Epic Lies (Epic Fail Book 2)

by Trudy Stiles

  By the time Mia comes back, my duffle bag is all ready for my escape. It was supposed to be for Dax’s place, but now it’s been repurposed, and I packed pants.

  “Where are you going?” she asks, concern on her face.

  “To clear my head–I’m going to the beach,” I say, swiping my keys from the counter.

  “You’re running away is what you’re doing,” she scolds, her tone judging.

  “Running away from what? There’s nothing to run away from.”

  She shakes her head. “Enjoy the weekend. Clear your head. Come back and fix everything,” she says, squeezing me tight. “I love you, and I know he does, too.”

  He loves me?

  “I’m good. Practically over it already,” I lie.

  She follows me out to my car and helps me put my things into the back.

  “Be careful. Call me if you want some company tomorrow night,” she says.

  “I will.”

  I slide into my car and open the sunroof.

  And I laugh.

  Because at this point, it’s better than crying.

  No one deserves to own my tears anymore.

  Dax

  Present

  “FUCK!” I YELL as I slam my fists into my steering wheel. My chest is tight, and I’m gasping for air. Sweat beads on my temples, my scalp tingles.

  Seeing Natalia in that tabloid has completely shaken me to the core, especially since she’s pictured with a child who looks to be about three years old.

  A child who could be mine.

  Sonya found out the hotel Natalia is staying at in the city, and I can’t get there fast enough.

  Why is she back now? Where has she been over the past few years?

  I’ve been trying to get in touch with Giselle since our last conversation, but her phone is going straight to voicemail. I completely understand why she’s avoiding me, but I need to apologize. My fucked-up life is destroying hers. This is all my fault, and I need her to hear it from me. I’ll do anything to make all of this madness go away.

  My phone rings through Bluetooth, and I see Alex’s name pop up on my dashboard.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “What’s going on?” he says, concern in his voice.

  “What isn’t going on,” I respond, clenching my teeth.

  “Dude, Natalia? A kid?” He obviously saw the rag magazine.

  I suck in a breath. “I’m on my way to find out now.”

  “Good. Get to the bottom of this. I don’t trust her,” Alex says, echoing my own thoughts since I saw her and the boy in the tabloid.

  “Stay calm. Call Doug.” Doug’s our lawyer, and he was the first person I called when I left Garrett’s house.

  “Already did.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That I need to immediately demand a paternity test and give her his business card.” He also told me that I shouldn’t see her in person, a request that I’m clearly violating.

  “That’s cold,” Alex says. “What if the kid’s yours?”

  “Fuck, man. I don’t know. I can’t think straight right now.” My hands wrap around the steering wheel tighter, and my fingertips start to go numb.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Have you thought about your options?” he asks, and I practically choke.

  “Options? Like what?” I yell. “If the kid’s mine, do you think I’m going to ask that crazy bitch to marry me?”

  He laughs, “No! Oh my God. Did you think…?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” I respond. The picture in the tabloid wasn’t very clear, but from what I saw, the kid resembled Natalia. He has her olive skin tone and dark hair. He was grasping her hand tightly, while looking lovingly at his mother. I tried to pinpoint other features that would make him an Anderson, but I couldn’t find any.

  “I don’t care whose kid he is, Dax. If you ask Natalia to marry you, I’m going to have you committed.”

  “I can’t talk about this anymore.” I veer off the highway toward the hotel near the airport. “I’ll get to the bottom of it, one way or another.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Alex says.

  “When have I ever done anything stupid?” I cringe at the thought of him regurgitating my history.

  “You should never have gotten involved with her in the first place,” he says, and I want to spit.

  “You think?” I respond tightly. He’s certainly not making this easy; in fact, he’s beginning to piss me off. “I don’t need a lecture, asshole.”

  “I’m not trying to be a prick, but she was trouble from the beginning. Look what happened with Garrett.” I don’t need him to remind me of her history with our friend and fellow brother.

  “It’s not like I can change the past, Alex. You’re right, I should never have fucked her. Okay?” My anger reaches a boiling point.

  “You did more than fuck her. You fell in love with her,” he says.

  “It wasn’t love,” I retort. I’ve finally found love again, and what I had with Natalia was nothing like what I have with Giselle.

  My anxiety grips me as I realize that I need to see Giselle immediately. But first, I’m going to confront Natalia, once and for all.

  “Be careful. Don’t let her get the upper hand, okay?” he says, concern filling his voice.

  “I can handle her–I just need to see for myself. As soon as I look into her eyes, I’ll know.”

  “Don’t let her try to take advantage of you. Stay alert.”

  “I will,” I say, and he hangs up.

  I inhale, trying to calm myself, but nothing’s working. My sweaty palms slide from the steering wheel as I pull into the driveway leading to the hotel entrance.

  I’ll fucking stay alert. I already know how manipulating Natalia can be.

  The valet raises his hand as I pull up to the hotel. “Keep the car here, I’ll only be a few minutes,” I say.

  He nods as he hands me the claim ticket. “Your car will be right over there.” He gestures toward the end of the driveway.

  “Thanks.” I jog toward the front desk in the lobby.

  “Can I help you, Sir?” the girl behind the counter asks.

  “Natalia LeFuer is expecting me. Can you call her room and let her know I’m on my way up?”

  “Sure, who shall I say is here?” she asks.

  “Dax Anderson.”

  Her eyes widen as she dials the phone. “Ms. LeFuer, Mr. Anderson is here to see you.”

  She nods and hangs up the phone. “She’s on the Concierge Level, Room Fourteen Twenty-Two.”

  “Thanks,” I say and walk toward the elevators.

  I press the button for her floor and inhale deeply, running my hand through my hair, trying to keep my nerves at bay.

  What is she going to tell me?

  Is this kid mine?

  My chest clenches as the elevator doors open, and I hesitate. I don’t think I want to know the answer. As the doors close, I jump through and see that her room is directly across from the elevator. Before I can change my mind, her door flies open as if she was looking through the peep-hole, waiting for me.

  Fuck.

  “Dax,” she says, and my heart stops.

  Her familiar, hypnotic voice floats through the air. Memories flood my brain, and my knees feel weak.

  “We need to talk.”

  Giselle

  Present

  THE SOUND OF WAVES crashing on the beach is supposed to relax me, but it’s doing anything but. My head pounds with each passing wave. The three Advil I’ve taken haven’t alleviated it in any way. My nerves are shot. My heart is a broken mess. I plan to spend the next five days here at the beach, hiding from my life. Hiding from the paparazzi. Hiding from Dax. Despite what I told Mia, I have indeed run away–escaping from my awkward reality.

  I’m in love with a rock star.

  And to top it off, he has a love child with a fucking supe
rmodel. A child he literally just found out about–that the world just found out about.

  Pain shoots across my chest, and I massage the tightness in my sternum as I inhale the salty sea air. “Why is this happening?” I say out loud into the ocean breeze. There isn’t anyone else within sight, and I’m thankful to have this stretch of beach to myself. The moon is still low in the sky, reflecting brightly off of the ocean. I’ve been out here since the sun set, and I’m comforted by the darkness surrounding me. I’m anonymous here, nobody knows me. But, I’m sure everyone knows who Dax Anderson is.

  I massage my chest harder, trying to work out the knot that has formed. It’s been tight since I hung up with my mother. She called me while I was driving here, because she didn’t exactly believe my cheerful sounding texts earlier today. I’ve never been able to successfully lie to her about anything–so I told her everything. Every uncomfortable detail about Dax and me. Even about the tabloid picture of us in Mexico. I was mortified throughout our entire conversation, embarrassed to admit my lack of judgment about many things, including my poor choice of outdoor sex. She was quiet while she listened to me tell her about Dax’s connection to me, and to Lara. I cried when I spoke about my cousin, guilt bubbling up again. I’ve felt her loss so much more over the past few weeks, but Dax and I have worked through so much of it together. We’ve shared beautiful memories while reliving some of the sadness that we experienced so many years ago.

  Now a huge curveball has been thrown our way, and I feel like a complete failure. My mother, once she was over the complete surprise of the situation, offered me some advice: stay true to myself, and everything will work itself out.

  What the hell does that even mean?

  I know she meant well, but I think I’ve always been true to myself. I’ve always been the one to see the forest through the trees, glass half-full. Until now.

  How can I possibly remain true to myself when there’s a naked picture of me, underneath one of the biggest rock stars in the world, on every newsstand between here and London? How can I be true to myself when a woman has come forward, claiming to have a child with him? I can’t take it anymore. I just want to scream. My mother means well, but it’s not exactly the best advice at the moment.

  Before we hung up, she told me she was going to break the news to my father about the tabloid. I’m expecting my phone to ring any moment, with his booming voice on the other end.

  As if I just willed it to happen, my phone rings in my hand. Dammit.

  I look down, expecting to see my father’s number, but it’s Mia.

  A sigh of relief escapes my lips before I answer, “Hey.”

  “Just checking in. Everything okay?” she asks, concern in her voice.

  “I told my mother everything,” I blurt out.

  “Oh boy. I don’t think you need to tell me how that went.”

  “Actually, not as bad as I expected. But my dad doesn’t know yet, so I’m waiting for him to call me yelling and screaming.”

  “Your mom will take care of him. What did she say?”

  I huff. “She told me to stay true to myself, and everything will work itself out.”

  “Vague,” she laughs.

  “I guess.”

  “If there’s one thing you can take away from all of this, it is that your mom’s pretty freaking amazing. I mean, her daughter is banging a rock star on the cover of a tabloid magazine, and she kept her cool!” I cringe as I imagine my mother reading that article and looking at that picture.

  “That’s disgusting. Don’t put it like that, Mia.”

  “Seriously. You have no idea how lucky you are to have such supportive parents.”

  “Like I said, my dad hasn’t heard about this yet,” I remind her, and my chest tightens again.

  “It will all be fine. I promise,” she says, and I wonder how she can even make that promise to me.

  “Whatever. I just want to forget about everything for a few days.”

  “Are you going to work on Monday?” she asks.

  “Hell. No. I emailed my boss tonight after I got down here and told her that I’m taking a few days off next week. She’s totally cool and even told me to take off the whole week, if I need it. I may take her up on that.” Marilyn is definitely very understanding. She’s very family-oriented and super flexible. She even suggested I work remotely for a few days, if I don’t want to take the whole week off. I’m super lucky to work in such a great environment. At least I have that going for me.

  “Good for you,” she says. “You should totally take her up on that offer. Maybe I’ll play hooky next week and come join you for a few days.”

  I love Mia–like love her like a sister, but I need space from everything, including her. I just don’t know how to tell her ‘no.’

  She picks up on my silent cues and says, “Just kidding. I know you need your time alone. I promise I won’t surprise you.”

  “It’s okay, Mia. Really. In a few days, I’m sure I’ll be looking for something to do to keep my mind off of things.” I’m not entirely sincere in my offer, but I say it anyway.

  “I’ll let you know,” she says.

  We’re quiet for a few seconds before she speaks up again. “Have you spoken to Dax again?”

  Another pain grips my chest. “No.”

  “Are you planning on it?”

  “Honestly, Mia, I don’t know what else to say to him. He’s obviously got some things he needs to work out before he brings me back into the picture.” If there even is a picture.

  “So, you’re willing to try?” she asks, surprised.

  “I don’t know what I’m willing to do. I just can’t seem to get the vision of that little boy out of my head. He has a kid, Mia. A. Kid. His life just changed forever, and I’m sure I’m the last person he’s thinking about right now.”

  “Things are going to work out. I’m certain of it.”

  Her optimism isn’t contagious, and I frown. “Listen, I don’t blame him for any of this. That woman kept him in the dark for years, but now he has to deal with it.”

  “Don’t you think you should be around to help him?” she says, her voice accusing.

  “How can I possibly help?”

  “Moral support. Show him you care. Running off and hiding is doing the exact opposite. He needs you, Giselle.”

  Guilt begins to overwhelm me. She’s right, in her own twisted way. I admit that he has no control over what Natalia has done and the revelation she’s brought forth, but how can I help without getting in the way? Without confusing the situation even more?

  “I think it’s best if I lay low. He doesn’t need any more of a media circus than he already has. Maybe when things quiet down…”

  “Do what you need to do,” she says sternly. “But, running away isn’t helping either of you.”

  Suddenly, I feel the urge to apologize to her. To Dax.

  “I’m sorry, Mia. You probably think I’m being selfish or childish–”

  “Yes!” She cuts me off.

  “Let me finish, will you?”

  “Fine,” she says.

  “I need to clear my head and try to make sense of all of this craziness. I also need to decide if I even want to try to fit into his new, complicated life. I need to decide if continuing to pursue a future with him is something I can handle.”

  “You can handle anything, Giselle. You always have. And you always will.”

  I smile and recline my beach chair. The moon is higher in the sky, and the stars are out in full-force. “Thanks for the pep-talk, Mia.”

  “Also, remember what you both were able to get past while you were in Mexico. He’s Lara’s high school boyfriend, for God’s sake. And you were able to move on and grow closer. Go figure.”

  Why does she have to make so much sense?

  “You have a point.”

  “Say the word, and I’ll be there with a couple bottles of pinot and my charming self.”

  I giggle and say, “You’re amazing, and I love you
.”

  “I love you, too. Call me if you need anything. And call Dax to let him know you’re okay.” She hangs up before I can respond.

  She’s right on so many levels. But, I still need to figure out what place I could possibly hold in Dax’s heart now that he has a son. And what if Natalia showing up rekindles an old flame that he once held for her. She’s incredibly gorgeous, and bringing a child into the picture could make him forget about me altogether.

  I inhale deeply and stare at the constellations. So many wishes have been made upon these stars that I’m afraid mine will be ignored.

  How can I even wish that a child and his mother disappear so I can finally have my chance at love?

  THE HOT SUN BURNS into my skin as I gasp for air, my feet pounding onto the boards below. I glance at my wrist and see I’ve run ten miles. This is my last long run before the half-marathon next weekend, and for the first time in months, I actually feel ready for the grueling race ahead of me. I stop on the boardwalk and bend over, placing my palms above my knees, sucking in as much air as my lungs will allow. Sweat drips down my face, soaking my chest and my tank top. My legs feel surprisingly strong, when they’re usually like jelly after a long run. I see my chair on the beach with the cooler filled with ice-cold water sitting next to it, and I jog toward it. I open one and chug the contents quickly while I hold another to my forehead. It’s freezing cold and sends shivers down my spine. Goosebumps quickly appear, and my arms tingle. It feels so good.

  My father texted me this morning to tell me that the heat index was going to be close to 100 today. He’s been tracking my training progress and knows when my long runs are scheduled. He also knows that I’m at the beach, where it’s even hotter than at home. He didn’t mention a thing about Dax and the tabloids, and I wonder if he knows yet. My mother told me she would tell him soon, but didn’t specify when. I have to put my dad out of my mind for now, so I open another bottle of water, chugging it as quickly as I did the first.

  After about fifteen minutes of cool-down and stretches, I take off my sneakers and let my bare feet sink into the hot sand. Should I go up to the house to change? I cover my eyes and see the house in the distance and quickly decide that I just want to sit and relax for a little while before I make the trek. I remove my sweaty tank top so I’m only wearing my bright pink jog bra and shorts. It’s not obscene in any way, and if someone saw me, they would think I was wearing a sporty bikini. A very sweaty one, but I’m still decently covered.