Don't Lie to Me by Stacey Lynn Page A

bed.
    “I’m going home, Jack.”
    He pulled me back to him. “No. You’re not. You’re staying here so I can screw you again as soon as I get back.”
    I flinched at his words. It wasn’t just his words that bothered me – but how angry he sounded when he spit them out at me. I wasn’t going to stay here and be used by him to relieve whatever tension his brother created. I also knew better than to argue with him when he was clearly this upset.
    “Is he in trouble?” I asked, changing the subject back to his brother in order to take his focus off me so I didn’t lie to him.
    Jack sighed deeply and removed his hand from my arm. “I told you I don’t talk about him.”
    I arched an eyebrow, questioningly; knowing it was pointless to try to get information out of him if he didn’t want to share. But it still hurt. He wanted to try this with me, he wanted to fuck or screw me senseless and have all this control, but the first time a personal question came up; he blocked me out.
    I wondered if it would stay like this. Probably. I felt defeated as I realized that besides sex, Jack would probably never open up to me.
    “Fine.”
    He gave me that look that said he knew exactly what a woman meant when she said ‘fine.’ That we were still pissed but weren’t going to say anything, but we’d continue to stay pissed for as long as we wanted. I pulled his satin sheet up to cover my chest and wrapped my arms around me protectively.
    “Fine?” He finally responded, questioningly.
    I nodded, having nothing to say about it anymore. I felt stupid, rejected, and used.
    Jack looked at me doubtfully as he left the bed and began buttoning his dress shirt. “You’ll be here when I get back?” It was the first time he’d asked me a question, instead of demanding something from me. I didn’t miss it. I didn’t miss the look in his eyes that were questioning me, but I couldn’t speak, for fear that he would know I was lying to him. His body was still filled with tension from the phone call.
    I simply nodded again, but said nothing. He grabbed his keys and phone before walking away without looking back.
    I waited a full thirty minutes, watching the clock next to his side of the bed tick by slowly before I got out of his bed. I got dressed, grabbed my bag and left his condo without a note. eI
    I had no doubt he didn’t actually expect me to still be there when he returned from whatever it was he was doing.
    When I got back to my dark apartment, I peeled off my dress, laid down in bed and cried. I cried until I drifted off into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of Jack.
     

     
    The combination of my cell phone exploding and a loud pounding jolted me out of sleep the next morning. I turned over in my bed, trying to place the noise and saw that it was only seven o’clock. With swollen, dry eyes, I rubbed my face wondering where the pounding noise was coming from. It didn’t feel like it was the sound I heard in my head from a headache from drinking too much. I fumbled around on my nightstand, grabbed my phone to shut off the shrill sound, and grimaced when I looked at the screen. Jack.
    Realization dawned on me and I sat up quickly, instantly regretting the quick motion. It only made my head hurt worse, but the pounding didn’t stop because it wasn’t in my head. I silenced the ringer on my phone and climbed out of bed as he shouted my name in the hallway. I had to answer the door before he woke up my entire building.
    I threw on my ugly, large terry cloth robe that covered every single inch of my body and went to answer the door. I didn’t want Jack seeing any part of me.
    “I’m coming Jack!” I yelled back through the apartment so he would stop beating down my door before he broke it. The sound finally stopped but my head still hurt.
    He looked panicked when I opened the door. Both arms braced on the sides of the doorway, his head bowed slightly, chest heaving, still wearing the same suit he threw on the night