The Lies that Bind Us: Part One by CM Wondrak

Author:CM Wondrak [Wondrak, CM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen – Charlie

I was in daze as we got back to my car, and I was able to say nothing as I got in. Once Brett was inside, I started her up and we were on the road, driving back home. My hands on the wheel felt strange—clammy, almost. It was like the ghostly sensation of Brett’s hand around mine lingered, reminding me of what just happened.

I was shocked. Stunned. Flabbergasted and stupefied. Whatever word you wanted to use to describe me in that moment, it wasn’t enough.

Brett had kissed me in front of Zak to try to get him to believe we were together. As if coming over to us and holding onto me, holding me so close to him, wasn’t enough, he had to go and put on a show for Zak by kissing me so hard my head spun. Hell, by the end of that kiss, a part of me buzzed with the notion that we were together.

But we weren’t. We couldn’t be. We could never.

Brett didn’t say anything during the drive. He’d taken off his sunglasses and set them in one of the cup holders in the center console, and it looked like he kept flexing then relaxing his fists over and over, a cycle on repeat. I didn’t know what was going on in his head, nor could I see his face; it was turned toward the window.

This wasn’t how I thought tonight was going to go. Not at all. I’d thought… hell, I didn’t know what I thought would happen, but it certainly wasn’t that. Kissing Brett—the guy was nice to look at, but I had absolutely no interest in him.

I mean, the guy was a freaking serial killer. I wasn’t one of those girls who pulled up a blanket and made some popcorn every time a new serial killer documentary rolled out on Netflix. I didn’t obsess over them. I thought the things they could do, the crimes they committed, were horrible, and that they deserved to rot away as they spent the rest of their lives in prison.

I didn’t have a thing for serial killers. The only reason I didn’t turn Brett in was because he could help me, because he could do things I couldn’t do myself. I wasn’t a killer. I couldn’t… there was no possible way I could be strong enough to kill my stalker.

The line between right and wrong had never been more blurry. Everything was hazy, and I was well aware my thoughts ran in circles. I could never condone killing, but here I was, driving home with a serial killer in my car, having just kissed that same serial killer, all because he’d pretended to be my boyfriend tonight to try to get my stalker, who I wanted him to murder, out of the picture.

God. What the fuck was wrong with me?

We were about five minutes from my parents’ house when the mental haze cleared, and I was able to view it all through a clear lens.

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