Truth or Lies

5. Enzo

This can’t be right. 

This girl can’t be Kai Miller. 

It has to be a mistake. 

Even if she is Kai Miller, my father must have written down the wrong name. 

Or there must be a different Kai Miller. 

She doesn’t belong in my world. 

She doesn’t deserve to die. 

Even though she stole your watch without any way to pay you back? 

Shut up, I tell the voice in my head. 

There is a difference between being punished and dying. She deserves to be punished for her crime, that’s all.

“Show me your ID,” I say. 

Jocelyn, or Kai or whatever her name is, bites her lip in the adorable, seductive way she does when she’s thinking hard. 

I groan inwardly, but don’t let her see how such a simple movement affects me. I want to kiss her, not kill her. 

“I don’t have an ID.” 

“What? Did you leave it at home?” I ask, not sure why she would. I don’t know where she lives, but surely she drove to the pier. I know she doesn’t live in any of the large seaside houses that cost millions and are the only homes nearby. 

“No, I don’t have an ID.” 

I grip her wrist, not believing a word out of her mouth. “You’re older than sixteen, which means you have a driver’s license.” 

She shakes her head.

“You’re not at least sixteen?” s**t, how young is she? 

“I’m sixteen; I turn seventeen next week.” She hesitates as if she’s ashamed to say the rest. “But I never got my driver’s license.” 

I narrow my eyes into slits, demanding her to tell me the truth. 

“Why would I need a driver’s license? I don’t own a car, and even if I did, I don’t know how to drive.” 

My heart throbs. I learned to drive when I was thirteen. No one taught me, just like no one taught me how to throw a punch or fire a gun. I learned because it was necessary to survive. But since I was sixteen, I’ve been driving a Lamborghini. I can’t imagine never driving. It’s one of the world’s greatest escapes. I feel powerful and unrelenting when I drive. And suddenly, I have the urge to teach her how to drive and watch as she takes control. 

“I’m Kai Miller,” her words are calm and steady. 

“How do I know that? How do I know you aren’t lying to me so I’ll forgive your debt?”

Anger flares on her face, as steam flows from her ears. She’s pissed. It’s cute, but not enough to make me believe her. 

She huffs. “Do I look like a Jocelyn to you?”

“No.” 

“My name is Kai. My father calls me Katherine because he thinks Kai is too masculine sounding. But I chose the name Kai when I was little and thought Katherine was too long. It means—” 

“Sea.” 

She nods slowly. 

Kai looks like the sea. Her eyes match the greenish blue color of the ocean, and her skin thrives under the sun making her tanner instead of burning. I would guess she’s grown up her whole life near the water, but instead of learning about the ocean, she’s been cleaning expensive yachts…for my father, I realize. This is one of his yachts. 

Fuck. She really is Kai. Whether the name on her birth certificate is Katherine or Kai, it doesn’t matter. This is who my father meant when he wrote the name on the napkin. And she knows something, or my father thinks she does, which is why I have to kill her. 

But I need to learn more. So much more. I have so many questions Kai needs to answer. I need to take her somewhere private, not here on the pier. Somewhere I can figure out what to do. 

I look down at her lean body. I could grab her arm and force her to go with me. She might struggle or even scream, but it won’t be enough to draw much attention to us. The sailors know who I am, and they wouldn’t dare cross me or my family. Even if the police are called, it would be too late. I would already have her. 

But she might answer more of my questions if I lure her, instead of taking her. 

It’s not in my nature to persuade someone with the carrot rather than the stick. But with Kai, I think it’s the only way. 

Her eyes widen as she realizes I believe her, and I want something from her. 

I hold out my hand. 

“I’m not going with you. Not until you tell me why you were searching for me.” 

I let my shoulders drop, attempting to seem relaxed. I feign a smile, and let my eyes grow soft, so I stop looking like such a demon.

“Have you ever been on a yacht before?” 

She chuckles incredulously. “Are you serious? You just saw me on a yacht.” 

I smile more genuine now at seeing her brighten. “I meant, have you been on a yacht like this out in the ocean? Not when you were working, but when you could truly enjoy its grace and extravagance?” 

“No,” she exhales in sadness. 

I extend my hand to her, making it easier for her to accept. “Let me take you out on one. It could be fun. Just the two of us.” I wink. 

Kai stares at my hand, and I know she’s debating with herself. She wants to take it. She wants to have fun, have an adventure. Pretend that cleaning away nonstop isn’t her life.  

But she knows the danger. I don’t know much about her, but this much I know. She was wary of me in the bar, and she continues to be now. She should be. I don’t know what made her different than most kids our age, but I know she doesn’t get to spend her days going to school, doing homework, and flirting with boys her age. Her life has hardened her to the truths of the world. She knows danger when she sees it, and I’m danger. 

“Do you know how to drive a yacht?” 

I smirk; I’ve got her. “I guess you’re just going to have to trust me if you want to go out the ocean.” 

She ignores my hand but walks closer to me. “Let’s go then.” 

I let my hand drop despite my urge to touch her. I need her hand, waist, or entire body in my clutches. I need to ensure she can’t escape. But it’s more than that. I’m desperate to feel what I know will be deliciously warm flesh against mine. 

“This way then,” I say as I start walking down the pier toward a yacht I know isn’t being used tonight. I let her feel like she has power and is making this choice. I don’t force her to follow me. But if she ran, I would chase. 

I hear her hesitant steps clanking down the pier in her flip-flops. My head shakes the tiniest bit. She definitely doesn’t belong in my world; she doesn’t even know how to walk without being heard. 

I reach the black beast of a yacht at the far end of the pier. It’s not the biggest yacht in our collection, but it still looms over us, taunting us with its majesty. 

Kai stops next to me, her breathing heavy as she stares up at the boat. 

“It’s tiny,” she says, trying to lighten the mood with her joke. 

A wave of her black hair has fallen on her neck, and I brush it back, feeling the iciness oozing, prickling my hot skin as I whisper in her ear, “Trust me, it’s not small.” 

She blushes and bites her damn lip again, like she’s trying to contain her excitement. 

Shit, it’s infectious. 

Some stairs lead up to the main deck of the boat, but what fun are stairs? I jump up to the main deck and turn to tell Kai about the stairs or to help her across. 

Thud. 

I turn and see Kai smiling next to me. She landed on the deck, although not quite as gracefully as I did. 

God, this creature intrigues me. She’s made for this life on the ocean, full of thrill and risk-taking. Unfortunately, this might be the last risk she ever takes. 

“This way, sweetheart.” I wink at her and start walking toward the bow. 

“Ugh, really? Sweetheart?” She chases after me. 

I shrug. I haven’t found a nickname that suits her yet. 

Why am I trying to come up with a nickname for her? I shouldn’t be getting attached. 

I enter the wheelhouse and find the first mate. 

“Out,” I shout to the man I barely recognize. He’s been to the club before and works for my father, but I couldn’t tell you his name. 

“Yes, sir.” He doesn’t hesitate as he exits the room. He knows the consequences. 

“And ensure no crew or cleaning staff remain on the yacht. I will be taking it for a spin, alone.” 

Kai’s eyebrows raise as the man scurries off. 

I walk behind the wheel and start-up the yacht. 

“We’re really doing this?” Kai asks, her voice hitched. 

“Yes,” I hiss, although I don’t know what this is. Does she think I’m going to take her to some private island and f**k her? She’s probably a virgin for goodness sakes. And she’s young. Sixteen. Almost seventeen. She feels far too young for my seventeen, almost eighteen years, or maybe it’s the difference in life experience that makes us so far apart. 

We are both too young for any of this. She may not have seen death or taken it as I have, but she’s experienced pain and fear. We are teenagers who shouldn’t be thinking about f*****g, yet that’s where both our minds are. 

I don’t know what I’m going to do when I get her out on the ocean, but I do know I won’t be f*****g her. 

“Do you know how to untie us and remove the buoy?” I ask. 

She gives me a wicked smile. “Of course.” 

“Good, do it then.” 

Kai tucks her hair behind her ear that has fallen from the bandana and then runs off. 

I shake my head as I watch her leave, giving her another chance to get free of me. 

No, giving her another chance to trust me before I ruin her. 

A minute later the anchor is up, and we are pulling away from the pier. Kai’s eyes are big as she watches me steer out of the marina. 

With her eyes on me, I feel unsettled. 

“You should go to the front and feel the breeze in your hair before we pick up speed. There is nothing like it,” I say. 

“What about you?” she asks, innocently. 

My eyes darken. “Somebody has to steer the boat.” 

She sighs in disappointment. 

“Don’t worry; I’ll have us stopped somewhere before the sun sets.” 

Kai smiles weakly and then does as I say. She moves to the front of the boat, where I can unfortunately still see her as I drive us out into the ocean. Her body becomes part of the wind. She throws her arms back, her eyes close, and her hair flies. 

Beautiful. 

I steer us out into the ocean, finding a quiet place where we won’t be disturbed. And then I enable the GPS autopilot to keep us stopped at this exact location, since the ocean is too deep here to use the anchor. 

“Beautiful,” I whisper as I approach Kai. 

“It is, isn’t it?” She looks out at the ocean where the sun is beginning to set while I look at her. 

“How long have you been cleaning yachts?” 

She shrugs, her eyes cutting to mine and her smile faltering. “A long time.” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“Maybe you haven’t earned an answer.” 

I grab her arm that is gripping the railing and turn her toward me. She stares at my touch. She’s so cold to my fiery fingers. We both gasp before she pulls her arm away. 

“I haven’t earned an answer? I forgave your debt after you stole from me. I’m spending my time and money on gas to take you on a fancy joy ride. How have I not earned some answers to my questions?” 

Her hand grips the railing again as she turns from me. 

“What does your father do for a living?” I ask. 

Nothing.

“How about your mother?” 

Silence. 

“How long have you been cleaning yachts?” 

It doesn’t matter what question I ask. She won’t answer. 

Does she know who my father is? Does she know who I am? Did she witness something at the club? Did she witness a murder? What?

I grab her arm and shove her back. She catches herself on the railing, her back now to it, instead of her front. 

I cage her in with my arms. I’ve been nice, trying to butter her up to answer me, but it didn’t work. Now, I need answers. 

Time is ticking, and I need to decide what to do with her. 

She blinks rapidly, and then her eyes grow defiant as I box her in. 

“You don’t scare me.” 

“I should.” 

She huffs. “You don’t think I haven’t been dealing with men like you my entire life. Well, I have. And you are by far the least scary. You’re nothing but a boy. Whatever you want from me, you won’t get unless I want you to.”

I growl and push myself against her until her breathing stops, proving just how far I’ll go to get the answers that I need. 

We both stare at each other, neither of us backing down—neither of us giving in. 

Her mind is whirling. I can see it going a million miles an hour trying to figure a way out of this. And she may be able to with whatever low-level men come to collect her father’s debts, but she won’t be able to figure a way out with me. She will answer me if she wants to live. And even if she responds, there is no guarantee of living. That was her mistake when she told me who she was, when she willingly got on this yacht with me. 

“Fine, I’ll answer.” 

I back away only an inch. 

“If you win at a game of truth or lies,” she continues. 

I narrow my eyes, pressing my body hard against hers again. “No, you will tell me everything I want to know.” 

She shakes her head slowly. “I will answer any question you ask, if you win. It’s clear you have questions you need to ask. That’s why we are here. My father probably did something stupid, and you need information about him. But I will only answer if you win.” 

“No.” 

She smirks. “You don’t have a choice, pretty boy. Otherwise, I’ll refuse to talk, and you’ll have to report back to your boss that you didn’t get the information you need.” 

“And if you win?” 

“Then you answer my questions.” 

I frown. I don’t like this at all, but if I win, she will answer without me having to hurt her. And if I lose, then I guess I will torture her until she tells me. 

“What are the rules?” 

“We each tell two truths and lie.” She thinks for a moment. “Although, since neither one of us want to reveal much about ourselves, we will play it in reverse. We each will tell two lies and one truth.”

“How do you win?” 

“When you correctly guess the truth.” 

“And if we both guess the truth?” 

“Then we will both be answering a lot of questions.” 

I look over her shoulder and watch the sun hover over the horizon. In thirty minutes or less it will be set, and I’ll be out of time. I want to determine if she deserves to die, tonight. 

I look at her. Kai’s street smart. She knows how to survive. She stole from me without me noticing. She’s sly. But now that I know that about her, I know what to watch for. I’ve spent my entire life reading people; I’ll know if she’s telling the truth or not. 

“Deal.” 

Her grin reaches her eyes, and then she looks down at where I’m pressed against her body. My c**k has hardened against her stomach; her n*****s are sharp points beneath her tank top. If I kissed her right now, I don’t think she’d stop me, but then she’d never answer me. 

I take a step back, and she exhales sharply. 

I walk to the sliding front door of the cabin, throwing it open, disappearing inside. When I step back out, I have two glasses and a fifth of whiskey. 

“Sit,” I say at the table near the front of the ship. 

She takes a seat hesitantly, as I pour us both half a glass of whiskey, fearing we are both going to need a lot to get through this night. 

She takes the glass without a word and sips on the drink. She doesn’t turn up her nose in disgust like most girls her age when they drink anything straight. She doesn’t wince at the burn; she welcomes it. 

I breathe in the drink before I taste it and return to the state of numbness I feel when I drink it. But somehow I don’t think there is enough alcohol on this boat to make me numb when I’m around her. Every electrode in my body is firing. 

“You go first,” I say. 

She nods. 

“My first truth or lie is I’ve never given a blow job.” 

My eyes darken at her words. This is how she wants to play this. Dirty. 

“I’ve never come.” 

Damn her, and her dirty distractions. 

“I’ve never been kissed,” she breathes. 

Somehow her last one feels as dirty as the previous two. Something so innocent, yet so delicious. 

She leans back after she finishes and puts her feet up on the table, relaxing. She said each sentence with equal weight; she’s used to lying to protect herself. 

“Your turn.” 

But I’m good at lying too…

“I’ve never shot a man.

“I’ve never raped a woman.

“I’ve never killed a man.” 

My truths and lies are darker, instead of dirty like hers. But it does the job I was hoping. 

Shock. 

Even if my body betrayed me on some level when I told the truth instead of the lies, she wouldn’t notice, she was too busy being frazzled by my words—hating herself for getting on a boat with such a vicious man. 

“Now what?” 

“Now we make our choice. We only get to pick once. One chance to pick the truth.” 

“And if neither of us chose correctly?” I ask, even though I doubt it will happen. One of us will choose correctly and one of us won’t. I have no doubt I’ll be the victor. 

“Then I guess we don’t get any answers.” 

I nod, agreeing. 

I think back to the three choices: 

I’ve never given a blow job.

I’ve never come.

I’ve never been kissed.

I eye her suspiciously as I think them over and how she said each sentence. The first sentence was easy falling from her lips, meant to shock me as I had her. The second was breathy, like she was thinking about coming when she said it and how good it would feel. The third she said almost playfully, like she was daring me to kiss her. 

I smile. 

“Have you decided?” she asks. 

“I can eliminate one easily.” 

“And which one is that?” 

“I’ve never come is easily a lie. I felt how you pressed back against my body when I was touching you. You know your body well. You know how it feels to make yourself come. You know that exquisite feeling when you touch your clit and explode.” 

Her cheeks blush just a little, but otherwise, she doesn’t show any confirmation that I chose one of the lies correctly. 

“And what do you think? Do you think you know any of mine you can eliminate?” 

She c***s her head to the side as if she’s hiding something. “You’ve never shot a man. That one’s easily a lie. I saw your gun. I can only assume you’ve used it.” 

I swallow hard, and she knows she guessed the lie correctly. 

“Now comes the hard part though.” 

I nod. 

We both eye each other, waiting for either to give away our secrets with a look, a breath, a word. Neither of us does. 

I watch her weigh her two options in her head. Either I’ve never raped or never murdered. Neither makes me a saint, both make me a sinner. She knows nothing about me, but I know the hope she has will make her choose I’ve never killed a man, because she views that as the worse crime. She will choose the lesser of the two evils. Wrongly. 

I think between my two options. 

If I believe she was telling the truth when she says she’s never been kissed, then that means she’s given a man a blow job without having been kissed first. I stare up at the woman in front of me. She’s not that kind of woman. She may be desperate, but she knows her own worth. She wouldn’t sell herself, so she wouldn’t give a blow job for money. And if a boyfriend asked, he would have had to have been chivalrous. Taken her out on date after date to gain her kiss, let alone to earn her to blow him. 

“Ready?” she asks. 

I nod. 

She lifts her drink, and I raise mine. We both down our drinks until the glasses are empty, our eyes never leaving each other. 

“Your truth is you’ve never given a blow job,” I say as I gently set the glass on the table, happy to declare my victory. I don’t care if she guesses correctly. I will get my questions answered.

Her lips slowly curl. “Wrong.” 

What? She’s given a blow job but never been kissed? 

She leans forward on the table. “And your truth is you’ve never raped a woman.” 

My eyes glare back at her as she smirks. I don’t have to open my mouth for her to know my truth. She already knows she won.