Lost In Lies

by Xavier Neal

  Excited, Peter leans forward, “I’ll bite. Where is it?”

  “Hiding in plain sight,” I smile, giving Justin a glance. “The bottle sits out in the open, easy for me to reach. All we have to do is slip the map in, I’ll spray it, and we can escape, no fuss, no mess, while the Dark Watchers are still trying to steal the decoy.”

  “Wait. Wait. Wait. You want me to leave you with my map? Oh no. No. Hell no,” Peter shakes his head as he gets up to retrieve the plastic cup. “Just steal the bottle.”

  “Can’t,” I respond quickly. “He would notice it missing. And that would create even more of an alarm. Plus, Nick watches that thing like he might know its real worth. Says it was a gift from Arnett when he was just a boy. There’s not much left in the bottle either.”

  “That’s ingenious, really,” Justin lets the thought leak out. “What better way to hide its value than to give it to a child?”

  “Exactly.” I turn back to Peter, “Our best bet is to slip a sleeping pill into Nick’s drink. Let me spray the map, sneak out the window, and get out of this town. I can’t help but feel like the walls are closing in.”

  “Maybe that’s because they are,” Aiden says slowly. All our eyes shoot over to him, “We have a problem.”

  “Please tell me you can learn a new phrase,” Peter sighs, his favorite accessory lifted back up to his lips.

  “That phone call you had me trace.”

  “Arnett’s.”

  “Linked to the Mathews account. Pulled up the phone records, and a few of them were from an untraceable number.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Justin shrugs.

  “That’s not why we’re in trouble,” Aiden looks up. “Turns out, every call he made in the last couple of days was at the same time your father was on a call to an untraceable number. Same amount of time. Arnett’s the one your father’s been calling, and he’s the one who told your father you’re here.”

  A feeling in the pit of my stomach sinks, “But how? I mean how ... how do they know each other?”

  “I thought about that as I was digging into your father’s past like Justin suggested when I realized something.” Aiden hits a button on his computer screen twice, and a photo enlarges itself. “Found this while looking through the surveillance footage.”

  Our attention turns to a photo with a younger-looking Arnett and my father shaking hands. My eyes go straight to the pins, which are letter Ps linked with letter Ss, not wanting to bring it to the group’s attention in case it’s another secret they’ll go out of their way not to tell me.

  “Looks like Arnett and your father are very good friends,” Peter clears his throat in an annoyed fashion.

  “We need to get out of town,” Belle speaks up.

  “He lands tonight at midnight.” Aiden says slowly.

  In unison, we croak, “What?!”

  “There were a couple of seats canceled on the last flight. He was on the wait list. He lands at midnight. Airport is approximately 17 minutes away from Nick’s apartment.”

  “Our ship won’t be ready until the funds are in the account.” Eiden tosses in.

  “And when’s that?” Peter mumbles.

  “Around midnight.”

  “Damn it!” he pounds his fist.

  “Look,” Justin clears his throat. “This is what we do. Belle, make a date with Dubs, a late-night date that you’re going to stand him up for. Aiden, move some money around in Arnett’s account, and call him like you are the bank informing him of fraud. This way, both things that could tie up Nick’s attention are occupied. Eiden, go and babysit that ship. The minute it’s done we need to be on it. Peter and I’ll make sure all bags are packed and loaded. Peyton, you take the map, go over there, slip a pill into Nick’s drink, spray the map, make sure it shows up, leave him a note on his pillow telling him you slipped out and will see him in the morning. You fly back here immediately, not a minute after 12:05. Got it?”

  “What about the Dark Watchers?” The question seems valid coming from me. “Lola’s been on my ass.”

  “And tonight will be no different. We’re gonna get ambushed. Let them take a decoy map away that has all the lines on it they need. That way, they’ll be occupied as well tonight. There should be no reason for anything to go wrong.”

  “We leave this apartment at 12:12. No excuses. Peyton will fly back here, grab her bag, and walk out the front door. I’ll escort you to the ship.” Justin turns back to Peter. “This is the best we’ve got. Let’s make it happen.”

  Peter nods slowly before turning to us, “You heard him. Get to work.”

  Everyone disperses, which is when Justin grabs my arm and looks me in my eyes, “We need to talk.”

  I nod and follow Justin up the stairs to our bedroom, where he closes the door very quietly, turns on the radio so that our conversation will be masked, and looks at me with a very concerned look on his face.

  Uncomfortable, I rub my arm, “What’s up?” His eyes never leave mine, judging me, taking surveys of my posture, my stance, my breathing. “What?”

  His shoulders slump, “You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”

  “What?” my voice squeaks. “Why would you—why would you—why would you—how could you, I mean, really?”

  “Peyton,” he sits on the edge of the bed with a defeated look, “be honest with me. You’ve got feelings for him, don’t you?”

  Swallowing nervously, I sigh, “A few.” Quickly, I spew, “I mean, what do you want from me? He’s sweet, and he’s funny, and we have things in common, and if I were a normal girl with a normal life, he would be a walking dream come true—the same way you were.” Those words grab his attention, “But you weren’t real.”

  “No, Peyton, I was real. The situation we were in was under false pretenses, but all that I showed you was me. Those were my likes and dislikes. A few details were smudged. You fell for me, and now you’re falling for him.”

  “I’m not falling for him,” I chuckle and shake my head. “Because, if I was, I would’ve told him the truth last night when I had the chance. But I didn’t.” After a pause, I clear my throat, “It’s a lot to run this sort of con, and separating my feelings from those that I’m pretending can get, well…”

  “Blurry. I know. I just need to know which side of the blur you’re on, ours or his.”

  “You know what,” I start off slightly irritated. “I have shown the utmost loyalty to this team even between the lies that I’ve been told and the information that’s been withheld. Why? I’m not completely sure if it’s curiosity or self-punishment, but either way, I’m in this for the long haul because of you! Because I fell in love with you!”

  Justin stands up, strolls over to me, places one hand in my hair and the other on my back, and kisses me more passionately than the first time, except this time, I know every push of the tongue isn’t holding any lies.

  A few hours later, I’m packing up our bags, Belle is wiping down things to leave no fingerprints, straightening sheets to give the appearance that maybe we were never here, while Aiden is deleting video footage that has caught us as well as setting up a program to automatically delete all information of us after midnight. Dragging my bag down the stairs, I see Justin using a charcoal pencil, my favorite, my specialty, to sketch a map to occupy the Dark Watchers’ time. While they are easily fooled, they aren’t as easy as we need them to be sometimes.

  “Need some help?” I ask, plopping my bag down in front of the balcony opening.

  “That would be nice.” Justin makes eye contact with Belle before looking back at me. “But you can’t.”

  I nod, glance at the drawing, and sigh deeply, desperate to take up a new hobby to relieve the stress. Seeing the look of distress on my face, Belle pipes up, “There’s always crocheting.”

  “Pass,” I stick my tongue out as Peter walks through the front door, cup in hand.

  Looking nervous, his eyes scan the room before he asks, “Everything OK?”

  “Yeah,”
Belle walks over to him, lifts herself up onto her tiptoes, causing her short, pink leather skirt to look even shorter, and places a kiss on his cheek. “Relax, Peter. We’re going to make it out of this on top.” He nods, and she strokes his cheek as her wings flutter. For a moment, I could almost mistake them for having the same moment Justin and I had earlier.

  “Working hard or hardly working?” Peter’s jerk demeanor returns as he struts over to Justin, who has a few photographs of old maps laid out.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Justin’s response causes Peter to smirk as he continues the lines on the map.

  Checking the time on my cell phone, I smile, “It’s show time.”

  “Good luck,” Belle hums out, giving me a wave.

  “She needs it,” Peter mumbles, looking up as he slides yet another lollipop into his mouth.

  With a nod, I agree with Peter on this one, but put my head up high, and stroll out of the apartment headed straight for Nick’s fencing match, which I promised to attend today.

  A few minutes later, I’m exiting a taxi outside of a very large building where the tournament is. With a smile, I approach the door where I am asked for my name or a ticket.

  “Peyton,” I adjust my larger-than-normal-size purse, while I case the place for familiar faces. The door buzzer is hit, and I’m allowed to enter along with a few select others.

  As I stroll to my seat, I look for anyone who sticks out; however, I get distracted by the signs with Nick’s name plastered everywhere, the crowd excited to see him compete. Proud, I walk down the stairs to what has to be the best seats in the whole place. To no surprise, it’s marked reserved and next to Dubs, who is sitting one seat away from Arnett, the Lion’s Den.

  “Peyton,” Dubs greets me warmly.

  “Peyton,” Arnett grumbles as he folds his hands and leans back as if hoping I wasn’t invited.

  “Boys,” I greet them politely in return and settle between them with my purse between my feet and my phone in my pocket. Looking around at the guys moving around, I ask, “Where’s Nick?”

  “Here,” he leans over my shoulder, his hot breath on my ear, his soft word striking my heart. I turn around to greet him when his lips fall on mine, and he pushes my hair behind my ear. After a brief moment, he pulls away, “I missed you. I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” the words may be cheap but seem like a perfect fit.

  “Good,” he nods, my eyes glancing over his pale gray suit.

  “Ready for an easy victory?” He chuckles at my cheerleading.

  “We may pass violets looking for roses. We may pass contentment looking for victory,” the quote rumbles off his tongue. “But as far as I’m concerned, I’m content you’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

  My lips press together before I see someone stroll behind him, giving me a cue that everything’s ready. I make eye contact back with Nick, touch his cheek, and smile, “I still hope you win.”

  “Thanks,” he places another kiss, this time on my cheek. “Have to go.”

  After a wave good-bye, I turn to Dubs and ask, “Which way is the ladies room?”

  “Down the hall, take a left, and you’ll see the sign,” he informs me.

  I excuse myself from them and do just that, making a direct path to the ladies room. Once inside, I lean against the sink and wait for the few women to leave before locking the door behind them. My foot taps the tile, and Justin swings open the widest stall, suited up in gear similar to Nick’s.

  “Really? What happened to just watching?”

  “Opened spot,” he shrugs. “Besides, this is a better cover. Without me there to fight with you, it makes you more vulnerable to be stolen from.”

  “Clever,” I admire his getup.

  Adjusting Justin’s collar, I stroke his soft, freshly shaven face. He sighs, “You know I’m going to win, don’t you?”

  I lick my lips and lean my forehead against his, “You already have.”

  With a crooked grin, Justin flashes the folded map in front of me, “The sweetest victory will never be a win at a match or sword fight.” I take the map out of his hand, and he whispers, “But true love.”

  Justin winks and prepares to walk away when I grab his arm and plant a deep kiss on his lips. Pulling away reluctantly, he leaves the bathroom. I turn around, pull my hair to one side, and adjust my tight, clinging shirt, exposing more of myself to keep Dubs’s attention there rather than on my behaviors.

  I return to my seat and settle in, preparing to watch. The fencing tournament begins with little input from either competitor. Everything is going according to plan from the way Dubs’s face stays buried in his phone, texting Belle endlessly, keeping his attention right where we need it. Arnett, on the other hand, keeps me on his radar out of the corner of his eye.

  I raise my eyebrows, “Something wrong?”

  Arnett rubs his hands together, watching the back of Nick’s head, “Why do you ask?”

  “Seem tense,” I twirl a strand around my index finger. “Something bothering you?”

  He strokes his chin and leans over at me, “I’ve been thinking about Sous Clef.”

  “Nothing better to think about?” The Peter-like response slides out of my mouth before I can think it all the way through.

  Arnett nods, “Sous Clef relates directly to the business I’m in.”

  “Taking care of Nick?”

  “Is only part of my duty,” his attention shifts forward. Following his move, I keep my eyes on the match, “Sous Clef was replaced with a world-class forgery.”

  “So I hear.”

  “And you are great at spotting forgeries.”

  “How do you know?”

  “So I hear,” I turn, catching myself and trying to look nonchalant. Arnett smirks, “An old saying says those who can spot a forgery can often create a one.”

  “I’ve heard the same.”

  “Is it true?”

  “Are accusing me of something, Arnett?”

  “Where’d you say you were from again?”

  “I didn’t.” My lips press together before I answer, “Shoreline.”

  “Don’t look like the average Shoreline girl,” Arnett points at me. “They usually have deep tans and lighter hair, especially since they spend most of the time outside by the beach. After all, it’s in the name, Shoreline.”

  “I’m not average,” I correct him, turning my face forward once more to see Justin in the next round.

  “That you are not,” Arnett says, folding his hands and placing them in his lap.

  “Is that a crime?”

  “It is if you stole something that doesn’t belong to you.”

  “I did,” I put in a jab of my own, “Nick’s heart.”

  Arnett growls under his breath as Justin avoids a thrust aimed for his chest. Instead, he counters and lands a point much like I expected him to. He twirls the foil around in a taunting fashion. The round starts again. This time, I look over to see Dubs grinning at a flirty text from Belle.

  After checking his phone, Arnett cocks a grin, “When’s your father coming to meet you in town?”

  “Soon.” Remembering how uncool I played it when I almost let it slip I am really a Darling, I exert all my inner strength not to give into his attempted trickery. “We just talked this morning.” I watch Justin score again, and he wins the match flawlessly.

  “Well, I can’t wait to meet him.” Knowing Arnett is trying to rattle me, I nod. He offers, “We should all go out to breakfast when he comes in.”

  “Look, Nick’s up,” my head nods toward Nick as he pulls down his mask.

  We watch the rest of the tournament in near silence, with a few passing words about Nick’s performance. I watch the arena, looking for something that’s not as it should be. Before I know it, I see Lola in the seats across from the arena facing me. She’s dressed in a red pencil skirt, black top, oversized sunglasses, and a black hat. Assessing the situation, I notice Alex
has a seat beside her, looking more and more like a discount Peter. Uncomfortable, since we hadn’t predicted his arrival, I adjust myself in my seat while Lola gives me a wave from across the way. She wraps her arms around Alex’s and pretends to snuggle while discussing some sort of plan.

  My eyes look down at Justin, who rubs his nose, giving me the signal that it’s time. I make eye contact with Lola once more and reach for my purse between my feet.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have to hit the ladies room,” I escort myself past Dubs, who nods, and Arnett, who stares suspiciously for a moment. Catching on, I whisper, “It’s a woman thing.” Quickly, he gives a wave of understanding, proving that it doesn’t matter how old a guy gets, feminine time is a subject to be avoided at all costs.

  Walking up the stairs, I glance back at Lola, who seems to moving in unison with me, then back at Arnett, who looks slightly suspicious, as usual. I disappear into the hallway, which leaks into the foyer, where two security guards are patrolling. I give them a wave just before Dark Watchers plop down behind each, inserting needles into their necks and instantly knocking them out. A heavy dropping sound bounces back down the hallway.

  Pretending to be terrified, I take off down the hall only to run right into Lola. Sometimes her actions are more predictable than I ever thought they could be.

  “You look like Satan’s mistress,” I compliment her attire, clutching my purse tighter.

  She adjusts her skirt and smiles as if she saw Satan himself. A deep voice behind me says, “Mistress is probably the wrong word.”

  I gasp, and before I can react, Alex wraps one arm around my stomach, the other around my throat, capturing me much like he did the first time we met. His face nuzzles mine as he coos, “Miss me?”

  My body twitches, and he seems to be pleased with his position, much like always. Uncomfortable, I thrust my body back, head butting him, causing him to release me. I do my best to take off past Lola, knowing I won’t get far. She lets me make it past her before using her black belt, wrapping it around my arm and yanking me backward. Landing on my back, I hit my head with a massive crack before Lola puts her heel on throat like she did in the bathroom, except this time, I grab her ankle and flip her over. Her body bangs against the ground with a large thud. The two of us start scrambling around on the floor, rolling around, each giving as good as we got. Hair pulls are coming from her left and right, which inspire me to do something I never thought I would in a fight, bite.