The Lies We Steal (The Hollow Boys, #1)

by Monty Jay

“She was mine. And now, you’re going to see what happens when someone fucks with things that belong to me,” he snarls in his ear.

It was hard to deny how attractive they were. Beautiful enough to pull you in, but the air that surrounded them made you want to take a step back. Multiple steps back.

“Thatcher Pierson. Death manifested into one perfectly-made human.” Lyra breathes the same way she does when she’s admiring one of her dead bugs. With excitement.

“Capable of choking you with his bare hands and not feeling anything in his cold, dark heart. He is incapable of feeling anything. Which is why it’s believed the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. His father was Ponderosa Springs’s one and only serial killer.”

She nods, shushing me, wanting me to keep my voice down, “Rosemary Donahue, mayor’s daughter. I’m not sure what exactly happened, but everyone else says she overdosed. Silas was her boyfriend. They’d been together since I think middle school. He is the one who found her body. They all did.”

Alistair is gorgeous in a sinister kind of way. Reckless abandon, turmoil, broken hearts, but you'll never leave him because the way his mouth travels on your body while you’re chained to his bed is enough to make any woman stay.

The side of me that wants to slap him for laying a hand on me, and the side of me that is throbbing from the heat of his fingers on my inner thigh. Dangerously close to my center.

“They are not scared of me because of my money, they fear me because I could, and would, kill them if they crossed me. You should think about that before opening those cock-sucking lips again.”

From down here, his eyes aren’t as dark. They are a stunning brown color and I find it almost unfair that the boys stitched together with dark magic and cruel intentions always have the prettiest eyes.

In order to get under her skin the way I wanted to, I needed to know everything about my opponent. The one so brave and bold, so sure she wasn’t afraid of me while her thighs quaked beneath my touch.

wondered if this is how Rose felt. If he’d been the one to end her life, if she felt scared like this. If she begged, if she cried for Silas. My nostrils flare, my boot pressing into Chris’s side, kicking him over onto his back. “Talk.”

My little red riding hood running from the big bad wolf. Our story is inevitable. I catch her. I feast. Her left foot ruins her. It catches

“Here I was thinking you were smart,” I breathe, my chest heaving from the chase, a smile creeps up on my face, “You should know what happens when you run. It only makes me want to chase you more.”

I wanted beneath her skin. On top of her body. Between her legs. Feasting, conquering, showing her how hard she could come

when she was shaking from pleasure and fear.

My body was still holding onto the attraction I felt for him the night of the party. My mind knew how crooked it was to be pulled to a guy like him, my brain understood the consequences. The destruction he would do. But my body. My body loved the flow of electricity. The endorphins.

was going to take everything from her. Her joy. Her friends. Her secrets. Her fear. It was all mine to take. All mine to steal.

“I own you now, Little Thief. We own you. You belong to us. Be sure to remember that.” The growl wobbles my bones, my bottom lip trembling.

My heart thudded so hard, I knew he felt it against his own chest. Hot, wet, fluid soaked between my thighs, my body sexually aroused from the charge of primal terror. I told myself it was just my body’s natural reaction. That I couldn’t help it. It was a biological response.

I wasn’t sketching her because she was attractive. A lot of girls are attractive. There are a lot of girls who are pretty, and some who are hot, but that’s not what matters right now. I don’t care that she’s pretty. I repeated those words over and over

She’d not only managed to get hundreds of cockroaches into my car, but also broke into my vehicle without triggering the alarm. It showed talent. Showed promise. It was a fucking shame it was going to be wasted. That I would have to take a girl who thought she knew everything and show her what life was really about.

I grind my teeth, trying to breathe, but all I get is gulps of him. His smoky breath filling me up, up, up. I was going to explode. Tendrils of terror wrapped around my throat, choking me. I was scared, yes. My mind, my heart. But my body, my sick, fucked-up body, she liked it. She liked it too much. So much that I couldn’t stop her from proving my point.

“You don’t get to use me. Not to make your tight, pink cunt come. Not for silly games with your friend. Not for anything. I will get what is mine, Briar. Even if I have to kill you for it,” he spews, my mouth moving with his every word.

Sweat, smoke, and the lingering scent of rubber from the mat plug my nose. Just not enough to forget that exotic floral aroma that had stuck to my skin like leeches. It penetrated the chlorine. Even after my shower, I could still smell it. I could still smell her. The vigor I felt after leaving her there, soaked to the core, knowing how badly she throbbed for an orgasm. I could feel the heat, the juices that poured from her cunt, even in the water. Knowing I’d twisted her little mind into knots. I’d showed her that she was no better than us. A dirty, gritty girl who enjoyed the things that crept in the night. Watching her pant and whimper in the arms of the guy she hates.

Chasing an orgasm on the thigh of the man who was going to be her demise. It was intoxicating. I’d never felt power like that before.

The night in the pool, she’d done everything I’d wanted her to. A puppet on my wire. Showing her that she was nothing but a toy I could control. It wasn’t my intention to have her ride my thigh, but it was my plan to watch her find out who exactly was in charge of this situation.

My hands grabbed at his shoulders, “Silas.” I think it was the softest my voice had been since I was child, “You gotta stop. She’s gone, she’s gone.”

He turned, a few feet away from her cloth-covered body, facing the police and all his friends. It was like he was looking straight through us when he said, “I just wanna carry her one more time. Her feet get cold when she doesn’t wear shoes outside.” Nobody, not a soul, tried to stop him as he scooped her up into his arms. Her sluggish arm falling out from underneath the white sheet, the tips of her fingers painted bright red.

Her hair caught a gust of wind, slipping it behind her as she smiled at my brother who was helping gather her books off the ground. I wanted to rip his arms off for making her smile like that. For having her attention. My fingernails dug into my palm, squeezing so forcefully I thought I might have brought blood to the surface. The way she laughed at something he said, and how he purposely made sure their fingers touched as he handed over her books. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kill him or punish her first.

Dorian wasn’t supposed to be in for another week or two, at least. He never showed up for holidays this goddamn early and the year he does, he’s trying to take what is mine. Once again, he is ripping what belongs to me right out of my fucking hands. Proving I was nothing but his spare. Everything I had was only his to take. But not this time. Not her. Briar was mine. Mine to torment. Mine to manipulate. Mine to break. It was about goddamn time she learned what happened when she didn’t play by my rules.

I squint my eyes bringing my hand closer to my face. On the top of my finger below my knuckle are the initials, A.C., about the size of a penny. I’m horrified, rapidly trying to rub off what I hope is a sharpie. I’m not even paying attention to anything

“You tattooed me?” I shriek, standing up and pressing my chest into his. I lift my chin up into his face, fuming. His dark eyes burn against mine, pieces of his dark hair falling in front of his face a bit, as he dips his head towards my lips, “Can’t have you forgetting who you belong to. I told you Briar,” he breathes, “you’re mine.”

I felt branded. Stamped as his property. I’d never been able to get rid of him, even if he left me alone. I’d always look down at the black ink on my hand and be reminded of how dark his eyes are or the way he smells pressed against me.

The makeup I’d put over it was starting to fade and I’d need to reapply it soon. “No. I think it would be better if it did hurt.” “Why?” “Then I’d be more inclined to hate it.” I’d promised myself that I’d be open and honest with Lyra about everything. Including the fact that the tattoo itself was beautiful. I loved the way the letters fit in the space of my finger, the A and C designed to swirl around like vines around rose bushes.

I’d promised myself that I’d be open and honest with Lyra about everything. Including the fact that the tattoo itself was beautiful. I loved the way the letters fit in the space of my finger, the A and C designed to swirl around like vines around rose bushes. I thought about getting it covered

“She already has a date.” The squealing of chairs ring in my ears, the one directly beside me gets pulled out roughly before someone’s weight is dropped into the wooden seat. Rook slides into the chair next to Lyra, a smirk on his lips as he rolls the match around with his tongue. My shadow returns behind me, casting over everything else around me. He absorbs it all, stealing all the light and pulling me deeper into the dark with him. That’s where he wants me. Right there in the shadows with him. They always said in movies the light defeats the dark. That good wins over evil, so why is it that he is able to destroy anything that even tries to challenge him? Good, light, it was no match for him.

“Ladies,” Rook offers with a sly wink. I watch Lyra look at him out of the corner of her eye, picking her chair up and moving it farther away from him. “I’m sorry, what?” Easton asks trying to play catch up with this situation. I’m sure when he thought about asking me, Alistair Caldwell and his friends were not a part of the equation. “I said,” Alistair grabs the edge of my seat, tugging it closer to him, pulling me further into his web, “she already has a date.”

“I said,” Alistair grabs the edge of my seat, tugging it closer to him, pulling me further into his web, “she already has a date.” I feel his head right next to my head. The way he leans into my body, smelling my hair, and I only make it worse by falling into his chest. Complete...

bite hard on the inside of my cheek, “Easton this isn’t…he…,” I wave my hands softly, trying not to make this look any worse than it already is. “He isn’t what? Your boyfriend?” he spits out, disgusted that I’m even allowing Alistair to touch me. Even though he probably has more money than Easton could imagine, he still looked down on the man behind me. Like he was somehow better than him. “No, he’s not,” I grind my teeth, turning my head a bit to throw a sideways glance over my shoulder. “We are just…” I drag

out the word tasting funky on my tongue, “friends.”

“Come on, Little Thief. We’re more than friends,” he whispers for only my ears, “You haven’t told the golden retriever about how your little pussy was dripping on my knee the other night? Practically begging me for it.” I shiver and not because it’s cold.

“She’s mine, Sinclair. I’m sure you can find another hopeless girl you can con with your whack-ass knight in shining armor act,” Alistair says loudly, never moving his head from next to mine. Easton’s eyes have become a hurricane of anger. The once light blue color that looked like happy skies, have become dark, veracious warning signs before a storm tears through the land. “This is the kind of guy you want to spend your time with, Briar? A fucking asshole with no morals? His own family can’t even stand him, he’s a nobody.” Easton slings the harsh words out like a whip, hoping to clip someone in the process.

“A nobody who’s fucking the girl you’re drooling over.” I gasp at his response, ready to deny that immediately, but Easton is already firing back. Shaking with disbelief, a switch flipping in his demeanor, “Drooling? Please.

“I thought we were friends,” I say a little loudly, causing the librarian to shush me, her eyes slitted and filled with aggravation. I glance around at the other students watching us, my cheeks warming up. “Friends? You looked gullible and like an easy lay. You’re just a girl from the gutter.” He states, “There’s no Prince Charming for you. Welcome to your life, Briar. One-night stands and quick fucks, it’s what you were made for.”

“Say her name again,” Alistair bites, “and I’ll make you swallow your fucking teeth.” Rook lets him up, Easton jerks upwards. Straightening his shirt and dusting off the imaginary lent, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “Fucking freaks.” He mutters.

“And you,” I point my finger at him, “I’m doing this one thing for you. That’s it. We are not friends, we sure as hell are not fucking. You cannot come around pissing on me like you’re marking your territory.” It seems I’m failing miserably at being

“Don’t cover that up,” he looks down at the tattoo on my finger, “and I won’t have to go pissing anywhere.”

“Thatcher,” I cough, “this is Lyra. Lyra this is Thatcher.” I introduce the two of them sarcastically, but from the looks of it she is very aware of who he is. “Yeah, I know who he is. I mean,” she clears her throat, looking at me, “I know who you all are.” The way she watches him, like she’s staring straight into his soul through the holes in her mask. It’s not fear, it’s…inquisitiveness that settles in her gaze. Even though she wants her distance from him, she still finds him interesting.

Blood rushes to my dick, my boxers suddenly becoming extremely tight around my groin, and not because of her erect nipples or pretty eyes. No, it’s the way her small hand raises to her ear, re-tucking a few pieces of hair behind it. My tattoo caught in the light and, even though it was small, the decorative font I picked matched her dress too well.

How dainty my initials looked on her body. How fucking good they looked on her finger. It only made me stiffer thinking about covering her body with my name, stamping my initials on the entirety of her skin. I wanted to smell her. To see if she’d put on that perfume she didn’t know I liked. The one with exotic flowers and something sweet. Striding closer until I was standing directly in front of her.