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Beautiful Lies

Page 18

by Gina Whitney


  I pulled out my old-fashioned address book. It was really a simple mini spiral notebook that I kept random scrawls in. It was a garbled mess of shopping lists and ideas, but buried in the middle was Tamara’s number, which I had also failed to memorize. I took a spot in the corner of the store by the window. I figured the miniscule amount of sunlight peeking through the dank sky would be enough of an antidote to my dreariness.

  As the phone rang, I forced a smile to appear on my face. I didn’t want Tamara to hear the sadness in my voice.

  “Hello,” she answered with her usual bubbly demeanor. Thank goodness because I needed it.

  “It’s me—Lilly.” Whatever cheer I had was quickly leaving me.

  “I hear a somber timber in your voice.”

  “I’m having a terrible day.”

  “What? Something happen between you and your fuck buddy? That dude with the chocolate eyes,” Tamara joked.

  “His name is Cam, and he wasn’t a fuck buddy. Not that it matters. We’re done anyway. That’s why I’m calling you. I need a pep talk.”

  Tamara’s voice thickened with severity. I could tell she wanted to give me an “I told you so.” However, she opted to be a considerate friend instead.

  “So you want to talk? That’s what I’m here for.” Her voice was so soothing, motherly. It made me feel like cradling in the nook behind me.

  “It turns out Cam has a girlfriend. I went to his place, and she answered the door wearing his clothes,” I confessed.

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. He told me that she was nothing, just a fling. But she confirmed that they had been dating for at least a year.”

  A hand-holding couple passed by. They made me want to puke. Why did they get to be so happy while I had to remain cursed when it came to love?

  Tamara interjected some reason into my pity party. “The way I see it is that you really didn’t lose anything. You knew Cam for all of a minute, and, from what I can tell, you two spent the bulk of your time in bed.”

  “It wasn’t all about sex. We cared for one another. At least I did,” I snapped.

  “Look, I’m not saying that Sig is the best boyfriend in the world. But out of the two guys, he was the only one who made a commitment. I don’t condone marrying for money, but you have been with Sig for a mighty long time. He was the more viable option.”

  Tamara only said that because I never let her know what Sig was really about. She just saw him as an emotionless asshole. To her, that might have been irritating but harmless. I never told her about the slaps, bites, threats, or Xander. I was always trying to save face and not look like a total idiot for putting up with his bullshit.

  “And let’s be real. You were sneaking around. You’re the cheater. And you have the nerve to get made at Cam for doing the same thing to you,” Tamara said with an ironic laugh. “So take off your nasty freak panties and put on your matrimonial ones. Those won’t be as sexy, but they will be secure.”

  I burst into riotous laughter as the store’s patrons wondered what the fuck was wrong with me. My mood was immediately elevated, and I felt like I could cope with the breakup. “Thanks, Tam. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Yeah, I know. I am the best. But I’ve really got to go. Hugs and kisses.”

  “Hugs and kisses.”

  Tamara and I gave each other a “mwah” and hung up. I looked down at the phone. Even though I had deleted Cam’s messages, I made sure to keep his number. I’m not exactly sure why. It wasn’t like I’d need it or anything.

  I was kidding myself again. My alter ego forced me to keep the number just in case I wanted to call Cam back. I would have spoken to him even if he had lingering traces of Becky on his breath. God only knows what they were doing.

  Fuck. I am so pathetic.

  Chapter Nineteen

  My portion of Sig’s case had wrapped up. On the surface, his financials appeared to be scrupulous. That was because of me. When it came to hiding assets or making strange expenses seem legitimate, I was a god. However, Wotherspoon and Associates still did not let me know who Z was. All I knew was that Z settled and was not going forward with a public lawsuit.

  Whooptee-fucking-do.

  I didn’t care anyway. I was just glad that I didn’t have to see Sig or Lilly ever again. Hell, even that fucking partnership no longer had any appeal. I don’t know when I lost my passion for it. Probably when I lost Lilly.

  It had been a few weeks since I had last seen her. Some days it felt like none of it had ever happened. Just a beautiful blur in my life. However, sometimes I wondered how she was doing. I would occasionally pass the meeting room when Sig came by, eavesdropping and hoping to find out what was happening in Lilly’s world.

  One time at the grocery store, I saw a local bridal magazine featuring an interview with her. I was flabbergasted by the speed in which the details of their engagement were already in print. Needless to say I didn’t buy the magazine. I bought some more Jack Daniels and fucked Becky instead. Jack helped me bury my feelings for Lilly. Becky helped me bury my dick.

  If I had been paying more attention and not waddling in self-pity, I would have noticed that I was being gunned for. Sig had seen me looking dejected despite my strong efforts to look GQ. I was certain he knew about Lilly and me. Therefore, I surmised he knew that my lackluster mood was caused by her absence.

  Behind my back Sig had rallied not only Xander and Chief Pepperdine but Jacob. He told them that he knew about men like me. Men like me did not give up when it came to love. Sig was certain that I would come after Lilly, especially now that I had completed my part of the case. He had placed a briefcase on the table in front of those men. It was filled with neatly bound stacks of money, which he offered in exchange for participating in my murder.

  Greed got the best of Chief Pepperdine and Jacob, and they eagerly agreed to the terms. Xander did not care much about the money. He was in it just for the joy of killing me.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cam, just fucking forget about Lilly. What is so fucking hard about that?

  I had taken a leave of absence from Wotherspoon and Associates just so I could mope in a pitch-black room. Though it was past midnight, I had no need to turn on any lights. The silent darkness gave me just enough solace to prevent me from losing my fucking mind completely. Any amount of luminance would have shed light on the derelict condition I was in. There was no way I could face that. The best I could do was to stand at the window and swig down the rest of the Macallen whiskey— a change from my regular Jack. After my last gulp, I held the bottle upside down, hoping to discover one more drop. As I tapped the bottle, I noticed a strange black car creeping past my building.

  A car driving on a New York street normally would not have seemed odd. However, this vehicle made the hairs on the back of my neck stand as stiff as surgical needles. Whoever was driving could not see me as the darkness concealed my silhouette. They felt safe in maintaining a snail’s pace that any elderly woman could outrun.

  I kept my eye on the car until it rounded the corner, and the red haze of its brake lights faded away. A weird twinge cramped my belly as I turned from the window. I guess that’s why I had to go back and do a double take. Indeed, the car was gone from my line of sight. Still, that ominous feeling remained. I headed toward my bed, not even realizing that I had picked up my trusty Louisville slugger.

  That lapse in thought had become common with me since my apparent breakup—or whatever the fuck you call it—with Lilly. I was numb, disconnected not only from my mind but my body. I dropped down onto the dirty sex sheets that I had been fucking Becky on. I didn’t care about the hygiene; I didn’t care about anything anymore.

  I had lost all shame with Becky and treated her worse than diarrhea coming out of a donkey’s ass. To rid myself of my own pain, I gave it to her instead in the form of some pretty fucked-up sex. I did all manner of foul shit to her; I degraded her in every way I could think of. I must have been on the verge of going total
ly psycho because that was the only semblance of being alive I had left.

  That’s what Lilly did to me. That bitch.

  Once again I tilted the empty bottle of whiskey right over my mouth. There was nothing left, but that didn’t stop me from licking the opening for any remnants. When none were found, I threw the bottle against the wall, leaving a nice hole for me to fix later. Instead of jonesing for liquor I was not going to get, I settled for the white noise of mindless television.

  I had no real interest in watching the cheesy ’70s action movie. The purpose of the disjointed racket was really to give me the illusion that I wasn’t alone. Exhausted from grief, I lay on my back while my bleary eyes stared at the ceiling. I imagined Lilly’s spectral image hovering above me, smiling seductively and teasing me to take her. I reached out and grasped nothing but air—a stark reminder of the empty relationship we’d shared.

  If I were a praying man, I would have begged God to intervene and take away the pain-filled crevasse that was my heart. I opted to close my eyes instead and let sleep give me a brief respite from the crushing torment.

  Later that night a startling, sharp noise woke me. I propped up on my elbows and looked at the TV. A bottle blonde was shooting the equivalent of a pop gun at some ridiculous caricature of a criminal mastermind. With the massive number of wings in her hair, the actress could have just flown away. The thought of it made me laugh for the first time in weeks, and I turned down the volume.

  Then I heard another noise like something falling outside my front door. I picked up my bat and cautiously made my way toward the ruckus. I opened the door slowly. The hallway was slightly illuminated by a small window at the other end. I was determined to inspect my property and stepped into the hall. As I made my way to the elevator, I kept turning in a circle in an attempt to protect myself from all sides.

  I heard the ding of the elevator. The car was coming up, which meant someone was in my building. I took up post on the side of the elevator and waited for the dumb-ass intruder to come out. The number above the elevator went from one to two, and then the doors opened. I bum rushed the car, swinging with all my might. But the elevator was empty. Because I was not paranoid by nature, I assumed that there had been a mechanical glitch and decided to have it checked out the next day.

  Confident, I strode back to my apartment and locked the door. It took my mind a few seconds to register what happened next. When it did, I realized that I was being choked to death from behind. I tried to hold on to my bat, but my desire to fight for breath won out, and I dropped it. My hands furiously grabbed at my assailant, to no avail. Whoever it was, he was a towering mass of dense muscle. He stood steady behind me, rigid and strong, as if my tussling did not faze him at all.

  I was rapidly losing consciousness, but somehow Lilly popped into my head. For some reason this gave me the resolve to continue battling for my life. I elbowed the asshole in his ribs, mentally disarming him just long enough for me to slip out of his grip. I swung around and pushed him back into the darkness. All I could see was a giant shadow facing me. His heaving breath was filling the room with heat.

  “What? Scared to show your face, motherfucker?” I asked with indignation.

  Xander emerged from the blackness. I was not surprised to see him. I knew that he would be coming for me one day. He was enjoying the fulfillment of my execution and wanted to savor every moment of it. He watched me for a bit like someone looking at a juicy steak behind the butcher counter. His fissured tongue licked his lips as a gleefully fiendish smile appeared. I could not believe this sick fucker was actually getting off on killing me.

  But I was not an easy piece of game. I was a predator too. And it was obvious that between the two of us, someone was going to die. Xander had a physical advantage over me. I had to use whatever tools I had available. He was all brawn and no brain; I would start there.

  “I know why you’re here. It’s because of Sig. He knows about Lilly and me. Despite that motherfucking engagement, I could come get her if I wanted her. That drives him crazy. That’s where you come in,” I said to Xander, who was watching me, apparently hypnotized by my words. “Sig couldn’t do his own dirty work. So he sent a stupid, dumb, mute sucker like you to do it for him. Tell me, what’s it like to be Sig’s stank pussy boy?”

  That did it. No man, no matter how stunted, wants to be called a stinky cunt.

  Xander’s grin dissolved from his face, and he was on me in one second flat. He threw me to the ground. That asshole pushed my temples together like my head was a grape as he beat it against the floor. I could almost hear my skull cracking. I pounded the shit out of him the best I could. Even though I had been an athlete and worked out regularly, Xander was a crazed behemoth of rage. He was much bigger than me, and I found it nearly impossible to fight him off.

  When Xander saw that I was about to pass out, he pulled his gun from his waistband. He opened and spun the cylinder. There were three bullets randomly placed in the chamber. Xander popped the cylinder back and put the muzzle to my forehead. I closed my eyes right before he squeezed the trigger. Apparently, that chamber was empty. Xander looked disappointed and promptly squeezed the trigger again. The next cylinder was empty also. I got no relief from that, realizing my luck was running out. But before Xander squeezed again, I somehow managed to swiftly push the gun toward the bed as he was taking his shot. The bullet hit the down pillow and caused a shower of feathers to rain above the bed. Xander positioned the gun to my head again. I knew I was a goner, but the funny thing about it was that I had no fear. I had lost Lilly, and nothing else seemed to matter to me.

  That was until a heard a voice reminiscent of Lilly’s. It told me that my life was not over yet and to do whatever it took to survive this. It instructed me to fuck with Xander’s head one more time. The voice made no sense to me; I thought I was imagining it. But I was compelled to listen to it anyway. Besides, what did I have to lose except my life? In a supine position, there was no way I could get that beast off me. So I went about fucking with his remedial brain.

  “You’re not a real man? You can’t fight with your own hands? You need a gun to make you feel tough? You had to come after me in the dark…a sneak attack. Figures. You were a punk then, and you’re a fucking punk now. You wouldn’t dare fight me mano a mano because you know that it would be nothing for me to beat your weak ass,” I said, trying to goad Xander into a fist fight. It worked.

  He put the gun down and let me stand up—more like wobble—on my feet. I blinked quickly to allow my blurred vision to return and saw him pushing up his sleeves. I was not about to give him the chance to jump me again and charged him immediately, making sure I got some kind of advantage. My surge sent Xander crashing into the wall. His burly body knocked down all my football and track trophies. He just laughed and stared at me with those vacant eyes then punched me dead in the face. Whiplash rocked my neck, and I fell backward. Xander came after me with full force, but I kicked him right in his balls when he got close enough. I hopped up and kneed him in the stomach. As he was doubled over, I pounded him on the back of his neck, and he dropped to the floor. I started toward my bat, but Xander reached out, grabbed my ankle, and tripped me. He dragged me back over to him. I went ape shit and waylaid the hell out of him.

  Suddenly Xander threw me off and jumped up like gravity did not exist. I got up nearly as fast. We ran toward each other for the final conflict and dragged each other through that apartment like a tornado. Eventually Xander got the upper hand and subdued me from behind. He opened my mouth with both his hands and tried to rip my face apart. I could feel my jaw unhinging as he pulled my upper and lower teeth in two directions simultaneously.

  Then I did what I never thought I would ever do in my life to another man. I grabbed Xander’s dick and balls. As my fingers pulled downward, I dug them into Xander’s flesh. I was trying to rip off his junk. I knew I had almost succeeded when I felt my fingertips touching from both sides of his dick like it was Silly Putty and the slippe
riness of his blood spurting out. One more squeeze and his shit would have fallen to the floor. However, the gruesomeness of it all stopped me from completing the task. Xander looked at me then down at his bloody pants like he was in shock. I didn’t hesitate and grabbed my bat. I split his concrete head open, causing blood to gush out like a spigot.

  Like a human battering ram, I ran Xander all the way across the room, using the velocity to send him crashing out the window. He landed on the roof of that mysterious car, causing it to buckle deep into the passenger side of the interior.

  The driver jumped out; it was Chief Pepperdine. He looked up at me then called for his lookout. A young man raced across the street. I recognized that boy from the gala. Jacob. Both men pulled an unconscious Xander from the roof and threw him into the car. Before Pepperdine got in, he gave me a sinister look. I knew they would be back, and there would be no mistakes next time. The assailants peeled out and drove away.

  My first instinct was to call the cops. But, shit, how could I know who to trust? Any cop that came over could be an assassin. One thing was sure: I had to get out of my apartment.

  As I threw random clothes into a suitcase, I played the surveillance footage from my security camera. I rewound too far back and saw an image of Lilly knocking on my door. I didn’t remember seeing her on that particular day and watched more closely. As the video played, I saw Becky answer the door.

  Aw, fuck! Lilly was here, and Becky didn’t tell me.

  As I watched Lilly walk to the elevator, I wondered how she could look so sad and radiantly beautiful at the same time. More important was that I realized she had not gotten over me. She wanted to reconcile but was intercepted by Becky. I had to get to her not only because she looked like she was not giving up on us. But because I had survived, she was probably in danger now.

 

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