Chapter 52: Go Go Gadget Lie Detector

“Ouch.” I wince as Amelia, the head maid of the Knight family, tightens another wire around my bicep. The cold metal bites into my skin, sending little electric tingles up my arm.

“Sorry, Mr. Parker,” Amelia murmurs, her deft fingers adjusting the sensors with practiced precision. “We need a proper connection for accurate readings.”

I nod, trying to ignore the growing sense of unease in my gut. This whole setup feels like something out of a cheesy crime drama, strapped to a chair, wires snaking across my body, while Erica looms nearby with a dangerous glint in her eye. ‘How has she not busted this thing out before today?’

“There,” Amelia says finally, stepping back to survey her handiwork. “The lie detector is ready for calibration, Miss Knight.”

Erica’s face splits into a predatory grin that turns me on in a big way. She saunters over, trailing her fingers along the back of my chair. “Excellent work as always, Amelia,” she purrs while staring at me.

I can feel the heat of her body as she leans in close, her breath tickling my ear. “So, Jason darling... anything you’d like to confess before we start? Any dirty little secrets you’ve been keeping from me?”

Her tone is light and playful, but there’s a razor-sharp edge underneath that makes my heart race. I swallow hard, plastering what I hope is a casual smile on my face.

“Nope, can’t think of anything,” I say with a shrug. “I’m an open book, remember?”

‘Off hand, I feel like I’ve been pretty good about this. I even told her when Brooke almost assaulted me.’

Erica narrows her eyes, her gaze boring into me like twin blue lasers. “We’ll see about that,” she murmurs, her voice low and dangerous.

Amelia clears her throat, breaking the tension. “Let’s calibrate the machine, shall we?” she suggests, her crisp accent cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Is your name Jason Parker?”

“Yes,” I reply, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach.

“Where do you live?” Amelia continues, her eyes fixed on the readout.

“This mansion,” I answer, glancing around at the opulent room.

“Who is your mother?”

“Emily Parker,” I reply.

Amelia nods, satisfied after looking at the lie detector. “The machine is calibrated and functioning correctly, Miss Knight,” she reports, stepping back with a slight bow.

Erica’s eyes glitter with anticipation. She leans in close. “Now, Jason,” she purrs, her fingers trailing along my jawline. “Let’s talk about Tessa Carpenter.”

I gulp, feeling like a mouse caught in a cat’s paw. Erica’s touch is gentle, but I can feel the latent strength in her fingers. One wrong move and those same hands that caress me so tenderly could easily snap my neck. ‘And I fuck with that real hard.’

“What about her?” I managed to croak out, but my mouth suddenly dried.

Erica’s smile is sweet, but her eyes are hard as flint. “Did you find her attractive?”

I look down at the lie detector, its needles quivering like nervous butterflies. The machine hums softly, a metallic heartbeat in the tense silence of the room.

I sigh, not from nervousness but from a resigned acceptance of what’s to come. It’s like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing you’re about to jump.

“Yes,” I admit.

Erica’s reaction is immediate and visceral. Her lips pull back in a snarl, revealing teeth that seem unnaturally sharp in the dim light. Her blue eyes flash dangerously, like lightning in a summer storm. The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees.

“Is she more attractive than me?” Erica growls, her voice low and threatening. Each word drips with barely contained fury, like a dam about to burst.

“No!” I exclaim, my voice rising with genuine emotion. “Absolutely not. Not even close.”

Erica’s head whips around so fast I’m surprised I don’t hear her neck crack. “Amelia,” she barks, her tone demanding immediate confirmation.

Amelia nods with military precision. Her face is a mask of professional detachment as she confirms, “He’s telling the truth, Miss Knight. The readings are clear.”

Some of the tension leaves Erica’s shoulders, but her eyes are still hard, calculating. She turns back to me, her gaze intense enough to melt steel. “Good,” she snarls, the word more threat than praise. “But what exactly do you find so attractive about Tessa?”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Then I look Erica directly in the eyes, unflinching. “Her boobs,” I say plainly.

Amelia’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion. She glances at the machine, then back at me, clearly baffled. “He’s... still telling the truth,” she says hesitantly, as if she can’t quite believe it herself.

Erica sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose as if annoyed and unsurprised. “What else?” she demands, her voice tight with barely contained frustration.

I swallow hard. “I like her goth style,” I admit, then quickly add, “but I like your style a lot more. You’re way cooler.”

As I speak, I find myself staring into Erica’s eyes. They’re like twin blue flames, burning with an intensity that excites me. My heart races, and I can feel a familiar warmth spreading through my body. ‘God her anger is such a turn on.’

Erica’s expression grows even fiercer, her jaw clenching visibly. She leans in close, her face mere inches from mine as she assess my eyes. “Stay focused!” she yells, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

As Erica leans in close, my eyes are drawn irresistibly to her lips. They’re full and soft, slightly parted as she breathes heavily in anger. A hint of her perfect white teeth peeks through, reminding me of how they feel grazing my skin.

“Miss Knight, the readings are becoming erratic whenever Mr. Parker looks at you. It’s interfering with getting clear responses.”

Erica’s fierce expression morphs into one of smug pride, though she tries to hide it behind an annoyed scowl. “Tch. Typical,” she mutters, but I catch the pleased glint in her eye.

“Sorry for finding you so hot,” I quip.

Erica narrows her eyes, ignoring my flirtatious comment. Her gaze is sharp and probing like she’s trying to peel back the layers of my mind with sheer willpower. The air in the room feels thick, charged with an electric tension that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“There’s something more here,” she says slowly, each word dripping with suspicion. “I can feel it. What are you not telling me about Tessa?”

I sigh again, the sound heavy with resignation. “Tessa... she was my crush during freshman and sophomore year,” I admit, the words tumbling out like pebbles down a hillside.

The effect is immediate and explosive. Erica’s eyes widen, then narrow to dangerous slits. Her nostrils flare, and her lips pull back in a snarl that would make a lioness proud.

“What?” she hisses, the single word laced with enough venom to kill a small animal.

I take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady as I face the storm of Erica’s fury. “It was before we met,” I say calmly, my eyes locked on hers. “The only girl I crush on now is you.”

Her eyes narrow, searching my face for any sign of deception. “Did you have a crush on me before we met?” she demands, her voice low and dangerous.

I pause, considering her question. Then, feeling a sudden surge of boldness, I counter, “Did you have a crush on me before we met?”

Erica’s face briefly flushes, but then snaps back to anger. Her eyes flash dangerously, like lightning in a summer storm. “This isn’t about me,” she growls, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

I lean forward in the chair, as much as the wires allow, my voice soft but firm. “Before we met, it doesn’t matter, Erica. What matters is now.”

For a moment, Erica’s fierce expression wavers, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. Then her features soften slightly, the hard lines of anger melting into something more vulnerable. “I should be the only thing that matters to you forever,” she says, her voice.

“I completely agree. You are the only thing that matters to me. I would kill for you.” I reply calmly, feeling the tension in the room start to dissipate like morning mist.

Erica looks over at Amelia, and she nods.

Erica rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth twitch upward. She takes a deep breath, visibly trying to regain her stern demeanor. “Alright, fine. One last question then Jason, are you keeping any other secrets from me?”

I freeze, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over me as I remember a doozy of a secret. “Is it... okay, if I don’t say it?” I ask hesitantly.

Erica looks at me with narrowed eyes, her expression reminiscent of a parent dealing with a fussy child who refuses to eat their vegetables. “No,” she says firmly. “Tell me right now.”

“I don’t want to get yelled at, though,” I protest weakly.

Her eyes flash dangerously. “I’ll be the judge of whether you get yelled at or not,” she says, her voice low and threatening.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. With trembling hands, I reach behind my back and slowly pull out the Walther P99 pistol she got me for Christmas, the one with the serial number shaved off.

As I place the gun on the table, Amelia’s eyes widen in shock. Her normally composed features contort into a mask of horror, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp. The color drains from her face, leaving her complexion as pale as the pristine white gloves she wears.

“Mr. Parker!” Amelia exclaims, her voice a mix of disbelief and alarm. “Where on earth did you get that? Surely, you know it’s illegal for men to possess firearms!”

Her hands tremble slightly as she takes an involuntary step back, her gaze fixed on the gun as if it might suddenly come to life and attack. The metal of the Walther gleams menacingly in the dim light of the room, its presence as jarring as a snake in a flower garden.

To my surprise, Erica seems utterly unfazed by the weapon on the table. Her expression remains calm, almost bored, as if I’d pulled out nothing more interesting than a stick of gum.

“No, honey,” she says, her voice dripping with condescension. “I meant any other secrets. I knew you were carrying this with you today.”

“What?” I blurt out, my mind reeling.

Erica’s eyes narrow dangerously, and her patience is clearly wearing thin. With lightning speed, she slams her hand down on the arm of my chair, the sharp crack echoing through the room like a gunshot.

“Focus, Jason!” she snarls, her face inches from mine. “Do you have any more secrets? Anything else you’re hiding from me?”

I blink rapidly, trying to process this new information. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, like a jigsaw puzzle thrown into a blender. The gun, Erica’s knowledge of it, and the lie detector test all swirl together in a confusing maelstrom.

“I... no,” I stammer, shaking my head while overwhelmed about her knowledge of the gun. “No more secrets, no. How did you know about the gun?”

Erica sighs as she starts to release me. Her fingers deftly worked at the wires binding me to the machine. “I saw the bulge in the back of your pants at school,” she explains, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “I didn’t want to freak everyone out, so I chose to remain silent.”

I watch Erica’s face as she works, her brow furrowed in concentration, her blue eyes focused intently on her task.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” I ask.

Erica pauses, her hands stilling for a moment. She looks up at me, her gaze softening slightly. “Because,” she says, her voice low and intense, “I know you would only use it on someone who deserves it.”

The last strap falls away, and I’m free. I stand up slowly, my muscles protesting after being held in one position for so long. The room seems to spin for a moment, and Erica grabs me to steady me.

“Go shower,” Erica commands, her voice returning to its usual authoritative tone. “I’ll meet you in there in a minute.”

I nod, still a bit dazed by the whole experience. As I make my way towards the door, I can feel Erica’s eyes on me, burning into my back like twin lasers.

After closing the door, I start to ponder my secrets. ‘Is there even anything I keep from Erica?’

Like a bolt of lightning striking my brain, a realization hits me so hard I nearly stumble. My hand shoots out to steady myself against an antique side table, its polished surface cool under my palm.

‘I’m not from this world.’

The thought reverberates through my mind, growing louder with each echo. How could I have forgotten something so monumental? The truth of my origin, the fact that I’ve somehow been transported to this bizarre, gender-flipped reality, it should have been the biggest secret of all. Yet it had completely slipped my mind during Erica’s interrogation.

‘Granted, it’s not really a secret in the traditional sense. If Erica had point-blank asked me if I was from a different world, I would have told her the truth without hesitation. However that question would be unlikely at best.’ I ponder in wonder.

‘Still though its strange that it slipped my mind. Perhaps i’ve been here to long. Or perhaps something was stopping me from remembering earlier? Maybe The gun conversation threw me for a loop too. Or maybe it’s God stopping me. The devil could have been doing it to. Hell even Santa maybe. Who knows.’ My thoughts jump to conspiracy.

‘Oh wait, Louis and I talked about this with no issue. Hmmm. Oh well, who cares. It’s not like it changes anything, regardless.’