Beautiful Lies

by Gina Whitney

  Cam had to take a seat. He was straight and stiff as a board. I understood that he had to prop himself up from all that heaviness I just laid on him. He took a contemplative breath and said, “She—the person you’re pretending to be—is not you. You have to reclaim yourself, but you can’t do it with those pills. They are not doing anything except keeping you trapped in the past, giving you a false impression of freedom. I know it hurts. I’ve felt that kind of pain myself. But you went to that memorial with me and helped me face it. And I will do the same for you. I’m here and will do whatever it takes to help you overcome these demons. However, it is ultimately up to you. You have got to want to be better. You have got to want to be strong. You have got to believe in yourself. I can’t and will not do that for you. Am I understood?”

  I broke down in response to Cam’s words. I knew I could no longer tread the treacherous path I had been stumbling along. At the end of that path was death either through drugs or suicide, and I knew it. I curled up in a mass of tears on the bed, ashamed at being exposed and confused as to what to do next. But even though I was blubbering, I somehow felt a little bit better.

  Cam graciously spooned up behind me. His strong arms embraced my trembling body as he pulled me closer to his warm skin. I started to settle down as I closed my eyes with relief. His warm breath blowing across the back of my neck lovingly caressed me. I finally felt a sense of safety that I had never experienced before.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After that rocky morning, Cam and I spent two more days at the cabin. He bought me some clothes and cleared some space in a drawer and closet for me. We walked the trails, and he taught me about nature, which helped me overcome some of my fear about the woods. Cam turned out to be a pretty good cook as he indulged my taste buds with fine Italian cuisine. Nights were spent making love and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

  We were now on our way back home since Sig’s flight would be arriving later on that night. Cam drove slowly, way under the speed limit. He was in no hurry to get me back. Neither was I. I sat on the back of the motorcycle, hoping it would transform into some sort of time machine that would transport us back to a few days earlier.

  Unfortunately, we started our final approach to the destination. It was desolate and creepy out on the main road that was perpendicular to Sig’s driveway. Cam and I appeared to be the only two living creatures around. However, I did notice some strange car parked on the shoulder. As we drove past, I looked at the car. There was no driver, and the hazard lights were not flashing.

  Where did the driver go? We didn’t pass anyone coming up. And there is nothing at the other end of the road. Hmmm.

  I was about to point out the obvious car to Cam. However, as soon as he drove us to the entrance of the property, my mind went blank with dread. Cam’s bike grumbled toward the opulent mansion that might as well have been a carnival spook house. It looked so dark and drab. A sense of impending doom descended upon me. I squeezed Cam tighter as he parked the bike. We sat there for a few moments with me still clutching him.

  “I don’t want you to go either, but Sig is on his way,” Cam said.

  Hesitating, I let Cam go, and he assisted me off the bike. I mournfully sighed as I strapped my helmet back in place.

  “Well, I guess this is it. I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” I said while holding back tears.

  “For now it’s the only way,” Cam said, taking my hands. “When can I see you again?”

  I stared deeply into his eyes, those gorgeous mahogany pools. I wanted to swim and float in them. “I don’t know.”

  Cam suddenly grabbed me and gave me an earth-shattering kiss. But I heard the chime of the grandfather clock from inside the house. It was like a harbinger for the wickedness returning. Cam released our intertwined fingers.

  Hurriedly, I went inside, not daring to look back. If I had, I would have left with Cam. I opened that door as fast as I could before I changed my mind. Cam sensed my ambivalence and waited for me to come back. When he saw that I was not going to do that, he made sure I was safe and then got on his bike. I peeked out the window and watched Cam drive away, all my joy leaving with him.

  Little did I know that there was a spy hidden in a dense thicket of trees. It was Jacob, and he had been videotaping Cam and me. A sinister smile crossed his face as Cam unknowingly drove past him, headed to the main road. Unbeknownst to Cam, he passed that peculiar car—Jacob’s car—parked on the road’s shoulder. He did not even give it a second thought.

  As for me, I turned on all the lights in the house in a fruitless effort to ease my soul. I looked around at the penitentiary I was sentenced to, surrounded by all its invisible bars and specter guards. I was about to trudge upstairs to the bedroom, the main cell block, but caught a glance of Sig’s monstrous portrait instead. Possessed by an avenging spirit, I spontaneously pulled a pair of scissors from a hall desk and stabbed at the portrait like I was reenacting the shower scene in Psycho. Hysterical delight enveloped me as I ran the blades straight down the portrait. I stood there laughing like a madwoman… until I realized what I had done.

  Shit. How the fuck am I going to explain this? Sig’s ten-thousand-dollar painting ripped to shreds. He is most certainly going to take that out on my ass.

  If that happened, I could not call Cam and ask for his help. That would just give him an excuse to fuck Sig up, and then he would be in true danger. I had to deal with this on my own. I figured I would just lie like I always did with Sig, tell him I accidently knocked the painting down or some other ridiculousness. I might get slapped around some, but I could handle that.

  I wondered why I continued living this way. Why didn’t I stand up for myself and walk out that door? The reasons went beyond the typical excuses battered wives and girlfriends give. All of my reasons led to one place: my father. I knew that my relationship with Sig had its roots with my father, and until I reconciled that, I would not be strong enough to leave, and even if I did, my life would still be fucked up.

  The only thing left to do was go upstairs and let some water run over my body to relieve the tension that was ratcheting up inside of me. Besides, I had Cam’s spice all over me. I decided against a shower in favor of a bath; I had too much of Cam on and in me for a mere shower to remove. As I undressed, I noticed that I had no desire to take any of my prescriptions. Actually I felt surprisingly serene.

  I stepped into the steamy bath with the expectancy that things would go well between Sig and me. Maybe tonight when he got home, we could have a civilized conversation, maybe even some genuine levity. Hope almost sprang eternal.

  “Get up, you filthy tramp.”

  I thought I was dreaming when I heard those words. That is why I did not open my sleeping eyes right away. But they snapped open as soon as I was yanked out of bed and thrown on the floor. That is when I realized that what was going on was real. I was totally disoriented, startled from a dead sleep to being the victim of a full-on attack.

  When my eyes finally focused, I saw that my brutalizer was Sig. I swear his eyes were red like Satan’s. He stood over me holding a chunk of my hair in his hand.

  “What are you doing?” I said like a fool, expecting a rational response.

  Sig squatted over me and played a video on his phone. It was footage of Cam and me kissing. The first scene featured video of when Cam picked me up and the rest when he dropped me off. I was amazed that someone was so close to me, filming my every move. It was more disturbing that I did not even notice that they were there. Talk about a violation.

  “It’s not what you think,” I said. I know that was lame to say, but it was the first thing to pop into my mind. Sig was not buying it.

  “Out of all the men you could have fucked around with, you had to choose Cameron Sterling. You know what I said I would do if I found out who your lover was.”

  “Do whatever you want to me but please don’t hurt him,” I begged.

  Sig stepped over to the side, and I saw the shadows of tw
o other men in the room.

  “Gentlemen, please come forward,” Sig instructed.

  Out of the darkness the two sinister males emerged. Sig introduced them. At the time I had absolutely no idea who either of these men were, but they were introduced to me as Chief Pepperdine and Xander, no last name.

  “Seeing you down on the floor, begging for Cam’s life, has made me realize something about my initial promise,” Sig said.

  “Your initial threat, you mean,” I said defiantly.

  “No, no, no. You should know me well enough by now to know that I don’t make threats. I only make promises. But promises were meant to be broken. And I am breaking the one I made you. Well, sort of. See, I can look at you and tell that killing him would bring me no satisfaction. However, what will bring me pure delight is seeing you suffer. And the most suffering I can give you is the knowledge that Cam is still alive, and you can never have anything else to do with him. You will have to live with the fact that he will move on, meet another woman, possibly settle down and live a very happy life. You, however, will be with me…forever my worthless whore. And you want to know how I know this?”

  Sig motioned Xander over with a pair of pliers and a little container of acid. From the look on his face, Xander was stoked; he wanted to hurt me. I jumped up and tried run away, but Xander knocked me right back to the floor. He held my arms down at my sides with his knees. I tried to kick my way from under him, but he was just too heavy. Xander proceeded to force my mouth open and plunged the pliers in. My heart felt like it was going to explode as sheer panic overwhelmed me.

  I tried my best to escape by thrashing about like a fish on a shore as Xander started to pull my molar. The pain was so excruciating that I almost blacked out. Xander’s lips curled back tautly into a closed-mouth smile. Even with that grin he was the most terrifying man I had ever seen. This was because his eyes did not crinkle or narrow when he smiled and were void of any emotion except desire to inflict as much pain as possible.

  Xander was not the only one having a good time. A wicked smile found its way onto Sig’s face too. “That’s how I know you’ll be with me forever. You know that if you try to leave… well, let’s just say if you think the pliers are painful, just wait until that acid hits you.”

  Sig pointed at Chief Pepperdine, who was holding an elastor tool—what they use to castrate bulls. He said, “Now, if you do not stop seeing Mr. Sterling and gladly accept your position as my property, Cam will be clipped. No anesthetic, no chaser. If a neutered lover is not enough to keep you away then I will have to have Cam killed, but not before he is skinned first. See, you ignorant trollop, you cannot win this game. You have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I have got a team of people to shut you down. Once something belongs to me, it always belongs to me. That means you. Xander, you can stop pulling now.”

  Xander was disappointed that Sig would not let him finish ripping out my tooth. Before he took the pliers out of my mouth, he made sure to push them to the back of my throat. Sadistic shithole. He got off of me, leaving me to writhe in pain, choking and holding my throat.

  Sig dismissed the men and stood next to me. “So you understand your place, or do you need more lessons?”

  “I get it, Sig. Fuck, I get it.”

  “No more Cam?”

  I relented. “No more. I’m done with him. Just leave him be.” I did not dare to look at Sig, afraid that I would see the devil himself standing in front of me. Sig was right about one thing. It was worse to know that Cam was safe and that I could never see him again rather than dead. I know that was a morbid and selfish thought, but it was true. At least with death there is finality. However, if what you want is simply out of reach or taken away, that is torture.

  Sig pursed his lips and released a long breath like he was dragging on a cigarette after a good nut. Torturing me actually gave him an orgasmic charge. Sick fuck. He started out of the bedroom to join his evil colleagues but turned back.

  “By the way, what happened to my portrait?” he asked, surprisingly with not that much concern in his voice. He observed me holding my cheek as I tried to put pressure on my tooth to stop the throbbing. Sig grinned with pride. “Oh, who cares? I can get another painting anytime. That is a benefit of having money. You can buy whatever or whoever you want. I bought you right out of the bargain bin.”

  I got off the floor and rubbed my arms where Xander dug his knee into them. The pain from my tooth caused me to see stars as I stumbled into the bathroom. I thought about jumping out of the window to escape but looked down toward the driveway and saw Sig, Chief Pepperdine, and Xander. That is when I knew I had no place to go. I dared not bring Cam into this mess any more than he was already in it. Sig would come through on his “promises” regarding Cam’s punishment.

  I certainly was not going to involve Tamara. She was a good friend and deserved to be impervious to my bullshit. I had no money of my own, not even credit cards or bank accounts in my name. I had to get strong enough to leave this mayhem behind. Besides, even if Sig did not exist, there would be no way I could be with Cam as long as I remained as fucked up in the head as I was.

  Somehow I had to commit murder. I had to kill my alter ego. But she was a tricky bitch. She had perfect hiding places and knew the ideal times to attack me. She knew my every weakness and what I was most afraid of. My alter ego was best buddies with my father. He groomed her, showed her how to rule me. They conspired against me in tandem and were a perfect team. It was my alter ego that chose Sig, not me. She picked him because he was so much like my father. She knew he would pick up where my father left off. That is why I was so weak and pathetic around him. That is why he could do what the fuck he wanted to. My alter ego told me that I would be nothing more than Sig’s slave and that I might as well take those pills to at least feel better about it.

  I did not listen to my alter ego this time. I flushed all the pills down the toilet instead.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I sat at the window listening to the pattering of raindrops against the pane. The morose droplets mimicked the tears streaming down my face. I wiped my eyes as my blurred vision tricked me into seeing a fading mirage of Cam across the yard. The woe of a bitter chill raced through me as his phantom image totally disappeared into the wispy haze. I closed my heavy sweater around me, crawling into a cable-knit shell and wishing Cam was cradling me instead.

  An epic battle between my mind and soul had taken its toll on me. This was because Cam had been calling and texting me all week. I ignored the communication, which was about as easy as walking on glass. I had to let the love of my life go. Every time I thought about it, I could sense a panic attack coming on.

  Though the mirage had dissipated, Cam’s presence still hung heavy in the room—a revenant composed of all the life-giving oxygen I breathed in. With every inhale, my lungs burned from the searing remembrance of that man. The more breaths I took, the more the fire engulfed me. The point came where I found myself gasping as I begged to hit the bottom of the blazing bottomless pit I had been plunged into.

  The pills? Yes, I still had a secret stash in the house. These were the ones my alter ego would not let me throw away. When the agony of my separation from Cam became almost too much to bear, I nearly succumbed. That scenario played out nearly twenty-four hours a day, almost nonstop temptation.

  I even contemplated suicide, but what good would that have done? While I would be rotting in my grave, the whole world would rally around Sig. That monster would become a martyr who sacrificed his pure, undying love to the selfish, weak bitch who killed herself over nothing. But it would not have been over nothing; it would have been because I lost my life before destroying my body. And that life was Cam.

  Forcing Cam out of my life did not make me weak; it was a testament to my burgeoning strength. However, the separation had made me sick. A Herxheimer reaction was destroying and building me back up. Though this alchemy felt like it was killing me, it indeed had a purpose. That purpose, in the end, w
ould make me stronger because I had to unselfishly give Cam up to save his life. No, that did absolutely nothing to lessen the pain. But it gave me solace to know that at least Cam would be protected.

  Still, I wish that I had the chance to explain to Cam the reasons for my actions. Of course it was more than a little shitty leaving things the way I did. I wanted to call and tell him that I was not angry at him, that I had not had a change of heart, that I adored him. But fast-forwarding to a grim outcome, I accepted that maybe we just were not meant to be. I prayed that Cam would come to understand the seemingly cruel way I cut off all ties with him. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was make him feel the rejection that I had felt my entire life.

  But Sig was insane and made it clear what the repercussions would be if I continued seeing Cam.

  I actually had to propel my body off the window seat because it was drained by all the emotional drama that had transpired. I lumbered over to the remote control and turned on the television for a much-needed distraction from heartbreak. Collapsing onto the studded leather couch, I felt like a bowling bowl dropping on cement. Though Sig purchased that couch years earlier, it was still hard and stiff. It was his favorite piece of furniture in the entire house—hard and unyielding just like him.

  Flipping aimlessly through channels, I passed one that had my entire face superimposed on the screen. What in the shit is going on?