Page 21 of All Your Lies (All or Nothing #2)

eighteen

Alexa

W ith hesitance and apprehension, I cautiously step into Gage’s club. Memories of Halloween a week ago flood my mind, replaying the moment I learned the truth.

“Pursuit of Happiness” blasts through the speakers around the club as if there are a hundred people and not just the two of us. If not for that, I’m sure I’d hear my erratic heart pounding in my ears, matching the sensation of it thumping inside my chest.

The club is dark aside from the red lights illuminating behind the bar and the ember from the blunt currently hanging between Gage’s fingers.

He looks at home, in his kingdom of decadence and debauchery, while occupying one couch with his arms spread wide across the backrest. He points his head toward the heavens, though he reigns in the underworld below.

He’s the new boss of Chicago, after all.

Something I haven’t quite come to terms with, or maybe I haven’t come to terms with the fact that I begrudgingly agreed to marry him yesterday.

I was unaware of what awaited me when my dad summoned me to his office.

I knew it was something serious since we never meet in there.

What I didn’t expect was to see Gage sitting across from my dad. I felt blindsided by them, but it’s not like Dad was aware that Gage and I had already had our dumpster fire of a reunion. And worse, when my dad mentioned the marriage, I said yes, ignoring the screams in my head.

The thought of disappointing my dad is not an option for me. I’m determined to make him proud, and if it means a marriage I don’t want, so be it.

My heart hurts at the thought of the clinical and callous way I’m thinking about something that once made me smile. I wanted to have a blissful marriage like my parents have always had, with someone I can lean on when times get hard. Someone to be my best friend and partner.

I don’t know this new person in front of me, but a strong intuition tells me he possesses the ability to handle tasks effectively and fill in the gaps where I fall short. That’s what brings me here today.

I stop in my tracks, unsure if he’s noticed my presence.

He draws the blunt between his lips and inhales deep before blowing the billowing smoke out of his lungs and angling his head down toward me.

Smoke covers his face before it dissipates into nothingness and all that’s left is his handsome face.

The face that used to bring me solstice and warmth now brings me uncontrollable shivers of uncertainty and irritation, but worse, desire.

I rub my hands down my arms at the sudden chill and then stop. He doesn’t need to know his effect on my emotions.

A sense of safety still clings to me from this distance, yet, as soon as our eyes meet, I can feel the weight of his stare, a palpable heat that seems to strip away my clothes.

My blood boils with a need I’ve never associated with him before.

His eyes are unwavering as he takes a final, lingering drag from the blunt. The smoke curls around his face before he snuffs it and stands.

My instincts scream for me to take a step back with each advancing step he takes, but I hold my ground. His steps are leisurely, as if knowing his time with me is infinite and he’ll catch me.

This man used to be my best friend. Then he disappeared without a trace, only to return as a different person entirely.

No longer is he the boy who held a piece of my heart.

The one who made me playlists and held me when I felt sad.

No longer is he sweet, understanding, and quiet.

He’s everything dark, deviant, and calculating.

His sights aren’t set on being my friend again.

No, he wants everything I have to give and more.

He wants to own every piece of me.

It’s hard to reconcile the man standing in front of me as Gage, my best friend, the boy I loved, and the man in front of me now.

A man who’s been messing with me. Playing with me.

Stalking me. Lying to me. They feel as if they’re two separate entities.

The man in front of me needs a different name. He isn’t who he claims to be.

He’s in a suit that fits him to perfection. Black dress pants hang low on his hips, his suit jacket is off, and his white dress-shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off extensive tattoo ink. He’s much bulkier than I remember. His muscles now have muscle as if stacked.

I felt so idiotic when I didn’t realize who he was, but how could I? He’s different now. In both personality and appearance. Even his voice is deeper and graver than I remember it being.

I take two steps back because I can’t handle it any longer.

“Stop retreating, piccolo angello,” his gruff voice says over the music as he advances on me.

“Stop calling me that!” A wave of irritation washes over me. If he thinks we’ve returned to the pre-Halloween dynamic, he’s delusional.

I swallowed my pride and pushed down the hurt to come here today so we could talk and reach an understanding. Since we’re now engaged, we must project an image of strength and unity; any sign of weakness will be exploited by our enemies.

I didn’t come here to be chased through his fake forest or be called his little pet names.

“Calling you what?” He asks with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Little Lamb,” I say breathlessly as I glance back and realize that in my preoccupied state, I’ve moved away from the entrance and further into the club.

When I look back at him, he’s even closer to me.

“But that’s what you are,” he murmurs as he rubs the back of his fingers along my cheek. “My little lamb, and I’m the big bad wolf waiting to devour you. Claim you for eternity, like I should have done all those years ago.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

My insides heat, and a ball of emotion gets stuck in my throat. My instincts tell me to run, but the burning in my core has other ideas altogether. I hate him for how he makes my body want him, even when I’m pissed at him.

My back hits the wall with a thud as I inch myself into a very dark corner. It’s a very precarious and idiotic situation to put myself in.

He is a wolf hunting me, as he says. The dark, predatory gleam in his eyes shows me how delighted he is.

The intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with the earthy aroma of marijuana leaves me unsteady.

His body inches even closer to mine as I drive my body further into the curtains adorning the walls.

With his lower lip clenched between his teeth, Gage inches his right hand closer to my face. I close my eyes, not from fear, but because his gaze overwhelms me. Then, I feel his thumb delicately tracing the curves of my lips.

His earlier words do not resonate with his current actions. He’s being gentle and sweet—something I would have experienced with the Gage from before.

“This is the way it should have always been. You were only ever meant for me.”

My throat constricts as I swallow, and my eyes, glistening with unshed tears, flutter open. My earlier resolve comes back to me full force. The reason for coming to meet him today runs through my mind like a smack across the face.

Halloween comes rushing back, the chase, the revelation, the pain.

He withheld his identity from you.

He broke into your house; he played with you.

He lied to you.

I swat away his hand from my face.

“We might have to get married, but make no mistake, it will be a marriage of convenience and nothing more. I don’t like this new Gage.”

He takes a step back as if giving me the space I need as an expression I’ve never seen crosses his features before it disappears, and a wicked grin emerges.

My stomach does a somersault.

Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Why does my body enjoy this side of him so much?

He tsks. “The Gage you once knew died the second my brother, the one you were so intent on marrying, fucked me over.” He grabs the necklace he gave me that hangs around my neck from between my breasts.

He holds it as if it’s a priceless treasure before grasping the chain and turning until he looks at the engraved date.

“You will be mine. All of you,” he says before laying it back against my skin.

I watch his retreating form as he walks away without a backward glance, my breathing ragged from the encounter.

He isn’t the same Gage, but what he doesn’t understand is, I’m not the same Alexa either.

That evening, I zip up my skintight black dress, followed by my highest pointy-toed red high heels.

Jenna looks at me as she sits cross-legged in the middle of my bed. “Why are you doing this, anyway? Yes, Gage was a complete and total bag of dicks, but I don’t think this is the best idea.”

“I second that,” Rosie says from the doorway. “You were pretty upset when you got home from talking to him earlier. Maybe you should wait.”

“I can’t.” I sigh. “Gage thinks I’m just going to roll over and do whatever he wants, like before. Now that he’s technically my boss, I need to show him it will only be business between us. Arranged marriage or not.”

Rosie winces. “You’re playing with fire, but I’m behind you all the way.”

“Hear, hear,” Jenna cheers. “Who’s the guy, anyway?”

“His name’s Brad. He’s from accounting at work.”

“Yawn. Sounds like a total fucking snooze fest, if you ask me,” Jenna says.

“I didn’t ask you,” I say as I apply my red lip stain and then glance at her in the mirror’s reflection. “And who are you to talk with all of your secret outings lately? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you being gone all week.”

She shrugs. “It was just a bunch of errands for work.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jenna rolls her eyes. “So, after your date with Mr. Dull, who probably wears socks during sex and drives a Prius, what do you plan on doing? Because I’m thinking of drinks and more drinks to celebrate our girl’s special day tomorrow.” Jenna points at Rosie.

“I’ll be back later tonight, and then we’ll drink and eat our weight in junk food. I’m sorry we didn’t do more for your bachelorette party.”