Two Truths and a Lie

by Ashley Stoyanoff

  Good God, I’m not sure what to say.

  My lack of response prompts him to continue. “I missed it for a while. I was in college, not home all that much. It wasn’t until I finished school and was about to apply for the Police Academy that I really noticed the changes. I followed him one night, got footage of him destroying evidence at a crime scene. It was an attempted murder. Rival gangs and he was working with both of them.”

  I gasp. I don’t mean to, but it slips out and I bring my hand up to my mouth. “Oh my God.”

  “He was bringing his buddies home to meet Mona,” Jason says, shaking his head. “Invited criminals into our house to have dinner with our family, playing them off like old college friends. He could have gotten her killed. Sooner or later they would have clued in he was working them both.”

  Oh God.

  Oh God.

  I don’t want to believe him. It seems … impossible.

  Mr. Chapman wouldn’t do this, would he?

  I study Jason, looking for something to tell me that this isn’t true, but I see nothing. Nothing but hurt, as though what he’s telling me stings him to say out loud.

  I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry your dad did that? It doesn’t seem appropriate. Doesn’t seem right.

  He closes his eyes and stays like that for a bit, as though he doesn’t want me to see him hurting. He doesn’t want me to see the pain in his eyes.

  But I see it.

  It’s clearly displayed on every inch of his body.

  When he finally opens his eyes again, he takes my hand, bringing it to his thigh and holding it there. “I decided not to be a cop after that. I also decided he shouldn’t be one either, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn him in. He’s my old man and Mona … fuck … he’s still her world. She loves him like crazy.”

  My chest aches from his words and guilt nags at me. I want to apologize for even bringing it up. “Jase, I’m sor—”

  “Stop,” he says, cutting me off. “Don’t be sorry. You’ve got no reason to be, darlin’.”

  His words should make me feel better, but they don’t. “It bothers you to talk about it. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  “I made him quit the force,” he says, choosing to ignore my apology. “I’ve been holding the evidence against him to make sure he doesn’t go back.”

  Oh my God.

  The bar. The parking lot.

  It all makes sense now.

  I stall, mulling over what he’s told me, trying to pick my words carefully. “You thought that’s why I was here? Wes said I wasn’t the first person Mr. Chapman sent to you.”

  “No, you weren’t,” he confirms. “He’s been trying to get the evidence for five years now. He’s not a fan of me holding it over his head. But you were different. You’re not what he usually sends to get my attention.”

  “So this case, my case, did you take it because of him?”

  “At first, yeah,” he says and lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. “I guess it had an influence. I thought he was jerking you around.”

  I furrow my brow. “Does that mean you don’t think he’s, um, jerking me around anymore?”

  “What I mean is, before you shot me with a Taser and I saw that panicked look on your face, I was taking the case because of him. You seemed so sweet, innocent, and you were desperate. I couldn’t stand by, knowing he could be using you.”

  What about after I shot him?

  “And now?”

  He doesn’t respond, instead he leans toward me and presses a soft kiss on my lips, before pulling back. “Give it another hour, darlin’, and then we’ll go grab something to eat.”

  Jason stands up, tapping the screen on his phone and bringing it to his ear as he slips out of the room. Sighing, I turn back to the photos, and get back to work, not even a little bit sure of what to make of everything he just told me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Elena

  Days pass … a week … two weeks.

  They just keep slipping by.

  I’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, the same thing. Wake up, go to the station, look at photos, come home.

  Wash, rinse, and repeat.

  Jason is always with me, and the odd times he can’t be, Wes or Vance takes his place.

  I’m grateful for that.

  I’m relieved.

  Peck is … missing.

  He followed me around for two full days after my brother was thrown in jail, and then, he just up and vanished. He didn’t go back to New York. The official story from his department is that he took a sabbatical. Supposedly, the false lead he chased on his missing fiancée crushed him.

  But it’s not true.

  According to Cruz, he’s been suspended with pay, pending an investigation of my complaint against him. The whole thing is being kept quiet. I don’t know if it’s for my benefit, or Peck’s.

  Either way, I don’t really care.

  No one’s heard from him.

  No one’s seen him.

  And the only person back home that knows the lead on my whereabouts wasn’t false is Peck’s captain.

  I like to believe he gave up, but the guys don’t share my optimism.

  They believe he’s still here.

  Waiting.

  Watching.

  Biding his time.

  Jason told me he feels it in his gut, and his gut is never wrong. I think he’s being slightly overprotective.

  The kitchen is quiet. Jason is sitting at the table. He’s reading. Reading my case file. He reviews it daily, combing through Peck’s financials and my medical reports, looking for something he may have missed.

  I’m beginning to think that we’re never going to find something to put Peck in jail, and oddly enough, I’m almost okay with that. In a sense, I’ve gotten what I wanted. He’s leaving me alone.

  I stand at the island, wrists deep in ground beef. It’s Saturday and we’re having a small party tonight. A few friends, good food, and drinks. More importantly, we’re all supposed to be taking the day off. Something that I think all of us could use right now.

  Jason doesn’t share my thoughts on that. No matter what I try, I can’t get him to forget the case, even for a day.

  The guys have worked on a couple other cases over the last two weeks. Favors for Cruz. It’s the only time Jason took a break from my stuff. He chased down a few skips with Wes and Vance, brought them to Cruz, and got right back to work, reviewing my file.

  His phone rings and I look up as he reaches for his cell, answering it. “Yeah?”

  He’s silent, listening. Whatever the call’s about doesn’t make him happy. He tenses, and his jaw ticks.

  I sigh. I feel so drained. It’s driving me insane. It’s like I’m back in hiding, waiting again. Waiting for something to happen.

  I’m starting to wish I’d gone with the wire option, and I think Jason is, too. He’s been … unsettled the last few days. Restless.

  “Don’t care,” he growls into the phone. “I want that fucker found before Elena and I leave.”

  I flinch at his words, at the reminder that I’m going home next week, and dig into the ground beef, mixing in the oats vigorously.

  Jason notices and he curves an eyebrow at me in question, but he stays on the phone. I hesitate before shaking my head and offering up a small smile.

  What am I supposed to say?

  That I’m worried about seeing my parents again? He’ll most likely laugh at me and tell me I’m worrying about nothing.

  And besides, I’m the one who made a big deal about going. Jason wanted me to wait until Peck is found. He tried to get me to call them instead, but calling my parents just didn’t seem like the right thing to do.

  I need to see them.

  It’s time.

  And the restraining order is there to protect me.

  The argument lasted three days, but in the end, he agreed as long as he goes with me.

  But now that the plane tickets have been purchased, I can’t
help but wonder if they will believe me when I tell them what happened.

  What will they do?

  What will they say?

  Will they expect me to pick up and start right where I left off?

  And where does that leave Jason and me?

  I think that’s the thing that’s eating at me the most.

  “Don’t care about the cost, Wes,” Jason says. “Find him. Whatever it takes.”

  He hangs up, tossing the phone down, his eyes never leaving mine, as I beat the ground beef into a pulp. It feels as though an eternity passes as he watches me, trying to get inside my head, before he says, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  But I’m not okay.

  I ache.

  I ache so, so much.

  I want to see my parents again. I really do. I miss them like crazy. But each time I think about going, I feel as though I’m about to lose my life all over again.

  Jason’s coming with me, but he won’t stay.

  He’ll make me safe.

  Then he’ll go home.

  At the end of the day, I’m just a case.

  He lifts a hand and motions me forward. “Come here, darlin’. I wanna talk to you about something.”

  I don’t respond as I turn away from him and go to the sink. I wash the meat from my hands as quickly as I can, and then make my way over to him.

  When I stop in front of him, Jason brings his hands to my hips and tugs me down onto his lap. His arms come around me, pulling me close, and he kisses me, a barely there press of his lips against mine.

  “You give any more thought to changing your major?” he asks, his tone soft.

  I blink. That’s what he wants to talk about?

  “No,” I say. “No, I haven’t.”

  He smiles, amusement flashing in his eyes. “The guys and I have been thinking about opening an office.”

  “Uh-huh,” I mumble. I don’t have a clue why this conversation needed me to stop getting the burgers ready for tonight, but I’m not complaining.

  I love his arms around me.

  I tuck my face into his neck, snuggling close. Have to enjoy the contact while I can, right?

  “PRG Investigations is gonna need an office manager,” he says. “Someone to book cases and keep shit organized.”

  “Mmmm-hummm.”

  “CSU has a campus here,” he tells me. “They have a great business program. I think you’d like it. There’s still time to register for the fall semester.”

  My flesh springs with goose bumps.

  Is he …?

  Is he really asking …?

  Oh my God.

  I meet his eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “I want you to come back with me,” he says. His voice is so earnest, his gaze, pleading. “When I leave New York, I want you to come home with me.”

  I can tell he means it; his voice is genuine. I close my eyes and when I open them, Jason is staring at me expectantly. “You want me to come back with you?”

  He nods his head very slowly, his smile faltering. “Yeah, darlin’, I do. Not sure what this is between us and I don’t know where it’s going, but I’m telling you right now, I sure as hell want to find out. I love having you here, going to sleep with you in my arms. I love waking up with you, and coming home to you. Don’t want that to stop. Don’t even want to think about it stopping.”

  My breath catches, and I swallow hard. “Do you really mean that?”

  He doesn’t respond right away, glancing down at his arms circling me. When his eyes lift to mine once more, I can see he means it.

  He looks so vulnerable.

  So nervous.

  It’s odd.

  It’s unsettling.

  My chest burns. I inhale a harsh breath, but it feels as though no air enters my lungs.

  My heart screams at me to say yes, my brain hollers to proceed with caution. I’ve only known him a few weeks. Yes, we’ve spent every second together and we already live together, but there’s still so much more to learn.

  What if it doesn’t work out?

  What if it does?

  Is this something I even want?

  Yes. I want him. I want this.

  All this time I thought I lost my life when I ran away, but now that I may actually go back to it, I realize that perhaps it was never really lost.

  Maybe I just hadn’t found it yet.

  At some point in the last few weeks, I’ve made a life here. A life that I want to keep.

  “I mean it,” he says. “I want you to move in with me. Haven’t been able to think about anything else since I bought those plane tickets. It’s driving me insane thinking I could lose you in just a few days. Don’t wanna let you go, darlin’.”

  He pauses, smiling down at me, waiting for me to say something, but I don’t. I can’t seem to push a single word past my lips.

  Oh God, I freeze.

  His arms squeeze me, before he places me back on my feet. “Just think about it, yeah?” he asks, and before I can form a response, he stands up and walks out of the room.

  Jason

  I should have goddamn waited.

  The plan was to talk to her about it after we got to New York. I thought I’d meet her parents, let her get a feel for her old life, and let her decide if it was what she wanted.

  I meant to give her time.

  I wanted her to experience what she’d been missing out on before she made the choice to give it up for something else.

  But that flinch …

  I didn’t miss it. I also didn’t miss the dread in her eyes when I mentioned our trip.

  Maybe I’m delusional, but I swear, at least for a second, she looked as though she didn’t want to go.

  Or perhaps it’s only that I don’t want her to go.

  We’ve been living together, sharing a bed, fucking, and playing at being a couple for weeks. And I want more. I want all of her.

  I feel like an ass. A selfish, stupid ass for putting her on the spot like that.

  Fuuuuck. I need some space. I need to give her space. I don’t want her to feel like I’m hovering, or pushing for an answer, so I pace around the house, sitting in one room for a bit before moving on to the next, making sure to avoid the kitchen.

  I don’t know if I can take an answer from her right now anyway.

  I look at the case file some more.

  I make a few calls, following up on leads for Peck’s whereabouts.

  I even consider calling my old man. Elena’s been on my ass about talking it out with him. They’ve been talking again for about a week now, and just as he did with my mother, my old man has weaseled his way back in and convinced Elena to forgive him.

  She told me the other day that his heart was in the right place and you can’t be mad when he meant well. She thinks I’ll feel the same if I’d just talk to him.

  I don’t know if I believe it.

  I also don’t call him.

  An hour passes, or maybe it’s been three.

  Elena bangs around the kitchen. She’s gone all out for this. Last I counted there were eight different kinds of salads and she said she still had one more to make.

  We only have six people coming.

  It feels like a lifetime drifts by before people start to show up. I greet them. I smile. It’s pointless, though. One look from Wes, and I know he sees right through me.

  So naturally, I avoid him.

  Seems to be my game today.

  Avoid Elena.

  Avoid Wes.

  I work the grill. I chat with Cruz and his wife. Vance gives me a heads up that there was a Peck spotting earlier today in town, which I store in the back of my mind to check up on later. My mother talks to me about the salon. My old man shoots glances in my direction.

  And through it all, I watch Elena, while not allowing Wes to get me alone long enough to talk.

  The two things sound easy, but it’s a lot of goddamn work.

 
My gaze scans the yard, picking her out. She’s wearing a yellow summer dress. It’s thin, cotton, I think, with little straps, rounded neck, and hangs just above her knees. She’s laughing. It’s a real laugh. Her cheeks are rosy, and her arms are wrapped around her belly as though she’s trying to hold herself together.

  It’s my old man that’s making her laugh like that.

  It puzzles me.

  She puzzles me.

  I just don’t understand, no matter what his intentions were, how she can so easily forgive him for letting Peck know where she is.

  “Surprised you invited him.”

  Wes.

  Shit.

  I look at him. He’s watching me peculiarly, as though he knows exactly what’s eating at me and doesn’t have a clue why I haven’t stepped in and fixed it.

  Except, he has no idea.

  “I didn’t,” I say. “Elena did.”

  He laughs, amused that she took the liberty to butt in where she really shouldn’t have. I’d laugh, too, if I weren’t so twisted up about Elena’s lack of comment after I asked her to move in with me.

  “She’s really doing good here,” Wes says. “She looks relaxed, happy. Never thought I’d see that look on her.”

  He’s right, she is.

  My gaze goes back to her. She’s still laughing, smiling huge.

  Fucking gorgeous.

  Perfect.

  That smile … it lights her up like the crack of dawn.

  “You two have a fight?” Wes asks casually. “Or is it your old man that’s got you moping around?”

  I slowly shake my head, pulling my gaze away from Elena. If he were someone else, I’d brush him off, make something up, but he’s not. He knows me far too well to believe some bullshit. With a frustrated sigh, I grumble, “Told her about opening an office today.”

  He frowns, looking right at me. “Thought you were waiting on that,” he says.

  “I was,” I tell him. “Ended up asking her after you called. Thought the time was right, guess I was wrong.”

  A look of genuine surprise crosses his face. “She said no?”

  “Nope,” I say, letting out a humorless laugh and shaking my head. “She didn’t say anything.”

  Elena

  “Should have warned Jase about letting you loose in the kitchen.”