Chapter 39 – I Know You’re Lying
Sam's POV
The common room had emptied out, but the air still reeked of spilled liquor and cigarette smoke. I should’ve left with the others, but my legs wouldn’t move. My heart was still racing from the game, from Declan’s smirk, from the way Elias’s eyes had pinned me in place like he could see straight through my skin.
And then he leaned in. Close enough that I felt his breath against my ear.
“I know you’re lying.”
Every nerve in my body froze.
I tried to laugh, but it came out brittle. “About what? That I’ve never cheated on a test? Because, yeah, guilty. Algebra nearly killed me.”
Elias didn’t smile. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark in the dim light. “Don’t play with me, Sam.”
I forced my shoulders into a casual shrug even though my chest was caving in. “You’re drunk. Everyone’s drunk. Go to bed.”
His hand shot out, catching my arm. Not rough, but steady. Unshakable. “I’m not drunk enough to miss the way you dodge every real question. You think no one notices, but I do.”
I stared at him, my pulse loud in my ears. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”
His mouth tilted—not a smile, not even close. “That’s the problem. I don’t think I do.”
We stood there, locked in a standoff that felt sharper than any knife.
Finally, I shook my head and tugged my arm free. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” His voice dropped, softer but sharper. “When Declan dared you to strip your shirt off, you looked like you were about to bolt. Like the idea of anyone seeing you was… dangerous.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe I just don’t like being put on display.”
“Bullshit.”
The word cracked between us, low but heated.
I blinked, thrown. Elias almost never cursed.
“You’re hiding something,” he continued, his voice rough. “And it’s not the kind of thing you can keep up forever. Sooner or later, it’s going to slip. And when it does…” His eyes bored into mine. “It won’t be Declan who catches it first. It’ll be me.”
My stomach twisted. He sounded less like a threat and more like a promise.
I tried to keep my voice steady. “Why do you even care? If I am hiding something—hypothetically—what does it matter to you?”
Elias studied me, his silence heavier than words. Then he said, almost too quiet, “Because I need to know if I can trust you.”
Trust.
That word felt like glass in my throat.
I should’ve said yes. I should’ve lied and nodded and moved on. But the look in his eyes—it wasn’t just suspicion. It was… something else. Something that pulled the truth dangerously close to the surface.
So I deflected instead. “And what about me? Can I trust you?”
His lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “I’ve never lied to you.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “That’s rich. You keep your cards so close no one even knows what game you’re playing.”
His jaw ticked. “Maybe. But I’ve never lied.” He leaned closer, his voice a whisper that brushed against my skin. “That’s more than I can say for you.”
My breath hitched. “Elias…”
“Don’t.” His eyes softened, just for a second. “Don’t say my name like that. Not unless you’re ready to tell me what’s real.”
I looked away, heat crawling up my neck. My disguise felt paper-thin under his gaze, like he could peel it away with a single word.
The silence stretched, thick and unbearable.
Finally, I muttered, “You should go to bed.”
“You first.”
I turned toward the hallway, desperate to escape, but he followed. His footsteps were too close, his presence like a shadow clinging to mine.
“Elias, seriously—”
“Sam.” His voice cut me off, sharp but quiet. “Just answer me one thing.”
I paused, against my better judgment. “…What?”
He stopped just behind me. I could feel the heat of him, his breath on the back of my neck.
“Who are you really?”
My chest clenched so tight I thought it might break.
I forced a laugh, light, mocking. “Wow. That’s dramatic. Who am I? I’m Sam Hale. The guy stuck sharing a room with you. That’s all.”
But even as I said it, my voice cracked on the last word. Barely. But enough.
His silence told me he’d heard it.
We reached our room. I pushed the door open, eager to slam the conversation shut along with it.
But Elias followed me inside, closing the door softly behind him.
My heart stuttered. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure.”
“Of what?”
“That I’m not crazy.”
I turned on him, folding my arms to keep them from shaking. “Congratulations. You are.”
He stepped closer. And closer. Until I had to tilt my head back to look at him.
“You think you’re good at lying,” he murmured. “But your eyes give you away every time.”
My breath caught. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” He leaned down, his mouth inches from mine, his eyes locked on me. “Then prove it. Look me in the eye right now and swear you’re exactly who you say you are.”
I froze.
My tongue was heavy. My throat dry. I couldn’t do it.
He saw it. He knew it.
And the realization in his eyes burned hotter than any flame.
Elias stepped back, finally breaking the tension.
But his voice was quiet, certain. “You’re not who you say you are. And I’m going to find out why.”
He turned toward his bed, stripping off his shirt like it was the most casual thing in the world, like he hadn’t just ripped the ground out from under me.
I stumbled toward my own bed, my body trembling, my mind spinning.
When I lay down, staring up at the ceiling, his words echoed in my skull.
I know you’re lying.
And the worst part wasn’t that he was right.
It was that a piece of me almost wanted to tell him everything.
But then—just as I was finally drifting into restless sleep—I felt something.
A shift in the air. A presence too close.
I cracked my eyes open to see Elias leaning on one elbow, watching me across the narrow space between our beds. His voice was low, almost a whisper.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “You’ll give me the truth. One way or another.”
My blood turned to ice.