Twisted Lies by Nora Cobb
Chapter 12
Astrid
You can’t sneak into the Pit while a fight is on, but during the week, it’s just an old, abandoned warehouse. Justin parks his Range Rover behind the dark, empty building on the side that doesn’t face the street. His light blond hair reflects the pale light from the moon, highlighting his refined profile.
“Do you play guitar?” I ask him.
His expression is indifferent to the question. “Yeah, why?”
I shrug. “You look like you would.”
“You want me to serenade you sometime?” he smiles teasingly.
I grimace. “Please don’t be that corny.”
“Why, Astrid?” He faces me. “Don’t you think you deserve to be romanced?”
I swallow as if he’s figured out my desire. “I never really thought about it.” And I really haven’t. At my old school, if a guy liked you, he let everyone know you weren’t available, and then he’d show up at your house with a stolen TV. Wow, my life has changed.
I shove the car door open and get out, avoiding his inquisitive gaze. Pacing underneath the multi-pane windows, I look for one to break to get inside when Justin pulls out a ring of keys. I gawk as he opens the back door by the changing rooms.
“We decided not to use a keypad or cards,” he explains, “The locks are easy to break in.”
“Like we’re doing now?” I smirk.
He wraps his arms around my waist. “How are we breaking in when I have the key to the city?”
I smile and wrap my arm around his waist as we stumble into the building. He heads over toward the office where the rich kids hide out. I look at our reflection in the glass and smile. “I’ve never been in here before to watch us get beaten up.”
“Watch us?” he asks. “Club members shouldn’t fight.”
I don’t answer him. Grinder was right. I’ve been placed on the opposite side. I wasn’t consulted, but it was done. I stepped over the tracks into a strange new world, and I better get used to that fact.
I walk over the threshold in a state of awe. The inside of the office looks nothing like the rest of the Pit. It’s spacious with dark leather sofas and widescreen monitors mounted on the walls. I assumed they all crowded in front of the two-way mirror to watch the fights, but they obviously don’t. They relax on overstuffed couches and chairs and watch us battle it out on the screen.
I turn around when Justin turns up the dimmers, and my jaw hits the floor and bounces. “Look at that fucking bar!” I squeal.
The back wall of the entire room is a fully loaded bar of name-brand liquor. I grab a bottle, and it’s not the cheap vodka that burns chapped lips. This is the expensive stuff. I take the cap off a whiskey bottle and take a sniff.
Justin laughs. “You can take a sip if you want.”
I put back the cap and shake my head. The refrigerator has a glass front like a cooler in a store, and maybe I should just stick to those. Justin takes down a bottle of tequila in a glass skull from a high shelf. That stuff is valuable, and it goes down smoothly. That won’t burn my throat.
“Let’s have this,” he says.
“Won’t someone complain when it’s gone?” I ask.
He scowls at me. “There’s a cover to be in this room. I’m entitled to anything in this room, and so are you.”
Nervously, I look away, and he uses his fingertips to tilt my face back in his direction.
“You’re entitled to anything in this room,” he says.
“I’m not entitled,” I snap, backing away.
“Why?” he asks, “Because you didn’t sweat to earn money to pay for it? Little girl, you have a lot to learn about being rich.”
I turn away and look at all the pricey stuff surrounding me, all the things they enjoyed while I was out there in that ring like a savage. And the crowd was herded into a warehouse like animals. Shoulder to shoulder, sweating and screaming while they watched Rome burn, sipping fine wine.
Justin touches my shoulder, and I spin around. He waits for me to take the shot of tequila out of his hand. Now, I know how Adam felt when he saw the apple. I grab the shot and down it as he downs his. I close my eyes as it smoothly descends, igniting my insides. I can feel it as it moves through me, and I close my eyes.
“Want another?” he asks.
I shake my head, looking around again. “What’s behind those doors? Is it a bathroom?”
“The two doors in the corner are the bathroom, but this isn’t.” Justin smiles and pulls me by the hand to a closed door on the wall facing the mirror. He opens it, and in front of us is a king-sized bed. My mouth opens in amazement as I look at the mirrors on the wall and a huge glass vase filled with condoms to the rim on a bedside table.
“What goes on in here?” I ask.
He laughs, and I take a step away from him, shaking his hand off my wrist.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I backpedal furiously, “I wasn’t expecting this. That’s what I meant.”
I don’t belong in here with the leather furniture and hundred-dollar tequila shots. Without a word, I walk out of the room and stop in front of the ring.
“I didn’t bring you here to bed you,” he says, standing beside me.
I scowl at him, wishing he wouldn’t lie. “Then why are we here?”
By the hand, Justin pulls me back into the room and escorts me to the bar. I slip onto a tall stool, resting my feet on a chrome bar. He walks behind the bar, and his keys unlock a drawer underneath the bar. He pulls out several notebooks, fancy ones with hard covers, the kind Terri writes in. I open one and stare at the columns of numbers.
“You wanted to learn bookkeeping,” he asks, “Well, we should start with the debt.”
“Debt?” I ask.
“These are the records of what everyone at Stonehaven owes us,” he explains. “Down to the last penny.”
As my finger passes over digits that would pay for college tuition, a house, and a new car, I gawk openly. “This is a lot of money.”
“This is why Pierce doesn’t want you to fight,” he says, “When you fight, the house loses.”
I look into his eyes solemnly. “Pierce wants me to fight a girl that will knock the shit out of me,” I tell him.
“The house will win if she can beat you.”
I thought he was an ass, but he’s a calculating ass. “Oh, she can,” I reply. “Grinder says people want me to lose.”
Justin frowns, and the concern reaches his eyes. “I’m sorry, Astrid.”
“Remember, we don’t do pity well,” I reply.
He grins. “You’re not what I thought you were.”
I look at him coldly. “A slut?”
He nods. “Yeah, and a dumb one.”
I shake my head, eyeing him like I want to give him another slap. “You don’t want to know what I thought about you.”
“I can guess that it wasn’t flattering or kind,” he replies, “I want to apologize for what happened in Wyatt’s room.”
“I thought you had already done that?” I ask, opening another book.
“No, I said I ought to, but I hadn’t. I’m sorry, Astrid. It wasn’t low class. It was no class. And I shouldn’t let Pierce wind me up.”
“Why do you let him?” I ask while reading the names. My gaze pauses on Professor Getz. “I’m not asking to poke at you, but really, the guy’s a dick.”
Justin leans against the bar and peers down at the open page before closing the book. “When we were in the sixth grade,” he says, “I was shorter than Pierce by a foot. I hadn’t grown much, but Bryce, Wyatt, and Pierce had a growth spurt over the summer. They came back to school, looking down on everybody, including me. You know how Bryce and Wyatt are. They left me alone. But Pierce used me as target practice. I haven’t forgiven him. And when I finally shot up in height, I went after him. Even then, it was a draw, but he never tried it again.”
“He knows where your goat is tied,” I reply.
“My goat?” he asks.
“My mom says that,” I explain, “They can’t get your goat unless they know where it’s tied.” I glare sharply as Justin smirks. “If you say that’s quaint, I’ll kick your balls.”
He winks. “Quit talking dirty to me, sweetie.”
I laugh as he locks the books up. “I have copies of the pages on my phone. I back up everything. We can sit down, and I’ll show you.”
The private room is uncomfortable, as if I’m trespassing, and I wander back out into the warehouse and look up at the catwalk. “The white couch is gone.” I point to a black couch in its place.
“Bryce switched out all the furniture. Everything is in the dumpster out back,” replies Justin, “Pierce had some girl blow him on the old couch.”
I cringe. “So, what makes him think it won’t happen again?”
“Because Bryce purchased dark leather and told Grinder to hire someone to keep it clean.”
“Bryce doesn’t like Pierce either,” I tell him, climbing into the empty ring, and he follows.
“Nor Wyatt.” He watches me for a reaction, but I only stare back.
“So, why do you guys hang together?” I ask.
Justin pushes me tight against the ropes while staring into my eyes. “I have to teach you a lot more besides bookkeeping.”
I slip out from under his grasp and run toward the other side of the ring. He follows me as I slip underneath the ropes and head for the catwalk. We climb up, and I toss myself onto the new leather couch. It’s sleek chocolate brown with big arms and so soft. I could slide in between the seats and get lost like loose change.
“This is nice,” I moan, closing my eyes.
He sits beside me. “You want to mess it up?”
I bite my lip. Temptation is lowering my defenses as I look into his deep brown eyes. My hand trails down the front of his jacket, and I feel the hard planes underneath the soft fabric.
“It could be our little secret,” he whispers, his lips hovering over mine. “Our way of getting even.”
“Could you draw me first?” I ask sweetly, “I want a picture so I can remember the moment.”
Justin lifts himself off me. “I have to get some paper. Would it be presumptuous to bring back a condom?”
I tilt an eyebrow. “Is that how you chat up a girl?”
“Only the entitled ones,” he replies.
I lift my nose in the air. “It would be going too far, sir, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try something else. Did I do that right?” I ask him, winking, “Did that turn you on?”
He leans down and kisses my cheek softly. “Willingness is a big turn-on to me.”
Justin hurries down the steps, and I walk over to the rail, watching him as he pulls his keys out of his pocket. “Hey!” I shout out. I pull my sweater over my head. “Hurry up.”
He stares at me as if he’ll never get tired of seeing me strip. He unlocks that door and disappears as I walk back over to Bryce’s clean and precious couch. Maybe I’m going too fast. Even at Monarch, I’d make a guy wait longer than a month. But Justin’s drawings hooked me. I’ve never seen myself the way he sees me. Someone worth pleasing and impressing with kind words and hungry kisses. But should that be enough? His footsteps move quickly up the steps, and Justin reappears with a hardcover book and the tequila.
I smile. “You’re going to draw me in one of the books.”
He nods. “I’m going to draw two pictures—one for you to keep and another for Bryce to find.”
I smile, delighted with his scheme. “How should I pose?”
“Ever hear of Helmut Newton?”
I shake my head.
“I’ll show you his work someday,” he continues, “He photographed strong women in a way that reminds me of you. I want you to pose as you are. Strong, regal, and in control.”
I smile, convinced that I’m doing the right thing being with him. Appreciation is something I’ve rarely received though I’ve given it. “Thanks,” I reply, “I’ll try to remember how that felt.”
“Pretend you’re a warrior princess,” Justin opens up the bottle and hands it to me. “It’s your enemy, and you’re drinking wine from his skull.”
“That’s a dark thought.” I press myself against him. “It gives me chills.”
“I’m an artist, and my creative right is to be weird.” Justin pushes me away. “Art first, and love later.”
My bra falls away, and I hope it won’t slip through the grate. I push my skirt down my hips and let it drop to the floor as Justin watches. I stand almost naked, watching his eyes savor my toned body. Fighting and running isn’t a way to stay slim or look sexy naked. I work my body to give my emotions a way out of my head. Looking good is a perk I rarely consider.
The leather doesn’t stick to my skin as I sit up straight and drape my sweater over my lap. Crossing my legs, I hold the crystal skull firmly in one hand as if I’m seated on a throne.
“Perfect,” he smiles.
Justin sits cross-legged with the book in his lap, drawing feverishly, glancing at my body and then studying the page.
Something changes as I sit there exposed but above the room. Being in control isn’t such a strange thing to conceive. My gaze takes in the ring below me as I imagine Grinder asking me for my approval as I pick the fighters, and I pay everyone their fair share. I sit taller as my imagination takes my mind to places I didn’t think I could go before. My plans are no longer vague as they gather purpose.
Justin holds the book up, showing me the drawings, and my mouth curves into a wide smile.
“You’re an amazing subject.” Justin flips back and forth between the drawings. He hands the book to me. “Keep the one you want.”
The image that I dreamt of is in my hands, and it confirms that not only do I deserve more, but I can get it. I tear the first page out carefully, balancing the book on my lap. Justin takes the bottle and another swig. Sitting beside me, he tosses the book away and nuzzles close to me, placing his mouth against my neck. I don’t pull away from his hand on my breast. The buzz is enough to relax me, but I know how far I want to go. Just far enough.
“Let me taste you,” he whispers.
I place my hand on his jeans and slowly move my fingers down until I feel his hard bulge. I barely remember how it looks because that awful night is fading into a memory. This moment will replace it. I tug at his belt, but he stops my hand.
“Not yet,” he watches me, “I want a taste first.”
He gets on the ground between my legs and places his hands on my knees, pushing them apart. My breathing picks up as I lean back, opening myself to him. His mouth presses against my thighs as I close my eyes, and his breath leaves a trail along my bare skin. His lips press against me tentatively.
“You smell so good,” he moans, “I want you to forgive me completely.”
My fingernails dig into the couch as my hips move off the seat. Justin holds onto my hips as his tongue continues to explore me. His mouth covers my pussy as his tongue slides over me, into me, teasing me. A tingling awareness spreads over my skin as my breathing becomes ragged. His lips touch me gently as my fingers dive into his hair. I tug him back slightly, not wanting that sensation to disappear too quickly.
I gasp hard as my hands let go and grip the arms of the couch until my nails leave crescent marks. His tongue embraces my clit in circles, flicking it and sucking the right spot in between his soft lips. I shout as he tastes me again and again, and my body shakes in his firm hold.
Gasping, I open my eyes, staring down at Justin. He stands and sits beside me, wiping the tears off my face with his thumbs. He kisses me, and I taste what he wanted so badly. I lick his mouth as he sucks on my bottom lip. My body starts to tremble again. And I wonder if he has a condom.
Justin takes my exploring hands off him.
“What about you?” I ask.
“Next time,” he whispers, “when I paint you.”
