We’re throwing lies [Part 1]

It all happened in just a flash.

Daphne Garza was yanked away from Bryon Markins’ side.

She let out a surprised yelp, unable to do anything under the presence of an incredibly strong man. He was taller than Bryon, and his abdominal muscles were too defined.

It appeared that his black t-shirt could no longer accommodate his biceps as well; the seams looked that they would pop anytime.

It was scary.

When their eyes met momentarily, she figured it was a dull second—for she happened to feel mesmerized. She was almost ashamed by her own reaction because her mind failed to process what was happening.

Therefore, pulling herself together was held crucial at the moment.

It all happened in just a flash.

All it took was one blink of an eye.

Daphne let out a horrified scream when she found Bryon, lying on the sandy shore. His lower lip was bleeding, his face cut. Her shocked gaze darted toward the nefarious man who just committed the horrible act right before her.

He just rewarded Bryon with a bone-cracking punch, and she was rendered speechless to the point that she could not absorb the information that was being forcefully fed to her right now.

Why would he do that?

Bryon was not even trying to pick a fight with him. They were just peacefully taking a walk, side by side. Although she felt a little bummed that he was not interested in holding a conversation, she never wished him ill.

This was all too much.

The man looked unfazed.

“Why would you do that?” Daphne asked him, her voice cracking. She was on the verge of tears. Somehow, it felt as though she was responsible for this. She tried to struggle her way out of the firm grip of his men’s on her arms and body, helplessly.

They stubbornly refused to give into her eagerness in return, and her small effort just drove them to hold onto her more tightly.

With all her might, her blurry vision, once again, met the man’s cold, ruthless gaze. The new-born bravery within her had completely dismissed the idea of breaking down in front of him.

The feeling was all new to her as well, and nothing pleased her, but the fact that she finally found the spirit to stand up—not for myself, but someone else.

“I asked you,” Daphne croaked out. “Could you be generous enough to provide me an answer?

He was far worse than Bryon when it came to questioning.

The man was not planning to give away something—or anything.

“Daphne, s-stop,” Bryon managed to speak, hissing at the contact he made when he touched his lower lip.

The man, who seemed to be the leader of this barbaric gang, did not expect that she would dare look away from him just to cast a concerned look toward Bryon’s direction.

Daphne watched him stand up and bow down—to the huge man who just hit him with full force. That was when she was able to fully assess his condition.

That was when she was able to take a good look at him.

She gasped at the sight of a black eye already forming, a debilitating bruise on his left cheek, and a busted lip. Bryon was obviously hurt, yet he was acting like everything was fine.

She just could not accept that at all.

The guy had never, even once, laid a finger on her. She knew that he was a good person, despite branding himself a ‘felon’.

“Bryon?” In by inch, it was starting to dawn on her, but still, it was Bryon whom she wanted to confirm it from. “Who is he?” Daphne almost winced at the sound of defeat in her strained voice.

She went out of the hotel with one thing in mind—freedom. She came with Bryon because he offered warmth and comfort, despite his stern appearance and distant personality. She came with an understanding that each person in this world had a different background, and she embraced that difference.

She came because she believed.

Bryon, backing down like a man, should mean something. There was already a little idea at the back of her mind which she was trying to suppress from surfacing.

Daphne shook her head, tears slowly slipping down her cheeks. “Bryon—”

“Silence,” he ordered firmly, his tone calm. “You do not have the luxury to speak in his presence, Ms. Daphne.

Her head got dizzy, her throat parched.

His tone…

Was that guileless and outright submission?

Why?

“You are quite the traditional one, Markins.

Her eyes widened in recognition.

That voice…

It was gravelly, firm, and full of authority.

“Are you—?

Daphne was not able to complete her sentence when the man suddenly took one huge step over to reach her. To say that she was startled would be a complete understatement. The cold-blooded man cupped her face harshly, his grip tightening substantially the longer he stared at her miserable, snot-filled face.

He looked unforgiving.

The waves that came off of him was rather unpleasant and disturbingly terrifying.

Her knees trembled in utter fear.

Daphne tried her best.

She tried really hard.

However, trying would be never enough in the face of inexorable adversity. A low whimper of protest escaped past her mouth in her attempt to make the man loosen his vice-like grip.

“Do you know who you are to me?

Her cheeks hurt.

How was she supposed to answer him back if he was holding her like that?

“Sir.

It was Bryon.

And he sounded assertive.

The man released his hold as if he was discarding a piece of trash. Daphne’s hands immediately flew to massage her jaw. It hurt a lot, but she knew that she was in no position to whine about it because it should be nothing compared to Bryon’s.

Two men picked her up shortly after, holding her back from going after their leader.

They were absolutely mistaken if that was what they had really thought.

Her concern was directed toward Bryon alone. The man might harm him again, and she never wished to witness that again. It was unbearable to watch, realizing that she had no control, power, nor strength to take that person head-on.

“Please do not hurt him,” I pleaded softly. “He did not do anything. Why are you being cruel?

Bryon glared at me. “Shut the fuck up, Daphne.

Her face had gone pale.

“That is not one way to speak to a lady, Markins.

Bryon quickly apologized. “Please excuse my horrendous manners, Sir.

“I detest dishonesty among all. Would you be a lamb, and tell me who barked out the order to transfer her here, Markins?

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