All The Truths - Rina Kent Page 0,21

barely chew before swallowing the mac and cheese. It tastes rich and strong, but I barely focus on that.

Oh, God. This is so intimate. I shouldn’t be doing it with Asher.

I reach out for the spoon, but he keeps it out of reach and forces me to eat from his hand.

There’s something changed about his expression, something curious and new.

Or maybe my brain is interpreting it that way after all I uncovered about the past and my identity.

Asher’s eyes keep darkening every time I wrap my lips around the spoon to swallow the pasta. His jaw ticks and he feeds me slower, as if savoring the moment.

The air thickens with tension, the scene taking an entirely different direction. It’s like he’s fucking my mouth instead of feeding me. At first, it’s with his thumb, and then it’ll be with his cock.

My cheeks flame at the thought. That’s not right to imagine—at all.

And yet, my thighs clench together. The leather of my skirt becomes too harsh against my heated skin and my T-shirt turns tight over my hardening nipples.

No.

I need to pull myself out of this trance.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re here?” I ask after swallowing another spoonful of the food.

“Mac and cheese was your favorite when you were younger,” he says, as if it’s the perfect answer to my question.

“Don’t many kids love it?”

“Not you.” He raises an eyebrow. “You used to feel peevy around it until I once dared you to eat it, and then you secretly fell in love.”

For a second, I think my heart will abandon me and stop beating. Is he talking about Reina versus me? “When was that? How old was I?”

“Right before your thirteenth birthday.” The spoon clinks against the bowl as he fills it. “Why are you asking?”

“Nothing.”

So it was me, not Reina. A strange sense of relief floods me. It’s so sudden and strong, I briefly close my eyes until it goes away.

My unfamiliarity with mac and cheese makes sense. Mom was Russian and never made it. I wasn’t exposed to the typical American life until I lived with Dad.

“What were you doing in that cottage, Reina?” His tone hardens like that time in the hospital when he asked me if I was running away from him.

“Searching for the truth,” I say, my eyes cast downward.

I can’t look at him, not when he thinks I’m Reina.

You’re an imposter.

You should die.

The gloomy cloud roams around my head like a halo, trying to swallow me inside and suck out my soul.

“What truth?” He pushes another spoonful in my mouth. “And when I talk to you, look at me.”

I shake my head, stomach in knots as I swallow. “I’m full. Can I go back now?”

“Answer the question and look at me,” he deadpans.

I remain rooted in place, mute.

“Don’t fucking test me or I swear—”

“Or what?” My head snaps up, fully meeting that forest gaze that has more depth than any human should be allowed to. “You’ll attempt to kill me like on the roof, in the classroom, or in the locker room? I know it was you. I heard what you said to Arianna on her death anniversary. I know you’ll make me pay for whatever the fuck I did. So stop pretending you care for me, whether I eat or starve, whether I lock myself in my room and die, or whether I disappear into the forest and never return. Just stop fucking pretending!”

Because it’s fucking with my head more than everything else he’s done, and I’m not in a position to have my head fucked with.

I expected Asher to be surprised after my sudden outburst, but he reveals nothing. His expression remains completely blank as he drops the spoon into the bowl on the tray between us.

Then he laughs. It’s long and humorless and shoots something akin to raw fear down my spine.

This is Asher uncut.

This is Asher without an ounce of holding back.

“Pretending.” His laughter finally subsides, replaced by a closed-off expression. “Fucking pretending.”

“Well, wasn’t it?” I fold my arms over my chest, my nails digging into the skin. “You only pretended just to get closer to me and screw me over. You made me believe you were my savior when you were the villain all along.”

“Drop your arms,” he growls.

“What?”

“Don’t give me that high-and-mighty Reina act. I’m not everyone else, so don’t you dare put up your walls with me, and drop your fucking arms when you’re talking to me.”

“No.” I jut out my chin.

I need my arms