Lover, Liar, Legend

Lover, Liar, Legend 5

Chapter 25

Morning came fractured through cheap blinds. Lena woke alone in the ravaged hotel bed, her body a map of ownership. The shower was running. She reached for her phone three new messages. Jake: “Can’t wait”. Daniel: “Left something for you in the nightstand”. Richard: “Looking forward to Friday”.

The shower cut off. Lena scrambled to sit up, wincing as the sheets pulled at sticky skin. The nightstand drawer revealed a slim black box inside, a silver collar with “Mine” etched in delicate script. Her pulse throbbed in her fingertips.

Mark emerged dripping, towel slung low on his hips. He took one look at the collar in her hands and grinned. “Put it on.” When she hesitated, he knelt on the bed, water from his hair dripping onto her thighs. “Or would you rather I call Jake back? Tell him you changed your mind?”

The metal was cold against her throat. The clasp clicked shut with finality. Mark’s approving hum vibrated through her as he kissed the hollow above the collar. “Perfect.” His phone buzzed on the carpet. He grabbed it, glancing at the screen before tossing it to her. “Answer.”

Richard’s name flashed again. Lena swallowed hard. The collar pressed into her windpipe. “Yes?” she answered, voice thin.

“Lena!” Richard’s relief crackled through the speaker. “I was worried you left early yesterday.” A pause. “Everything okay at home?”

Mark’s fingers tightened in her hair, warning. Lena closed her eyes. “Everything’s fine,” she lied. “Looking forward to Friday.”

She hung up before Richard could respond. Mark kissed her then, deep and slow, his thumbs wiping away the traitorous tears that slipped free. “Good girl,” he murmured against her mouth. The collar gleamed in the morning light.

chapter 26

The hospital gown scratched Lena’s wrists as she twisted the admission bracelet around and around. Three days since Mark had carried her unconscious into the ER, two since the nurses stopped asking how she’d gotten the internal tears. The discharge papers lay unsigned on the bedside table.

Mark slumped in the visitor’s chair, knuckles raw from whatever he’d punched after the doctors kicked him out of her room. "Tell me why," he said, voice ragged. Not angry anymore—just hollow.

Lena watched raindrops slide down the window. The truth sat on her tongue like a confession: “Because when Richard bends me over his desk, I forget the peeling wallpaper in our bathroom. Because the harder you f**k me after finding out, the wetter I get. Instead, she whispered, "It won’t happen again."

Mark laughed a short, bitter sound. He stood abruptly, the chair screeching. "We’re leaving this shithole town."

The new apartment smelled of fresh paint and lemon cleaner. Lena ran her fingers over the pristine walls while Mark unpacked boxes marked KITCHEN in her shaky handwriting. No water stains here, no curling edges. She tested the words in her head: I’m someone new now.

Richard’s last text “You can’t just disappear” glowed on her locked screen until she deleted it.

Chapter 27

At the marketing firm, her new boss Darren had kind eyes and a habit of lingering by her desk. "The Johnson presentation?" he asked on her third day, palm resting on the back of her chair. Lena inhaled his sandalwood cologne as she handed him the files, her fingers brushing his.

The first time was in the supply closet, Darren’s mouth muffling her moans against shelves of printer paper. The second was his Audi’s backseat, her knees grinding into the leather. By the third week, Lena stopped counting stopped pretending this wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted when she promised Mark a fresh start.

The night she brought Darren home, she told herself it was different. “Our new bed deserves new memories,” she thought as she unbuckled his belt by the fireplace. Darren groaned her name into the curve of her neck, hands rough under her skirt

The front door clicked open.

Chapter 28

Lena froze mid-arch, Darren still buried inside her. Mark stood silhouetted in the doorway, car keys dangling from one hand. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Mark turned and walked out, the door shutting softly behind him.

Darren pulled out with a wet sound. "Should I—?"

Lena clenched around the sudden emptiness. "Finish."

Mark returned at 2:17 AM, whiskey sharp on his breath. Lena pretended sleep until his hands flipped her onto her stomach. No words this time, just the rip of fabric and the blunt force of him splitting her open. She bit the pillow to muffle her scream.

When he came, it was with a snarl against her shoulder blades. Lena felt the warm trickle before the pain registered.

The ER nurses this time exchanged glances. "You need to press charges," the younger one whispered while stitching her.

Lena studied her reflection in the trauma room’s glass the collar Mark had given her glinting under the fluorescent lights.

Five weeks later, Darren pinned her against his office window, downtown traffic crawling below. "You’re f*****g addicted to me," he panted, thrusting harder. Lena clawed at the glass, watching their fogged breath spread like a confession.

Mark’s call came as she was straightening her skirt. "Pack your things," he said, eerily calm. "I’m sending your photos to everyone you know."

Lena stared at the fresh hickey purpling on her wrist. Somewhere beneath the fear, relief uncoiled like smoke. Finally,she thought, someone will see.

Chapter 29

The discharge papers crinkled under Lena’s fingers as she signed her name with a hand still shaky from painkillers. The nurse had given her extra gauze for the stitches between her thighs, her voice carefully neutral as she’d explained the care instructions. Mark waited by the elevator, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

Their new apartment was sterile in its emptiness—bare walls, unpacked boxes, a bed still wrapped in plastic. Lena traced the fresh bandages through her sweatpants while Mark poured himself a drink, the ice clinking like a countdown. "Block his number," he said finally, not looking at her.

Lena’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Darren’s latest text: “Miss the way you scream for me.” She swallowed hard. "I will."

Mark’s laugh was a jagged thing. He drained his glass and grabbed his keys. "I’m done watching you lie." The door slammed behind him hard enough to rattle the framed hotel art they’d never bothered to hang.

Two weeks passed in a haze of silence and unspoken rules no touching, no shared meals, no questions about where Mark went after midnight. Lena kept her phone face-down, but Darren’s messages piled up like kindling. “Conference room B. Now. “ Hotel Valencia, room 412.” She deleted them with trembling fingers, then found herself in the supply closet with her blouse unbuttoned ten minutes later.

Chapter 30

Mark came home to find her scrubbing at a wine stain on the couch, her sleeves rolled up to reveal the fresh bruises circling her wrists. He didn’t ask. Just grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "You’re pathetic," he breathed, close enough for her to taste the whiskey on his tongue.

Lena’s breath hitched. "I know."

The slap came fast, her head snapping to the side. Mark’s fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her upright. "Say it again."

"I’m pathetic." Her voice broke on the last syllable. Mark kissed her then, brutal and biting, his hands shoving her jeans down to her knees. She came with a sob, her nails scraping the pristine walls.

Chapter 31

The anonymous photo arrived on a Tuesday, Mark bent over some blonde in a motel bed Lena didn’t recognize. She stared at the grainy image, her stomach churning with something hotter than rage. That night, she waited until she heard Mark’s key in the lock before letting Darren’s call go to voicemail. "Who was she?" Lena asked, perched on the arm of the couch.

Mark shrugged off his jacket. "None of your f*****g business."

The fight escalated, broken glass, shattered picture frames, Lena’s choked scream when Mark pinned her against the fridge. "You don’t get to act jealous," he snarled, his knee forcing her legs apart. "Not when you’re still his little office slut."

Lena spat in his face.

Mark wiped his cheek slowly, eyes dark. Then he dragged her to the bedroom by her hair, f*****g her with a violence that left her gasping into the pillows. After, as he zipped his jeans, Lena curled onto her side, blood smearing the sheets. "We’re done," Mark said, tossing a wad of cash onto the nightstand. "For real this time."

The front door slammed. Lena lay very still, listening to the echo fade. Her phone buzzed Darren, again. “You free tonight?”