Page 11 of King of Lies (Mayhem Manuscripts Season One: 1nf3ction #6)

As penance for the move, Keaton forced my arm higher, the pain sharp enough to make me fear passing out.

“It’s me,” I gasped out, thinking that perhaps the defense had been the instinctive reaction of a sleeping man to finding someone else in his space.

Keaton would realize. He’d apologize, and then let me go.

“Oh, I know it’s you.” Not good news. Neither was the slur being miraculously gone after what had equated to only half an hour of sleep. It was like the previous night, only with the roles reversed.

Keaton’s breath was hot against my ear as he leaned in, the extra weight on the arm twisted up behind my back, sending another sharp burst of agony through my body, accompanied by a wave of nausea.

“You really thought you could get a soldier drunk?” He gave me a little shake that said he expected an answer.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Liar.”

The grip on my arm tightened as he forced it even higher. “You’re… going… to… break… my… damn… arm.”

“Aww… wouldn’t that be a shame?” It would. For me, anyway. “I’ll ask again. Did you think you could get a soldier drunk?”

“Yes…” There was no other answer I could give.

My reward was a slight loosening of his grip. A return from agonizing to just painful. “Do you know what we drink in the army?”

“No.”

“Anything we can get our hands on. We’d drink paint stripper if we thought we could get a buzz from it. So that gnat’s piss you were trying to pour down my throat was never going to have much of an effect on me.”

He’d been acting. Convincingly as well, the realization making me feel sick.

He’d known I was going to make a move, and he’d lain there waiting for it.

Damage control, my brain screamed. Come on.

You’ve faced worse odds than this and come out on the other side.

Look at last night when he thought he had the measure of you.

You showed him then, and you can show him again.

“I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. ”

“Do you?” I didn’t like the thread of amusement in Keaton’s voice. “What don’t you think I’ve understood? That you tried to get me drunk, so I’d let my guard down? Or that you were going to steal my ring and then sneak out of here, leaving me high and dry?”

“I wasn’t.”

Keaton shifted position so his knee pressed into my back.

It gave him an even better grip on my arm.

Not that he needed it. “The truth, Tobias. Although we both know that’s another lie.

Whatever your name is, it’s not Tobias.” I stayed silent.

Lying brought pain. I was a fast learner.

“So why don’t we start with your name? Your real name. ”

I could tell him anything, and he wouldn’t know any better.

My mind had gone blank, though, all my previous aliases deserting me, and only one name hovering at the forefront of my mind.

What did it matter if he knew it? We’d go our separate ways.

Sooner rather than later, given how pissed he was at me, and then our paths would never cross again. “August.”

“August what?”

“Why do you need to know my last name?”

“Humor me.”

“Stoll. S-T-O-L-L.”

“Why are you called August?”

“Because I was born in August, and I guess my mother didn’t have much of an imagination.”

“Your mother that abandoned you?”

I winced. Talk about your lies unraveling right before your eyes. My silence must have spoken for me, Keaton letting out a laugh. “Jesus! That was a lie too. You really are a piece of shit, aren’t you?”

“I don’t owe you my fucking life story,” I said from between gritted teeth.

“Then you should have told me that rather than feeding me an absolute load of crap.”

“Can you get off me?”

Keaton snorted. “No, I don’t think I can. You can’t be trusted.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“I think you’ll go for your knife. You know, the one you sliced my neck with last night.”

That’s exactly what I’d been planning to do. “Hardly sliced. It was a nick. You did worse to yourself by grabbing it. And you broke into my room.” There was something of a sullen child in the way I said the last part.

Still keeping a tight hold on my arm and presumably ready to apply pressure if he needed to, Keaton ran his hand down each of my legs until he located the knife, divesting me of it in one simple move. “Do you have any other weapons on you?”

“No.” Keaton forced my arm up once more. “No. Jesus, no! I’m telling the truth.” Sweat dripped from my forehead onto the mattress. “I only carry an axe and a knife. That’s all I need.” Keaton was silent for a moment. “Now what?” I asked.

He gave a humorless laugh. “I think we’re at something of an impasse.”

“Let me go and we can talk,” I urged. “You can’t keep me like this all night. No matter how much of a kinky fuck you might be.” It was the wrong thing to say, the jibe earning me another few seconds of agonizing pain. “I get it,” I panted. “You’re in charge. Message received and understood.”

Keaton shifted slightly, giving the impression he was looking around the room, presumably to scope out where I’d left the axe.

It left me with nothing to do but lie there like an obedient doll.

If we were keeping score, Keaton and I were now even, both of us having fallen foul of underestimating the other.

And then the pressure on my arm was gone. I’d like to say I jumped up right away, but the truth was that after being forced into an awkward position for so long, with nausea still lingering, it took time to straighten myself. By the time I did, a crossbow bolt was aimed squarely between my eyes.

Keaton also had my axe tucked in his belt. I couldn’t see my knife, but I assumed that was somewhere on his person as well. “Is that really necessary?” I asked, massaging my sore shoulder to force some feeling back into it.

“You tell me. Have you got any more tricks up your sleeve?”

“Thanks to you, I can barely use my arm.” Keaton’s expression said he didn’t give a rat’s ass about that. “No,” I finally said when the silence had stretched on for too long. “No more tricks. I wanted the ring. You didn’t want me to have the ring. It’s all good.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Keaton said, his voice low.

“We’re going to get some sleep. Actual sleep rather than pretend sleep.

In the morning, you’re going to take me to where you’ve hidden the suppressants, and you’re going to hand them over for free with a smile on your face.

We’ll call it an apology gesture for trying to rob me. ”

It took work to keep my expression neutral.

I’d assumed Keaton seeing through the rest of my lies meant he’d see through that one as well.

But, apparently not. It showed how desperate he was to believe it.

Which left me with something of a quandary.

Come clean, or continue the ruse? Admitting it while I had a crossbow pointed at my head wasn’t an option.

That would be suicidal. “Right,” I said. “Tomorrow.”

Keaton backed off a step toward the door.

He pointed a finger at me. “Don’t move. If I come back and find you’re not in the same place I’ve left you, I will shoot you.

” I opened my mouth to point out that if he shot me, he’d never know the location of the suppressants, but Keaton beat me to it.

“In the leg,” he said. “A limping man can still travel. It just fucking hurts.”

With his threat still ringing in my ears, I stayed on the bed when he disappeared through the door.

He had the knife, the axe, and the crossbow, so leveling the odds wasn’t happening.

He’d also taken the candle with him, plunging the room into darkness while I waited, with only the sound of my breathing to keep me company.

He was gone for only a few minutes. When he returned, it was with a length of rope in his hands that we’d found in the fire engine earlier. I eyed him curiously as he came my way. “Turn over,” he said. “Face down.”

“Oh, hell no.”

“Turn. The fuck. Over. I need to make sure you don’t go anywhere.

And it’s this, or a crossbow bolt in the thigh.

Make your choice.” I turned over. “Hands behind your back.” That was the last thing I wanted to do with my shoulder still smarting, but I did it, the don’t fuck with me vibes coming off Keaton too strong to disregard.

It also left me vulnerable to biters if any shit went down.

He made quick work of tying my wrists together, the army presumably having taught him a thing or two about knots. It was tight, but not so tight it cut into my skin. Apparently not satisfied it would restrict my movements enough, he also tied my ankles. “Why not just hogtie me and be done with it?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

I turned my head—the only movement left available to me—to see Keaton settle himself on the bed I’d previously made mine, the two of us having done an inadvertent swap. I envied Keaton the ability to lie on his back as he stretched out, crossbow resting on his chest. “Sleep well, August.”

My real name on his lips had me struggling for an appropriate response for far too long. “Fuck you.”

Keaton said nothing, his eyes closing. I wriggled, testing the limits of the bindings. Only after I’d come to terms with not getting free until Keaton released me, did I close my eyes. Sleeping trussed up like a turkey would not be easy.