You Know Like A Liar Novels & Stories

I'll carve off his fucking heels and make sure he never forgets what happens when you run from a predator. "See," I murmur, flipping through dollar after dollar, letting the paper snap between my fingers, "the problem with trustin' a liar is it makes you look like one too." My eyes cut to his, sharp as the blade in my hand. "So tell me, kid... are you a liar?" Doubt flickers across his face before he swallows it down, his throat bobbing hard. Too late. I already caught it. A feral grin spreads across my mouth. "Thought so."

Not like I'm in deep trouble with the mafia, and definitely not like I'm working undercover. So I used the safest lie I had. “I’m… fake-dating someone.”

"What? Do you expect me to say 'I hate you, too?' Nah, I'm not a liar." But I am a liar. I am a deceiver. I am a betrayer. Everyone around you is not someone you can trust. I hope I could say that but worse luck, I am one of everyone. 🔸🔸🔸

"I mean I don't believe it. I literally don't believe it. Sorry, but you're wrong." A chant from grade school ran through my head. Liar, liar. Pants on fire. It ran in loop mode. But deep down I knew Zander wasn't the real liar here. It was his father. He'd created an entire social infrastructure of lies. But how had he done it? And what was the real truth?

Every move said the same thing: he was in his element. This was a game. And it belonged entirely to him. I was already playing, whether I wanted to or not. “You know,” he said, his voice softening, almost coaxing, “I don’t like liars.” My chest tightened. “There is nothing I hate more than a liar,” he went on, his tone controlled, dangerous. “Because, do you know how dangerous a liar is?” I shook my head quickly, eyes wide. "No, I didn’t...." I tried to explain

a lie sprung forth. "No. That's everything you should know."

He said I was a rotten liar, but it was Rylan who lied! "Today, Dad chased me out of my room and made me live in the stairwell. The stairwell is so dark and cold. I'm so scared, but I'm also afraid Dad will get even angrier if I say anything. Will Dad stop being mad if I keep being a good boy? Will he stop blaming me?" …

I assure myself. Liar.

You sick liar. ________________________

Next, she rose to her feet so that she would sit on one of the chairs in the room instead of remaining on the floor like she had been doing when I pinned her down. I watched her get settled before clearing her throat. "There are different types of liars; the Liars who are very good at their stories and the little liars who cannot stick to one story," she explained. I narrowed my eyes as I listened to her speak. Could my father be a professional Liar? Could he be a criminal? "Now professional Liars make sure they memorize whatever story they plan to tell you so that it's always the same when they tell it. The details never change even if you were to ask them ten years later. They are that goo