Little Liar (The Web of Silence Duet, #2)

by Leigh Rivers

To the book that nearly cost me my life. I won this time.

YASSS BISHH

Contents PART ONE 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 PART TWO 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 Epilogue 1 Epilogue 2

FINALLY, THE PROPER AMOUNT OF CHAPTERS!!

Malachi, I’m sorry I can’t be there for you anymore, son. I hope you can one day forgive me for leaving. You see, Daddy’s head isn’t a nice place, and he’s not good for you and your mother. I tried so hard, but you both deserve better. I wish I could choose you and fight the poison in my brain, but I can’t. I’ll see you again one day, but hopefully not anytime soon. Your new eight-legged friend will protect you, just like I know you’ll protect him. I suggest the name Rex or Spikey. Don’t be afraid of him. After all, you’re an arachnophile, just like me. Love, Daddy.

Awwww so cute. If only i didnt have arachnahobia

Rex is my only friend now. He’s silent. So am I. Mommy hates that I don’t talk to her anymore, but I like keeping things to myself. Everything I say always results in a slap across my face or her yelling at me. He’s the only one who talks to me now without using words. My best friend. My protector. My hero until Daddy comes home.

Poor Malachi :(

When I turn eight, I don’t get any birthday cards or a cake like the other kids in the orphanage—I sit under the bed with a drawing of my spider and imagine a crowd of people singing happy birthday to me, and we blow out candles that I draw. I close my eyes and make a wish. I wish someone would choose me.

Bro but hes so sweet. Ima cry

“Hi!” She’s grinning at me and says, “My name is Olivia. I’m seven!” She holds up seven fingers, and I mentally hold up eight. Hi, Olivia. I’m Malachi, I want to say or sign, but I just stare at her. “Do you think I look like a princess?” Mentally, I nod. But physically, I step forward. I like her—she doesn’t make me uncomfortable. She’s so happy compared to everyone else. And she’s happy to meet me. I tilt my head. Her smile drops. “You don’t like my dress?” Without thinking, because I want her to like me too, I lift my hands and sign, Please don’t be afraid of me. But the confusion on her face and the look she gives her mom tells me she has no idea what I’m saying. That’s okay. I’ll teach her.

ITS WHEN THEY MEET. AWWW THEY'RE SO CUTEEE

“He’s saying he’s sorry, sweetie,” the mom says. “He communicates with sign language.” “What’s that? I want to do it too!” My head lifts at her words, and a little ball of excitement grows in my chest, especially when the mom tells her they’ll teach everyone in the house. “Malachi will be comfortable in our home. He’s one of us now.” I hold back tears, blinking a few times as they lead us out of the bathroom, the dad’s hand on my shoulder, directing me out of the airport and into a car. I think they’re rich. Their car is huge and fancy, and the house we pull up to is a mansion. My eyes widen a little at the sight, then my attention is back on the girl beside me. I can’t stop looking at her. I haven’t felt this content since I had Rex, before he was taken from me. She won’t be taken from me. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be good. I’ll do as I’m told. I’ll be the kid they obviously needed to complete their family. Olivia. My new little sister. I couldn’t protect my mom or Rex, but I think I could protect her. I will protect her. Because she’s mine.

Awwwwwww :,)

Plus if her connection cuts, then I can rid myself of fucking pop music by some girl group singing about breaking up with their ex and be saved from the earache.

Therefore why im not a swifty and i agree(no offense to the swiftys out there)

I drop her like she’s burned me, and she catches herself before she topples in. She slaps my chest. “You asshole!” I have the sudden urge to grab her face and kiss her. It’s abrupt and absurd and new. I’ve kissed Olivia a million times, but not the way I want to right now. It’s wrong in so many ways. I’m attracted to my sister. I must be, right? There’s no way in hell I can’t be attracted to her—to me, she’s a masterpiece. Realization hits me like a fucking plane crash and makes me blink a few times and look away. My heart beats wildly in my chest at my bad luck. I always knew I was fucked up, but this? This takes the fucking cake. Dad wants me to go back to therapy and get myself medicated. Maybe I should—not for my twisted thoughts, but for the feelings I shouldn’t have for Olivia. Is there medication that stops you from wanting to kiss your sister? Before, it was all about protecting her—I always felt an attachment, but not like this. I want to kiss her the way boyfriends and girlfriends do. My breathing changes, and I’m so damn confused by the way I feel—she’s still too close to me, and I flex my fingers, needing to wrap them in her top and tug her to me, to smash my mouth down on hers, but I step back instead and swallow hard. She goes back to typing on her phone while I light another cigarette, refusing to look at her. She’s unaffected and none the wiser that her brother is fighting an inner war not to ruin everything by acting on impulse. We’re sixteen and seventeen...

REALL

I drop her like she’s burned me, and she catches herself before she topples in. She slaps my chest. “You asshole!” I have the sudden urge to grab her face and kiss her. It’s abrupt and absurd and new. I’ve kissed Olivia a million times, but not the way I want to right now. It’s wrong in so many ways. I’m attracted to my sister. I must be, right? There’s no way in hell I can’t be attracted to her—to me, she’s a masterpiece. Realization hits me like a fucking plane crash and makes me blink a few times and look away. My heart beats wildly in my chest at my bad luck. I always knew I was fucked up, but this? This takes the fucking cake. Dad wants me to go back to therapy and get myself medicated. Maybe I should—not for my twisted thoughts, but for the feelings I shouldn’t have for Olivia. Is there medication that stops you from wanting to kiss your sister? Before, it was all about protecting her—I always felt an attachment, but not like this. I want to kiss her the way boyfriends and girlfriends do. My breathing changes, and I’m so damn confused by the way I feel—she’s still too close to me, and I flex my fingers, needing to wrap them in her top and tug her to me, to smash my mouth down on hers, but I step back instead and swallow hard. She goes back to typing on her phone while I light another cigarette, refusing to look at her. She’s unaffected and none the wiser that her brother is fighting an inner war not to ruin everything by acting on impulse. We’re sixteen and seventeen...

WHOA

There’s a boundary that society created, stopping me from falling in love with my sister, and I want to tear that boundary to fucking shreds and keep her. I’ll set fire to it and everyone who stands in my way. I love Olivia, but I’m not sure it’s the same way I grew up loving her anymore. It’s stronger, violent, and I have a feeling if she ordered me to get on my knees and kiss her fucking feet, I’d do it. Anything she asked, I’d do.

“I hope he’s nice though. Imagine he’s mean? I’d need to send my big brother to kick his ass.” She’s giggling, but I’m still, silent as always, and I think I might pass out from rage. I’m imagining him in a body bag. Bloodied. Ripped to shreds. Diced and minced and pulverized. No longer in existence. No one will ever be good enough for Olivia.

MUWAHAHAHAHAH

Fuck. I just said that. I can’t take my thoughts back now—I want my sister, and I want her badly. I don’t know how I’ll manage it, but Olivia and I are going to be each other’s firsts in everything. Not yet, but in a few years when we’re old enough and fully understand how it all works. When Olivia’s ready, then I will be too.

Beautiful. The more I look at her, the more I realize how doomed I am. I’ve never had any luck—but she’s the rainbow I’ll fucking chase to win something more important than my own life. I want to kiss her. I want to know what the lip gloss feels like on her lips, to taste it, to make sure no one else in the world gets to know the feeling. Shit. Why is it getting worse? The need for her. Mom’s right. It’s wrong, but nothing has ever felt more right than when I’m around her.

Maybe I should just kiss her. I drop to my knees, chewing the inside of my cheek. A sudden weight is on my chest. How do I do this? How do I kiss her? I want to kiss her. So. Fucking. Badly. Unless we start slow. First base, I think it’s called. Can I see you? I want to add that I want to see her naked, but nerves win, so I leave it at that. Her brows knit together. “You can see me?” Cute.

She slaps my arm after I shake my head, and I grit my teeth, wanting her to hit me harder. Slap my face. Spit on me. Fucking pull my hair and call me the best big brother ever. Answer.

AYO SIR

Am I dreaming? Did the drugs I took last night put me into a trance? Am I hallucinating this all? Is Olivia… agreeing to this?

Lmao

She’s fucking with my head. She’s… killing me. I get up, figuring out what I want to say but not knowing how to explain it—she’s hurt me. She’s making me feel shit I can’t control, and I don’t like it. I hate myself for not being able to just tell her how I feel and why we should be together. Rather than running away, like I want to, I lift my hands to sign, but she obliterates every ounce of my confidence by turning around.

“Put your hand here,” she says, taking it and resting it on her cheek. “Or you can put your hands on their hips or in their hair. People like touch, especially while being kissed.” What do you like? For some reason, she’s speechless for a long second, and I want to narrow my goddamn eyes and tell her to answer carefully, but she only grabs my hand once more, my cock twitching as she places my hand on her throat. Her fingers squeeze around mine, and fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I like to be choked,” she tells me. “I like rough kisses that hurt.” I want to kill her. She screams as I flip us over, so I’m hovering above her, grasping tightly around her fucking throat as I smash my lips down on hers.

I’m starting to think I have an unhealthy fascination. She’s all I think about. Whenever something happens, I think of her. When I’m bored or busy or just lying in bed or hitting some weights, I try to imagine what she’s doing and if she’s thinking of me too. I’m definitely in love with her. Soon, I’ll make her fall in love with me too.

If I could talk, I’d tell him it was for Olivia. And if I could laugh, I’d do it while telling him she was fucking mine.

You’d think having been inside my sister more times than I can count, seeing her like this, basically naked with my blood on her, I’d be used to it. Nope—I’m still very much obsessed with her, even when she’s in her PJs, with knotted hair, and smelling like garlic or some other disgusting thing. What twenty-eight-year-old gets butterflies like this? Damn, I love this fucking girl.

Malachi’s arms are tight around my waist while I stare into the mirror and apply mascara to my lashes. The side of his face is pressed to my back while I sit between his parted legs. I keep thinking he’s fallen asleep, but then he tightens around me some more and groans with moodiness. His fingers play with the waistband of the sleep shorts I threw on after the shower because apparently sitting in a towel makes him feral. I slap his hand away when he tries to slide it between my legs. He lifts his head to glare at me in the mirror from over my shoulder. “Learn to be told no.” He sighs and buries his head into my back again. “You don’t love me.” Laughing, I try to move forward, but his hold gets tighter. I huff. “Can you let me go so I can get my hairbrush?” He shakes his head, pulling me into his body more. “Stay.” “You’re so clingy,” I reply with a laugh, checking the time on my phone.

I want thissss😿

don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to fucking be here. I should be at home with Olivia. She shouldn’t be at work, and I shouldn’t be here. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I here? I don’t want to be here.

Real

My mom just hit me. So did my bio-mom. Why do they keep fucking hitting me? My confusion vanishes the second her words register with me. Did she just say Olivia was crying because of me? I pull my phone out and try to call her again, but there’s no reply. The security guard walks out of the building and locks the door, so I know she’s not in there—the lights are all out too. Fuck. Checking the cameras in our house while I cross the road, I don’t see her, and no movement has been detected. Then I open my other app—the one I haven’t used since she came back to me—and check her old place, then stop when I reach my bike. She’s there. In her apartment. Not ours. I only have one camera left in there. It’s facing the front door, just above a picture of the family, hidden, so she’ll never know it’s there. Her bag is by the door. Fuck. What did I do? I pocket my phone, throw my leg over the bike, shove my head in the helmet, and set off to her apartment. I still own the one across from her. It has too much shit in it for me to give up right now. If she knew about all the pictures, TV screens, lists of names I hunted—people who even as much as looked at her—she would lose her shit with me. I managed to take the ones I still need to the house, but not the rest. She’d faint if she knew just how much I was buried in her privacy. The cops would pull me over if they saw how fast I’m going, especially in the pouring rain—I zip between cars, squeezing the throttle to gain even more speed u...

The fact he got so worried makes my heart melttt

Molly’s dark hair swings as she turns to me. “You’re way taller than I thought.” I don’t reply. What would I even say anyway? Thanks, kid, I got my height from my dead bio-dad? Or do I try some bonding by saying, I heard yours was a dick and left you at home for three days while your addict mother lay dead on the bathroom floor. Want to bond over trauma? I can partially relate. Instead, I stay silent. Olivia would most likely kick my balls, and I quite like my balls.

Lmaoooo

Clear as day, he speaks. “I’m your partner. Your lover. Your brother. Your everything, Olivia.” Then he lifts his slightly stained hands to sign, But what you are to me is something more than any words can explain. If someone found a way to remove you from existence, I would burn the world before making sure my soul found yours in the afterlife. “How poetic of you, Malachi.” I smile at him. “You’re my boyfriend, not my brother.” His eyes pinch at the corners as he narrows them, his hands lowering to my ass, grasping each cheek as he closes the distance between us—his body presses mine up against the tiled wall, his cock stabbing into me. “And we’re going to stop referring to each other as siblings,” I add.

I’m looking at a fucking angel. My angel. My anchor. Mine. I love her more than life. She once told me she would never be loved the way I love her because it comes so naturally to people who are neurotypical, and for me to feel anything like that, I’d need to try extra hard and fall deeper than any typical love. She told me it was more than enough for her. There’s fucking concrete around my black heart like a shield, and she’s trapped inside it. That’s the only version of love I have, and I’ll make sure it’s always enough for Olivia to choose me, to never leave me, to love me until we grow old, die, and find each other in the void beyond.

“Tell me you love me,” Olivia gasps into my mouth. “In case we don’t make it in time. I need to hear you tell me you love me.” “I love you, little sister,” I reply, my words still a little unpracticed. “And I’ll tell you every single fucking day after this.” I pull back, watching her ride my cock while I sign, I love you now. I loved you yesterday. When we were kids. When we were teens. When you had me thrown in jail and when I found you again. I’ll love you tomorrow. Next month. Next year. When you’re mothering my child. And when we’re old and gray, I’ll love you even more, because I’ll have had a fucking lifetime to fall more and more in love with you. Is that enough for you, Olivia? Do you need more from me? “You’ve always been enough.” A tear slips down her cheek. “I want every moment with you.” “Huh?” I hear Base say, then he swears under his breath and knocks the mirror to block any reflection. “Fucking hell. Really? It’s a race for life and you’re deep inside your sister?” “Yes,” I breathe against her lips. “But I want to be deeper.”

“Tobes. Help me,” Base says into the phone pressed to his ear. “The siblings are fucking in the backseat, and I’m certain the mute just spoke.”

LMFAOOOK XD