere gave her an uneasy feeling. The way she saw it, being worried he’d put a tail on her constituted as being aware of her surroundings. Biggest problem now was, she saw ghosts everywhere apparently, phantoms shadowing her, while she held her breath waiting for Stone to show back up.

Just because she hadn’t spotted anyone didn’t mean she wasn’t being followed. After an hour of meandering through the streets, she stopped at a produce stand. The prices were too high for the average person. Most commoners either grew their own produce, or ate the government issued granola bars that supplied the same necessary nutrition. The granola tasted bad, like
real bad
, but when left with the gnawing ache of hunger, a person ate what was available.

The lucrative business of archeology allowed her the opportunity to splurge on occasion. An apple would suffice for dinner just as well as a government ration, and would taste better too.

“How are you today, Mr. Scott?” She took a moment to select the one she wanted. Scott was a sweet elderly man who still maintained his own garden at eighty-five.

“Better than average. And you, Miss Mack?”

“Can’t complain.” She handed him the frams for the apple, adding in a hefty tip. “Tell Mrs. Franny I said hi.”

Standing on the corner, she perused the foot-travelers as she munched on her fruit. Right off, she spied no one out of the ordinary. Her specialty was in digs, though, not spying, but she didn’t want to go further without making sure no one followed.

“Nothing equals the taste of fresh fruit.” Stone’s voice coming from behind jarred her.

Damn, he was good. She’d thought someone followed, but she’d never suspected him. As she bit into the produce, she turned to face him, and craned her head back. Taller than she would’ve predicted for his youthful stature, but she was fun-sized so that accounted for part of his height.

Juice ran down her chin, and he looked away quickly, running his hand through his overlong hair in a move she dissected as disconcerted. To further increase his discomfort, she swiped the juice away with the back of her hand. The uncouth manners would turn any spooner off.

“Tongue-gasms for sure,” she agreed, ruminating over her surprise that he kept his hair long. For a man of his status, the locks sent a rebellious message. They also gave him a younger appearance than his twenty-three years, and she bet some of the other Regents already refused to give him his due because of his age, womanizing, drinking, and fighting. But she could be wrong. Mostly she didn’t care. She really didn’t!

He groaned at her comment. “Honey, the only tongue-gasms I’m familiar with are the ones with my tongue buried in a woman’s pussy.”

Kella would’ve choked on her fruit had she suffered from a more delicate constitution. But why’d his comment make her hot between
her
thighs? The unwanted visual of his head nestled between her legs struck hard, and she imagined his chocolaty locks would tickle her skin. She shook her head in the hopes of clearing away the unwanted fantasy.

What was she doing? She didn’t engage in sex anymore because she loathed being used for someone else’s pleasure.

“Well...okay.” Lame reply, but he managed to tongue tie her over his remark.

Suddenly, he crowded her space and trailed his fingers across her cheekbone. Kella allowed the stroke until her brain kicked in and screamed he took liberties. She pulled away, but that didn’t deter him. Instead he gripped her nape and tugged her so close she could feel the heat coming off his body.

“There’s something about you. Something familiar and oddly appealing.”

Did he chase after everything with a vagina? “Not interested in dicks, remember?”

His gaze jerked to hers as if startled by her comeback. Stone chuckled, a male sound that resonated through her entire fucking body and fashioned funny, little swirls in her stomach. And had her clit weirdly pounding with her heartbeat.

“Right. Lesbian. Not buying it, sweetheart.”

She elbowed her way out of his grasp and put more than an arm’s length between them. “Don’t care what you buy, Regent. I’m particularly not interested in
you
.”

Deadpan, he stared her in the eyes and said, “I’m sure.”

His obnoxious arrogance should’ve been a turn off. It was with other assholes. She stared at him and resumed chewing on her apple. He returned her stare without blinking. With a mental sigh, she admitted if she were in his shoes she’d probably be just as arrogant.

“You want something in particular or are you torturing me with conversation for the hell of it?”

A slow, sexy grin curled his lips. “I told you I’m looking for Mark Evans.”

“You know where to find him.”

He frowned, focused on the pedestrians milling about the square, and shook his head. “Not willing to go that route yet.”

“For a man that spends an awful lot of time headlining the scandal sheets, you are strangely trying to keep a low profile.” That couldn’t bode well for her.

“Mack!” At least four different voices yelled out her name.

Kella grinned at the kids who approached from across the street. “Rog, you been watching out for Dezzy?”

Dezzy sucked on his thumb and clutched at Rog’s hand. Just mentioning his name had Dezzy grinning around his digit.

“You got something for us?” Pickle asked, a ginger headed girl who’d been found in a pickle barrel at the ripe age of seven months.

“Who’s the snot?” Rog glared at Stone, and Stone’s eyebrows flew up toward his hairline. The boy was big for his twelve years. He’d been on the streets since he was eight, and he was one of the toughest, but sweetest, kids she knew.