The Lies He Told | PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER ROMANCE |

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I had been lulled into a false sense of security when, without warning, a hard object struck the driver's side window with a resounding crash, sending a jolt of terror through me.

Fight or flight activated.

I shrieked with a mixture of shock, fear and paranoia and closed my eyes tightly, desperately kicking and swatting at the invisible attacker that had breached the door, which had been ripped open with such force that it swung precariously on its hinges.

"It's me!" Royce's hard-edged voice pierced the chaos like a knife, his inked hands grappling with my wrists as he wrestled against my frenzied resistance. "Liv, for fuck's sake! It's me!"

"You bloody pillock!" In a sudden burst of anger, I wrenched my wrists free from his unyielding grasp and stumbled out of the truck on unsteady legs. "You scared the living crap out of me!"

The aftereffects of his late-night sprint through the spooky depths of the grass were apparent to see. His eyes burned into mine, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he gasped for air. His dark hair was damp with sweat, and his cheeks flushed from exertion.

"You said nothing was going to happen to me." My vision blurred with tears of frustration. "I told you I could not do it. I almost flipped the truck."

His lips remained tightly sealed, his jaw clenched in ire. He would not apologise, no matter how much his pride and stubbornness cost him. But his eyes, those dark pools of emotion, told a different story of regret, a deep sorrow that he could not bring himself to express in words.

I sniffled, wiping my nose on my hoodie sleeve. I was angry and shaken, aware of my inadequacy behind the wheel.

However, in all fairness, he could not be blamed for the unforeseen circumstances, nor could he have predicted that the truck would break down on a hillside road.

He was the only one strong enough to push the four-wheeled monster off the road, leaving me to steer. It is not possible for one person to be in two places at once.

"Sorry," I whispered, feeling a single tear trickle down my cheek. "I am just a little shaken up and lashing out."

Royce dropped his head back, his chest heaving up and down as he fought to catch his breath. The rain beat down on his face unsparingly, but he seemed oblivious to its presence. He was fixed on the heavens, searching for answers only the sky was powerful enough to provide.

"I thought..." The telltale bump of his Adam's apple danced up and down in his throat like a puppet on a string. He tried to find the right words to say. "You scared me back there."

"I scared myself." It struck me odd that he cared about my well-being, but I brushed it aside as inconsequential. "This entire day has been a disaster. I am starting to think I should have stayed at Jack's place. I could have avoided a lot of trips in the mud if I did."

Royce let out a mirthful laugh, an incongruous sound with the miserable circumstances. He stepped back, submitting to defeat and allowing the rain to drench him unmercifully. He was thoroughly soaked from head to toe, his boots and jeans encrusted with wet splatters of mud.

"I don't know what happened," he said in a daze, his voice barely audible over the downpour. "The only thing I can think of is water damage."

I think he meant the truck. "But you avoided flooded zones."

"A vehicle can still get water damage during rainstorms, Liv," He enlightened me, and I nodded in agreement as if I was already familiar with the concept. "I can call Chase. He's a mechanic. But I don't think I'll get through to him until the morning..." His sentence hung in the air, unfinished, whilst he contemplated our next move. "We have two choices. We can either walk back to the village or stay in the truck."