Lie Like a Villain

Chapter 15 || Blowback

Jason woke to an aching jaw and a faceful of dirty mop water. He sputtered, eyes snapping open.

Rachel stood over him, holding a bucket. "Wakey, wake—"

Jason shot to his feet, pinning her to a wall. A broom clattered to the floor. Surprise splashed over her face. His anger concealed the throbbing pain in his shoulder. It clogged his words in his throat.

Ana was alone. Ana was gone. And it was this girl—the one trapped under his hands, his full weight pressing her shoulders into the wall—who the fault belonged to.

His fingers curled, pressing into her skin, but she stared back unflinchingly. Her chin tipped up. Her steady eyes met his. "Done yet?"

Lips tightened by fury and fear, Jason said nothing. Unshrinking as she was while he towered, a spark of guilt ignited beneath his anger.

"You might wanna make up your mind quickly," she said, "because in, oh, I don't know, five minutes or so, there's a bomb behind you that's going to explode."

Jason threw a glance behind him. In the corner, a paint can with a tight lid popped and fizzed ominously.

"So," she said, voice dripping with scorn, "you can keep playing big strong man and keep us trapped here where we'll both get blown to bits. You can run out the front doors into the cops' arms. Or you could follow me, and we can both walk out of here."

"You're an absolute lunatic." He pushed off of her, arm aching.

"And you're a freaking liar." She dusted herself off, as if brushing his presence off of her. Her hands were shaking, he noticed, even though she shoved them into her hoodie pocket just after. "You know something you're not telling me."

Jason grit his teeth, not wanting to even count all the things he hadn't told her. "Didn't you say that was a bomb?" He pointed at the corner.

"Yeah." She stalked forward in the tiny space, blocking the door. "Why? Does it scare you? Not knowing when it's going to go off? Not knowing how it works? Not knowing if you're safe?"

Her inflection twisted that word into a weapon, as if it should mean something more to him than it did. He stared at her, willing his expression not to give anything away.

She sneered. "Typical. I should have seen it from the beginning. You," she said, jabbing him with a finger, "are nothing, are no one. You're not a scared kid, and you're not a caring brother." He drew back from her tirade, but she stepped closer. Disgust painted her face in twisted ripples. "You are a mirror. You let people see what they want. That's all you are."

His chest constricted, and his head shook. Not because she was wrong, but because he'd said that to himself too many times to bear hearing it from her lips. "No."

"Yes," she snarled, jabbing him again.

"No." He caught her wrist. Her lip curled, but she didn't pull from his loose grasp. I haven't lost you yet, he thought, he hoped, he prayed. Ana was lost, Sam had abandoned them, and his plans were crumbling around him. Himself, he'd lost, but he hadn't lost her. "I need you," he begged, voice soft and urgent. "Please. Let's get out of here, and I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"You'll tell me more lies."

"What do you think I've even lied to you about?" He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but he was deep into his own act, and he honestly didn't know why she had flipped on him. He'd been so careful.

The legitimate confusion and desperation must have lent credence to his words. Her face softened, a coil of hair falling escaping from behind her ear. She looked his face over again with wary eyes. "I expect the truth."