Desperate LiesLies 2
Ella Miles
Copyright © 2020 by Ella Miles
EllaMiles.com
Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs
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Contents
Lies Series
Prologue
1. Liesel
2. Langston
3. Liesel
4. Langston
5. Liesel
6. Langston
7. Liesel
8. Langston
9. Liesel
10. Langston
11. Liesel
12. Langston
13. Liesel
14. Langston
15. Liesel
16. Langston
17. Liesel
18. Langston
19. Liesel
20. Langston
21. Liesel
22. Langston
23. Liesel
24. Langston
25. Liesel
26. Langston
Also by Ella Miles
About the Author
Lies Series
Lies We Share: A Prologue
Vicious Lies
Desperate Lies
Fated Lies
Cruel Lies
Dangerous Lies
Endless Lies
Prologue
Liesel
I want to kill Langston, but I’d also die for him.
He ruined my life.
He made me so desperate to get my life back that I’m about to murder in cold blood.
Langston took every-fucking-thing from me.
He took my money.
My career.
My heart.
My soul.
My life.
He took the one person I care about above all.
Langston couldn’t just be happy taking me, controlling me, demanding I give up my life to pay for my sins—he wanted more.
And he won’t stop until he has everything.
I’m pretty sure he already does.
But at least I’ll take the one thing from him he truly loves. I’m desperate to find out the truth, to find out if he really took everything. This is the only way to separate the truth from the lies.
I’ve always been the huntress, but I’m about to become the killer…
1
Liesel
I lied—those words flood me as I run down the beach.
Should I run on the sand where it’s easier to run, but I’m an open target? Or should I dart into the jungle where I’ll have to fight through thick brush, but I won’t be spotted?
I decide speed is better than cover and keep running down the beach, away from Langston’s house, and toward the airport.
I lied.
I’m not really married to Waylon.
Langston lied, too, right?
We lie—that’s what we do. All we’ve done is lie to each other since we were kids. That’s what we were doing—lying. Not letting the other person see our cards.
He definitely lied. There is no way Langston is married to my cousin, Phoenix, and already has two kids. Siren or Kai would have said something to me.
Right?
RIGHT?
Yes.
Langston is just as single as ever.
He may be dating Phoenix, hedging his bets so if I don’t marry him, he can still marry a Dunn and go after my inheritance.
Boom.
I duck at the sound, covering my head like somehow my hands are going to be able to stop a bomb.
I shield my eyes as I glance up at the sun, trying to see if we are being attacked from above. I don’t see any planes.
It’s a ground attack; probably someone who wants Enzo and Kai’s empire like usual. There is a reason I don’t really hang out with them anymore—this is why. I’d rather not be ambushed and spend my time running from guns, bombs, and dangerous people every second of every day.
I prefer to be able to go to an excluded beach island to actually relax and not worry about bombs being dropped on my head—call me high-maintenance.
I hear gunfire behind me.
Jesus.
How did I end up in this world? When will it end?
I decide that I should take the jungle route after all. I slip between some bushes, scratching my arms and causing some nasty red bumps to pop up.
Another loud bomb goes off.
I stop and turn my head in the direction of the house.
“You better not destroy the house!” I yell into the jungle. I plan on taking the house from Langston someday. I may not like Langston anymore, but I dreamt up that fucking house when I was eight—it’s mine.
I turn back in the opposite direction of the house, hoping to eventually find the runway we landed on.
I take a step, and a green leaf with tiny razor-sharp teeth digs into my thigh. I take another step and almost trip over a branch. One more step, and then I stop.
There is no clear path. I realize now that when I followed Langston to the house, he was clearing the path for me, stomping down leaves and branches. He was making it easier for me, even if he was teasing me by letting his branches hit me.
Now, I’m all alone to make my own path. I like being an independent woman carving my own path.
I sigh, covered in sweat dripping down my forehead and pooling around the base of my neck. Getting off this island is going to take forever.
I curse to hell whoever it is attacking. I’d rather be stuck talking to Langston than running for my life through the hot jungle.
Why am I running?
Does Langston think I’m not strong enough to stay and fight with him?
Will he be too worried about me if I’m nearby while he’s fighting?
Or is he hiding something?
My money is on Langston hiding something. He doesn’t want me to know who’s attacking. Or he doesn’t want them to know that I’m here.
Either way, he’s hiding.
That alone should make me turn my ass around and demand answers from Langston.
My leg is straddling a fallen tree; my hair is stuck to my face. I would do anything for some water to fix my bone-dry mouth, too.
I look left then right.
What do I do?
Do I run back to Langston, into the danger, and demand answers?
Do I do as Langston said and run? And run? And run?
I’m already running; I’m not turning back now.
He said to run as far as I could tonight, and then to come find him tomorrow.
He’s crazy if he thinks I’ll return to him—back to being his captive and back to the place where he said he’d end my life.
There is no way I’m going back now.
Langston promised me answers. He promised to give me one clue from his half of the torn paper.
I look left—toward Langston—man, do I want to know what
