Page 98 of Liar

He wants me.

Everything that’s happened—his helping me, killing El Calaca for me, warning me away, watching over me, always being there when I need him most, protecting me more times than I can count—says it’s so.

Right now, I have no doubt whatsoever.

I close my eyes, struggling between falling and escaping while I can still stand. How many times have I been foolish enough to believe he cares? How many more times will he break my heart?

I fight for control, drawing upon every wrongdoing, every horrible thing he’s done, every lie.

Lesson learned, Luciana. If you allow this to happen, the hurt will be ten times stronger the next time he pushes you away.

I straighten in my seat and force myself to meet his eyes.

“But that man won’t be you.”

30

The car is barely in park before I’m hauled across the seat, into his arms, and then into a fireman’s carry over his shoulder. I squirm. I punch his back. I bite his ear. All I get for my efforts is a sound slap on my ass. Does he intend to carry me into the registry office and bribe an official into marrying us?”

Office lights illuminate the ground beneath us as he stalks toward the entrance, doing just that. Javier is right behind us, a witness to my downfall.

“What in the name of ...” the official cries out in alarm.

“Is everything ready?” the Liar demands.

“It’s as you wished. But is this the bride?”

“No.” I grind out. “There’s another woman—”

“Yes,” he cuts me off. “Before we begin, I’d like a few minutes alone with her.”

I can’t see the official’s face. And he’s got an eyeful, for sure. Except I imagine his expression mirrors the horror in Javier’s. No one dares say no to the Bastard, not even a government official on church business.

We’re ushered into a small room just off the entrance.

Two solid wooden doors close behind us before I’m set upright and on my feet.

I attack straight away. “I won’t go through with it.”

He doesn’t respond, and instead begins to pace. Back and forth within the small space, much like my brother does, running his fingers through his thick, black hair like he’s trying to reach a difficult decision. I decide to make it easy for him.

“Let me go. I’ll take a vacation. I just got my passport, so I’ll visit my friend in Florida. You don’t want to marry me.” My voice shakes with emotion at the end.

He stops dead before me.

“Would you have married me two months ago?”

I blink.

“Answer me.”

“That’s not fair. Besides, things have changed. You’re with someone else.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Liar.” I feel my nostrils flare. “I saw you.”

He sighs. “You saw what I wanted everyone to see. Especially Ignacio. I’m playing a game in which he sets the rules. Or thinks he does.”