The Lies Between Us (The Devil's Dust #4)

The Lies Between Us (The Devil's Dust #4)

M.N. Forgy



DEDICATION


I dedicate this book to those who were underestimated, and to those who f*cked up and need a second chance at making things right. Love is raw, and hurts… but that’s how you know it’s real…. You feel.

Think twice about the people you think are of lesser value, one could turn out to be the most important person in your life one day.





CHAPTER ONE


CHERRY


6 Years Before

My head is spinning, and my body feels like dead weight. I’m falling into everything, as if I were top-heavy, and can barely stand straight. I lick my lips, and they tingle with an unusual sensation. I giggle and trip on my heels, falling right into a dresser. My elbow crashes into it, but it doesn’t hurt. Though I doubt I’ll be saying the same thing in the morning.

“I am so f*cked up,” I slur. I drank way too much. I smoked too much. Drugs and liquor don’t mix well. My brother Tyler threw a party for landing his first DJ gig and invited everyone he knew.

“How many have you had to drink?” I look behind me and see two Erics. God, two of him is way better than one. I blink my eyes rapidly, and he finally comes into focus along with the rest of the room. A bedroom. How did I get in here? His arms are so muscular from college football. He’s played since high school; only before he was a bully to me. Always teasing me and calling me names. Now, he wants me, and has been flirting with me all night. He closes the gap between us and I stop giggling.

“You wanna fool around?” he whispers into my ear, his breath smelling of alcohol. I throw my head back and laugh.

“And why would I want to do that? You used—” I pause, trying to get my thoughts right. “You used to make fun of me in high school.” I sway on my heels, the drugs and booze wreaking havoc on my balance. He tilts his head to the side, his long, blond hair falling to his chin.

“Did I now?” His voice comes out like silk, enveloping me in a warm cocoon.

“Freckled-face Lindsay Cole, has an ugly pie hole.” I shake my head. Hearing the words leaving my lips sound just as ridiculous as they did back then.

He laughs and rubs at his chin. “Yeah, well, that was high school.” He steps forward and grabs my hips. His touch shoots sparks through my body, and I mewl in response. Drunk Lindsay has no control of her sexual reactions, apparently.

“You were just a girl.” He pulls his brows together. “You’ve really filled out nicely since then.” He chuckles and tilts his head back, assessing me. “Are you still a girl, Lindsay, or has some lucky man made you into a woman?” My body sobers, and my legs clench beneath my little pink dress.

“Wh-what?” I stammer, my eyes widening. Eric smiles and pulls away from me. He kicks the door shut, the music from the party drowned out instantly.

“I am going to take that reply as you’re still a virgin.” He turns and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing all his muscled glory. I sway and lean over, trying to get my f*cking eyes to focus on his lean torso.

“Oh, wow,” I mutter. He steps forward and grasps my hips, walking me backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed.

“I’m going to make you a woman tonight, Lindsay Cole,” he whispers as my back presses into the mattress. I close my eyes and sigh.

Finally. Eric McCormick wants me. For some reason, I feel like everything I ever wanted to achieve as a na?ve nineteen-year-old has just been accomplished.


Eight Weeks Later

I cough and choke on my thick saliva over the toilet.

“Just puke already,” I slur, trying to encourage my body to give in to the nausea. I’ve been sick for two weeks and cannot for the life of me shake this f*cking flu. My brother Tyler hangs out at those stupid clubs; he probably gave me something.

I stand and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, my mission to vomit failing for the fifth time this morning. When I see Tyler, I’m going to chew him out and then demand he make me a grilled cheese sandwich with chicken noodle soup for getting me sick.

I zombie-walk into the living room, my tongue filling my mouth like it’s too big while my gag reflex is twitching with the urge to puke again. I close my eyes and swallow hard, trying to get a hold of myself. Slowly opening my eyes, I spot Tyler putting groceries away. I don’t live here, but I visit often. I moved out of the house when I was young. I couldn’t stand my father punching me in the face anymore so I said f*ck it and bolted. I have learned to handle things on my own, and not expect others to do things for me. Tyler offered our old trailer to me once our dad moved out. He found some butch-looking woman who drove a Mac truck and ran off with her. Good riddance. I took the trailer ‘cause living in a shelter sucks, and I was done spending sweltering nights in my car. But, I hate that f*cking trailer. It brings back too many memories.

“Damn, Lindsay, you look like shit,” Tyler states, putting some cereal in a cupboard.

“I feel like shit,” I groan, plopping on the couch. I can’t stand this couch. The material feels like old yarn, and it’s rough and itchy against my skin.

“How long have you been sick?” Tyler questions. I turn in my seat and look at him. His hair is dyed black, with some blue and red streaks through it. Piercings in his eye and nose shine with the sun coming through the blinds. He looks like a punk.