Behind Your Back

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “I know, I know, I just… I need more time, Saige. I need more time to figure this shit out.” There goes the hand in the hair and the mood has shifted again and it’s my fault. Damn.

  “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it now,” I say, putting my hand on his arm and leading him to the living room. “How about I actually make us dinner and we watch whatever awful movie I owe you for watching the one last night.” That seems to cool him down, but he’s surly for the rest of the evening. I consider getting down on my knees and putting his cock in my mouth because I’m sure that would snap him out of it, but I’m tired and my eyelids start falling closed not even halfway through the movie.

  “Come here,” he says, pulling me into his lap. I lay down and he strokes my hair until I fall asleep with Leo perched on my feet.

  The next few days are much the same. Sylas stays the nights with me and when I come home he’s always there to open the door for me. I don’t ask him about what he’s doing for my dad and he doesn’t offer any information. We’re so comfortable around one another, but then there are conversational landmines that have the potential to blow both of us up.

  I’ve barely talked to Dad, mostly because I’ve been avoiding him. It’s so much easier to lie to him when I’m not standing in front of him, or talking to him on the phone.

  We have another visit with Lizzy on Saturday and I’m only excited this time. Not nervous. I Skyped with her once during the week and I discovered that there are some of my favorite movies that she hasn’t seen yet, so I’m packing up some DVDs to take to her, along with some more books.

  “That’s really sweet,” Sylas says.

  “It’s the least I can do. I don’t really know how to do the sister thing. I’ve been an only child my whole life.” I wish there was a class or something I could take.

  “You’re doing a great job so far. Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Sylas says, brushing his hands down my back and squeezing my ass.

  He can’t seem to get his hands off me and I definitely don’t have a problem with it. He loves it when I lay on my stomach so he can look at my tattoo. It works in my favor because then I get to do all the looking at his tattoos that I want.

  He wears short sleeves now. It still shocks me when I see the exposed ink on his arms when we’re out. There are a lot of appreciative looks from other women, but I shoot them daggers from my eyes and they look away pretty damn quick.

  “I’m just scared I’m going to say the wrong thing and she’s going to get upset and hate me,” I say, confessing my worst fear where Lizzy is concerned.

  “Lizzy loves everyone. Literally. Everyone. Lizzy would probably give Hitler a hug.” Sylas wraps his arms around me and I laugh.

  “Hitler probably wouldn’t hug her back, though.” I turn in his arms to face him.

  “He doesn’t impress me as a hugger, no.”

  My phone rings and it’s another call from Dad.

  I ignore it.

  “Your father again?” Sylas asks. He knows I’ve been avoiding. One of the downsides of being in love with someone who notices everything.

  “Yeah. I’ve never avoided him like this before.” Sylas rubs my arms.

  “It’s not just about you, though. It’s about what I want from my life. I don’t want to do what he does. I want to work with art and study it and learn and see the world. I don’t want to have to keep remembering what my alias is, or where my weapon is so I can defend myself if I have to. I want to live a normal life.” I’ve been wanting to say this to someone, anyone, for a while now.

  “Oh,” Sylas says, stepping away from me. It’s like being hit with a blast of cold air.

  “What?” I say, and then it dawns on me. By rejecting my dad, I’m rejecting Sylas, since they’re basically doing the same job.

  “Sylas, wait,” I say as he tries to get away from me.

  “Just because I don’t want to do this, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to. I know how much this means to you, Sylas.” He lets me turn him around.

  “That’s… that’s not it at all, Saige.”

  “Then why are you upset with me?”

  He shakes his head.

  “I’m not. Listen, before I did the job with you, I was thinking about getting out. I’d just had enough, but I didn’t know how to end it. I had the guys depending on me and I couldn’t just bail on them. And then there was you and all I wanted was to be normal for you. To be a regular guy with a regular job.” I want to start laughing. We both want the same thing.

  “So what you’re telling me is that neither of us wants to be in the con game anymore.” He shakes his head again, a bemused smile on his face.

  “It appears so.”

  There’s just one problem and his name is Grayson Beaumont. My father.

  “Do you think you could talk to your father? Ask him if he could let us go? Maybe we could sign a contract and have it be a specified amount of time?” I’m surprised he didn’t. All his minions have contracts. Guess this was a different situation, seeing as how he has the blackmail material and whatever the thing is that Sylas wants. I can’t ask Dad what it is, because I’m not supposed to be talking to Sylas.

  “I wish I could, but I said I’d stay away from you.” And I can’t tell him I want to get out because it would break his heart. I only love a few people in the world, and I can’t hurt Dad.

  “So we’re fucked, basically,” he says and I nod.

  “Pretty much.”

  He sighs and pulls me into his arms again.

  “This is why I don’t believe in fate. If fate were real, we wouldn’t have anything standing in our way right now.”

  Now I’m shaking my head.

  “Fate isn’t easy. That doesn’t mean it real.”

  He kisses me on the nose.

  “You’re such an optimist,” he says. I’m not really. I just believe in things that he doesn’t believe in. That’s fine. He doesn’t have to believe.

  “I’ll talk to Dad. I’m going to tell him. Mom’s getting back on Sunday,” I say, making a face. It’s been nice having her gone.

  “I’m guessing I won’t be invited over for dinner anymore,” he says.

  “Probably not.” At least not right now.

  We’re interrupted by my phone ringing. I go to grab it and see that it’s Cash. Shit. I send it to voicemail and will call him back when Sylas isn’t around.

  “Who was that?” Sylas asks, and I bite my lip. I promised to be honest.

  “Promise you won’t get mad?”

  He gets mad anyway, but a lot of the anger is directed toward Cash.

  “It’s not his fault. I asked him to meet with me. I was supposed to tell you, but I didn’t. Things are going to so well and I didn’t want to fuck it up.” Pulling his phone out, he makes a call. I don’t need to guess who he’s calling.

  “Yeah, what the hell were you doing talking to Saige and then not telling me about it?” He listens for a moment and I slink out of the room and hide in my bedroom to give him some privacy.

  Not that he gets it. I can hear every word because he’s yelling.

  There’s a beat of silence and then the bedroom door bursts open.

  Yup, still pissed.

  “Can we talk about this?” I ask. We’ve never fought like this, so I have no idea how Sylas fights. If he’s silent, if he wants to get it out, or if he wants to stew on it for a few hours. This is the part of our relationship that we’ve never gotten to do. The normal stuff.

  “Sure. Talk,” he says.

  I take a breath before I begin. I hope he hears me out.

  “I didn’t know what to do. I had no one else to ask, so I called him. He knows you better than anyone, except maybe for Lizzy. I could tell you that I loved you but I didn’t know how to make you believe it. We just talked, and it wasn’t all about you.”

  His arms are crossed and I can tell he really doesn’t want discuss this. He probably wants to go find Cash and maybe solve his problems with a few blows. I
have the feeling that’s what he’s done in the past to settle disagreements.

  “I was going to tell you,” I say. “I meant what I said. Total honesty.”

  “Not telling me something is the same as lying to me, Saige. You’re smart enough to know that.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just so new for me. I’m used to keeping secrets.” How messed up is that? Lying is easier and more normal to me than telling the truth.

  I see the tension loosen in his arms and his face, just a tiny bit.

  “This isn’t going to be easy for either of us. There are bound to be bumps along the road. Doesn’t mean the trip isn’t worth it.” He’s worth it. I still feel like I know so little about him.

  “I’m not happy about it, and I’m not going to forget this, Saige. But I put part of the blame on Cash for not telling me. He knows better.” Cash is in for another tongue-lashing, that’s for sure.

  “He’s strange,” I say.

  That makes Sylas laugh and I know our first real fight is over and we didn’t even get to the makeup sex stage.

  “That’s one word for it,” he says. The tension is broken, so I feel comfortable asking questions I usually wouldn’t.

  “How did you first meet?” I ask. His face changes and the laughter fades. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I’m so desperate for information on him that I can’t find by hacking into his computer or phone or going through his apartment.

  He sits down on the bed and I sit next to him.

  “Cash saved me from getting my ass beat at a bar. I was drunk and pissed and itching for a fight. I started throwing punches and he grabbed my shoulder and basically… well, he let me beat the shit out of him. Or as much as I could, since I could barely stand. And then he handed me a glass of water and two aspirin and took me out to the parking lot to cool off. He asked me if I’d gotten it out of my system. I told him to fuck off. The next night I was at the same bar and so was he. We’d both been through hell and once we started talking it was like we’d known each other forever.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal.

  “That’s nice,” I say. “It’s good that you found each other.” I don’t know what it’s like to be floating in life. Adrift. I’ve always had Dad as my anchor. Even when I was an angry teenager and my mother didn’t understand me and I hated school and the friends I was supposed to be hanging out with, he was there.

  “I guess,” he says. I want to ask about the rest of his crew, but I don’t want to push for too much. I had laid everything out in a letter, but Sylas’ past is going to come to me in little bits and pieces. Little notes that I’ll assemble and put together in the book that is Sylas.

  “I’m sorry for not telling you,” I say. He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head.

  “I know this is a huge adjustment for both of us. We’re bound to fuck it up at least for a little while.” Hopefully I won’t fuck things up too badly.

  Twelve

  “New sister!” Lizzy screams, just as happy to see me as she was the first time.

  “New sister!” I say back, hugging her just as hard. Once the hugging is over, Lizzy takes my hand again and shows me some more of her art. They took a trip to a museum and she keeps telling me about “the dot picture” and shows me some she made. Pointillism. It makes me smile.

  “You know, your new sister studies art,” Sylas says. His hand is on my back and I love that he’s not afraid to touch me in public now. I wonder if Lizzy notices.

  “Really?” Lizzy says.

  “Yes. We should definitely go to the museum together sometime,” I say. I’m not sure if we’re allowed to take her out on her own, but I don’t see why not.

  “Yes, yes!” she says and then notices the presents we’ve brought. I got a little silly and decided to wrap everything, even though we’re basically regifting. Lizzy tears into the paper and it’s like we’ve brought her a pony or a million dollars or something. She’s over the moon.

  Seeing her so happy makes me happy. Sylas’ arm is around my shoulder now and he won’t stop looking at me.

  “What?” I finally say.

  “Nothing,” he says, but he’s not getting off the hook that easily.

  When Lizzy insists that we start watching one of the movies right away, we all pile onto her bed, and Sylas finds some microwave popcorn somewhere. I have the feeling he sweet-talked one of the nurses. He’s good like that.

  I brought her my entire John Hughes collection. She’d only seen Pretty in Pink, so we’re watching The Breakfast Club. I hope Sylas doesn’t think it’s too inappropriate for her, but he didn’t say anything when I put it in the box to bring here.

  Sylas is staring at me again.

  “What?” I whisper, turning to give him a look.

  “You’re mouthing the words.” What is he talking about?

  “I am?”

  He smiles.

  “You are. It’s cute.” He’s never called me cute before. It makes little flutters go through my stomach and I feel myself blushing.

  “Oh, and that’s even cuter,” he says, brushing one finger down my cheek.

  “Stop it,” I hiss so we don’t disturb Lizzy. She’s on my other side and her eyes are glued to the screen.

  “Make me,” he whispers back. This is definitely not the time or place to be flirting with me, with our sister sitting right here.

  Our sister.

  Lizzy is our sister. So strange.

  His hand starts to creep up and down my arm and I fight the urge to slap it away. I sigh and he pushes his luck.

  “Come here,” he says, pulling me into his chest and putting his arm around me. I resist for a fraction of a second, but then I let myself mold against him. Being with Sylas is so… satisfying. Even just like this, my body curves to fit against his. Like fate.

  I want to watch the movie, but I’m so relaxed my eyes close.

  “Shhh, your sister is sleeping,” Sylas says as I slowly wake. I don’t open my eyes though. I’m still in his arms, resting against his chest, his heart beating in my ears.

  “You love my sister,” Lizzy says, as if she’s stating a fact.

  “Yes, yes, I do. Very much,” he says, his fingers in my hair.

  I fight to keep my breathing even so he doesn’t know I’m awake. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping.

  “I’ll eat you up, I love you so,” he says, so low I barely hear it. He said the same thing to Lizzy and the quote rings a bell, but I don’t know what book it’s from.

  It’s time to wake up, so I slowly open my eyes and try to look a little confused.

  “Hey,” I say, looking up at him.

  “Hey,” he says back.

  “Hey,” Lizzy echoes and then giggles. “Hey, hey, hey!”

  The movie is over and now they’re playing Ferris Beuller’s Day Off.

  “Sorry for falling asleep,” I say, sitting up and combing my fingers through my hair.

  “It’s okay,” Sylas says, rubbing his thumb across my cheek.

  We watch the rest of the movie and Lizzy gets so excited during the scene where Ferris sings at the parade that she stands up on the bed and starts dancing along with the movie. That’s probably not allowed, but she’s so happy Sylas and I only hesitate for a moment before joining her.

  “We’re going to break the bed,” I say, a little breathless.

  “It’s worth it,” Sylas says and I’ve never, ever, seen him be this silly and goofy. I didn’t even know he could. He and Lizzy hop down to the floor and start dancing with each other. I can tell they’ve done this many, many times.

  I’ve never asked Sylas what his mother was like. I only have the information from Dad about her, and I’ve seen pictures. She was stunningly beautiful. A lot like Lizzy in that way. Blonde hair. Eyes like polished blue stones. A wide smile that lit up her face. And she loved to sing. Sylas told me once he was tone-deaf, but I didn’t believe that for a second.

  Sylas and Lizzy waltz around the room and I sit and watch. I want to take a
video of this so I can play it later.

  He’s happy. He’s happy and smiling and it’s so beautiful it makes my heart hurt. Even after losing his mother at the hand of his father, he’s still able to smile.

  Sometimes I’m afraid that because I haven’t been through something like he has, we can’t really connect on a deep level. It’s why he and Cash are so tight. They both know what it’s like to lose parents. I don’t. My mother may be a cold-hearted bitch, but at least she’s still alive.

  But then Sylas lets go of Lizzy and grabs my arm and we’re dancing together. He wasn’t bragging about his skills; he moves like someone who’s had training.

  Lizzy goes back to jumping on the bed as Sylas whirls me around the room. I start laughing and can’t stop.

  Sylas and I are both so light when we leave the Center we decide to take it slow as we drive back to my apartment. He takes a turn and I realize we’re heading toward the beach. Last time we were here, it was nighttime and I was freezing my ass off, even though I denied it.

  The sand is littered with people and large umbrellas and bright rectangles of towels and blankets. I wish I’d known we were going to make this little detour so I could have brought my suit and a towel.

  Sylas parks and turns to me.

  “Want to take a walk?”

  I nod and he comes around to open my door. It makes me smile that we’re back to him doing that. I like it. I hold my hand out and he takes it as we walk down the rickety wooden stairs to the sand. We both lean down and take our shoes off and roll up our pants. Sylas stashes the shoes under the stairs so no one steals them and then takes my hand again.

  “You were so happy today,” I say as we make our way down to the water’s edge. It’s still going to be chilly, but not nearly as bad as it was before.

  “It was a good day,” he says.

  “I’ve never seen you be so goofy before. So silly.” He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.

  “Lizzy brings it out in me, I guess.” She brings out the best in everyone. I wish Dad could see it. I know she’d bring out the best in him, too. But it’s not time yet to bring him into her life.