Little Lies by Elena Reyes (ebook reader for laptop .TXT) 📗

I’m unable to move. I have no idea how long I stay with my eyes set on the area the constrictor disappeared to.

Again my phone rings and I ignore it until a loud banging at my front door accompanies it. Then, there’s the Ring alert telling me someone is at my door, and only then do I stand, noticing how much warmer the morning feels. My movements are on autopilot while my reaction is cold, eyes sweeping across the dead body before walking in the direction of the noise.

I don’t know how to act. I can’t even comprehend that this is real.

Is it, though? Could I still be asleep?

“This nightmare sure took a twist tonight,” I mutter under my breath, glaring at my front door as it comes into view. Someone is pressing incessantly on the doorbell, fist pounding, and I’m tempted to punch the person for making an even weirder dream more annoying. Without pause, I open the door and glare. “What now?”

At my outburst, Tero stops all movements, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“No.” A bubble of laughter escapes me; the sound is shrill and a bit manic. “There’s a dead body in the back, a snake tried to charm me, and I’ve completely accepted that insanity has overtaken me. This is all probably a hallucination, and you aren’t even here.”

“Can I come in?” He’s talking to me as if I were a scared animal. Unpredictable.

“Sure. Be my guest.” I wave my hand in a gesture to proceed, and then frown when I catch Theodore standing by the all-black SUV outside my door. “Why are you here?”

“You didn’t show up and didn’t answer your texts. Mr. Astor has been trying to get ahold of you for the past hour; it’s midday now.” He’s walking deeper into my home, almost following the growls of my dog, and I’m right behind him. His footsteps don’t make a single sound, something I find odd and reaffirms my belief it’s all a dream, but the presence now behind me refutes the thought.

Theodore doesn’t have to utter a single word, but I feel him. His touch seeps into my bones, making my heart race. His scent makes my mouth water, the temptation almost too great, and I catch myself before turning around and embarrassing myself.

There’s something about his presence that overtakes my senses—pulls me closer—and when his warm, large hand grips my arm and tugs me back a step, reality smacks into me with the force of a freight train.

This is all real. This. Is. Not. A. Dream.

I’m awake.

There’s a dead body...

“Oh, God.” A sob slips past my trembling lips as my legs threaten to give out. I’m shaking, teeth chattering as I try to explain—say anything to Theodore who’s holding me close to his chest—but can’t. The sounds leaving me are full of fear and sorrow, and I’m fighting against my fight or flight that demands I do something.

Anything.

To save myself.

“Breathe in, Gabriella.” The deep baritone of his voice breaks through my mental fog, but doesn’t break the invisible binds tightening around my neck as I recall the time I spent this morning watching a snake while a corpse lay at my feet. “Come on, beautiful. I need you to breathe and—”

“Snake.” Somehow I manage to utter the one word past my harsh breaths and the loud curse that comes from Tero. Not that Theodore moves us any further or asks his assistant what happened. Instead, he places his large palm across the center of my chest while pulling me closer.

“Breathe.” One word, and I feel the way his broad chest expands against my back, holding the air trapped inside his lungs until I follow, and only then he releases. He keeps me like this, pushing me to follow the cadence of his warm breaths, and I do without hesitation as if commanded to do so. “Good girl. Just like that...” his lips are at the crown of my head and I shiver when he leaves a tiny kiss there “...you’re doing so well.”

In the distance, I hear the sirens. They’re coming closer and closer until doors slam closed and heavy footfalls follow. There’s shouting. I can make out the click of guns and instructions are being followed, and yet, I don’t move from his embrace and continue to match my breathing to his.

I’m trapped by fear, and he’s my lifeline.

I need him to anchor me because I’m close to crumbling.

“Police!” a male voice calls into my home, his hard raps against the door making me whimper.

“Come in.” Theodore doesn’t stop his calming ministrations. Instead, I feel him turn his head in the officer’s direction. “My assistant is in the back and will fill you in. No one here is armed.”

“Is she okay? Does she require medical attention?” Theodore answers him with a shake of his head, but the man seems to need more and from me. I sense him come closer. I feel his hand hover on my shoulder, and my panic rises once again. “Miss, are you harmed? Can you tell us what happened this morning?”

“Dead.” Another sob. The small amount of relief in my chest once again tightens and I cough, scratching at my neck. “He’s dead. He’s dead and a snake—” Something in me snaps at that moment, the tethered string of consciousness withering into nothing, and when I meet the man’s eyes for the first time, everything goes black.

15

Gabriella

Music plays in the background, the cacophony of instruments creating a melodic cadence that most inside the room sway to. In pairs, they twirl in a circular fashion while spectators talk quietly amongst themselves dressed in their best garments—sizing up their counterparts.

Some with greed.

Some with lust.

Some with a calculative stare while I watch from my seat at the center of it all.

The choreography follows the light tone playing from a small band of musicians entertaining the crowd, keeping those within the circle twirling and counting steps, switching partners between well-practiced hand maneuvers