I wouldn’t do this if he refused. I have never had unprotected sex before because I have a horrible fear of getting pregnant.
Perhaps I'm at that age when pregnancy should no longer be a scare, but I'm not ready for a child.
I can barely take care of myself and I'm definitely not ready for a child with Tyler.
I turn my head to the other side and he kisses me again.
Our mouths barely touch and then the kisses get sloppy and out of control.
He keeps running his hands up and down my body, bringing me into a state of anticipation. Quickly, all thoughts empty out of my mind and I can only think about one thing: him.
I try to turn around, but Tyler stops me. He presses me harder against the wall.
“Do you like this?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
“Push me harder,” I whisper and he does.
He rubs his hands over the sides of my buttocks admiring the smoothness of them.
I think back to grabbing onto his cock and how hard and big it felt in my hands.
Pushing my legs open wider with his knees, I feel myself dripping with anticipation.
A breath gets caught in the back of my throat.
“I want you,” I mumble just as he finally pushes himself inside.
My body trembles as he starts to glide in and out, piercing me and impaling me with his cock.
My body starts to move with him and we find a rhythm that works for both of us. Then just as I start to relax, he reaches over and finds my clit with his other hand. When he starts playing with that, the world caves in.
The familiar warming sensation builds at my core. Only this time, I can't hold back.
He opens his mouth to kiss my shoulder but gives off a moan and bites down. This pushes me over the top.
A wave rushes through me, followed by another and another. My feet go numb and all sensation disappears from my hands.
He continues to thrust in and out of me until we have nothing left.
Right after Tyler collapses on top of me, there's a knock on the door.
“Sheesh,” I whisper loudly, putting my finger over my lips.
We are in the middle of the living room and if they take a few steps over and look through the glass window, they will have a perfect view of us.
Someone knocks again.
I gather our clothes and push Tyler into the kitchen. There's a door there that leads to the backyard, which he could use in case someone comes in.
I put my clothes on as quickly as possible and help Tyler with his.
When I turn back to look at the front door, I see Mrs. Bowden peeking into the window.
9
Isabelle
“Hi, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you,” I say as soon as I open the door.
I try not to lean back and look at the living room to assess if Tyler got all of his stuff out of the way and at the same time block the door with my body as much as I can.
“Sorry about just popping in, but I actually don't have your phone number,” Mrs. Bowden says, holding a Tupperware container in front of her. “I made some pie and thought that you would like to have some.”
“Oh, wow, thank you so much,” I say, adjusting my clothes and taking the container from her.
I open the lid and see a generous chunk of freshly made cherry pie inside. The top of it is made in a crisscross pattern and glazed with something that makes it catch the light.
Fresh cherries are pushing through the crisscross pattern and it’s making my mouth water.
“I don't think I’ve ever had fresh pie before.”
“No? Well, then, you are in for a real treat.”
I can tell that she's itching for me to invite her inside, but I don't. Instead I just keep standing near the front door, keeping it slightly ajar and holding onto whatever privacy I can, secretly praying that she will go away.
There's an unbearably long pause that we both suffer through and in the middle of another one, she finally lets up and tells me to enjoy myself.
“I hope you go out to the lake sometime and not just stay cooped up in here. It's a beautiful day.”
I don't know if she has any children, but she talks to me as if I'm one of them.
It feels like some unwanted advice but given my own fraught relationship with my mother, I actually welcome it.
“Okay, she's gone!” I yell, waiting a few moments after closing the door behind her to make sure that I see her walking toward her house. Tyler comes out from the shadows in the kitchen.
“That was close.” He laughs.
“Yeah, that would've been pretty terrible.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out and doing nothing in particular.
It's a nice change of pace. I know that nothing is resolved about whether or not I will accompany him in his new life, but for now that's okay.
I'm fine with that. It feels nice to just sit here with him, read, and be normal.
The longer we stay here, the more I realize that perhaps Tyler's enough.
Maybe I can make a new life with him. We get along really well and we like to do the same things.
Stay home, keep to ourselves, and that kind of thing.
So, will it work?
After I finish my book, I go over to the bookshelf to find another, but nothing strikes my interest. Instead I get back on the computer and make my way to Mallory Deals' blog.
He is a defense attorney who has a podcasting website talking about Tyler's innocence. He’s never met Tyler before but got interested in the story when he heard about in the news. The more that he researched and the more evidence that he gained, the more he became convinced that he is an innocent man.
Mallory had started his website right after Tyler's conviction and so far, he has not posted anything new about the escape.
As I read through some of the previous articles, I get a notification that there's a new one posted. When I scroll up, I see that it's all about the escape.
The story is pretty similar to what Tyler and Mac told me in the car. Knotted sheets and power tools show up again and again. There's little new information there that I haven't read and synthesized from various newspaper articles, but it's nice to read something written by an ally.
“Hey, look at this,” I say excitedly to Tyler and bring my computer to him.
He looks up from the book that he's reading on his phone and as soon as he sees the screen, he looks away.
“I don't want to talk about my case,” he says.
“No, it's not about that.”
“Isn't that the attorney who says that I'm innocent?”
“Yes, but this is about your escape.”
“I already know how that happened,” Tyler says.
I get angry. I hate how dismissive he is of this whole situation.
“He's the only person out there, out in the real world, who believes in you. Besides me. Why don't you want to read what he has to say? If he believes in your innocence, then maybe he can get other people to do it, too?”
Tyler shrugs.
“Do you see that he may be the way that you can clear your name? Not just get a new identity and live under that assumed name, always hiding from every new person out there. This is the way that you can get your old name back.”
“I will never be able to get my name back,” Tyler says. “I used to think that I could, but I realize now that I can't.”
“Why?”
“There might've been a way to clear myself and get a new trial while I was still on the inside. Now that I've escaped? They're never going to let that happen. They will never believe that I was innocent. Innocent people don't run away.”
“Of course they do. If they see a way out.”
“Yes, you and I know that. They don't. I'll never be able to clear my name. I'll never be able to live as Tyler McDermott, a free man, in the world again.”
10
Tyler
I d
on't know why I have such a visceral reaction to contacting that lawyer who thinks that I'm innocent. I should be happy that someone believes me.
I am.
I just hate that Isabelle keeps bringing it up.
She thinks that it's my only hope, but I know that it will take a lot more than that to get my conviction vacated.
Here's the problem: I ran away.
If I were still in prison, the task of returning my case and getting a new trial would be insurmountable.
Now that they have the FBI and the federal marshals after me? They’ll never let me go.
I like to think that it's possible to prove my innocence, but in the meantime, I want to live life.
I'm out here, in the free world, and I'm not going to risk going back there on a chance of something better.
There is nothing better. I'm with the woman I love, we have a nice cabin, and we can do anything we fucking want.
Shouldn't that be enough?
“I just think that Mallory might be the guy who could clear your name,” Isabelle says, pointing my attention back to his website. “I mean, he has this whole podcast and a blog devoted just to this case. He never reached out to you before. Why would he be doing all of this?”
“I'm not arguing with the fact that he believes me. I'm glad that he does.”
“If he already thinks that you're innocent, imagine what he would think knowing that you actually have an alibi for that night.”
“No, I don't,” I say, shaking my head.
She furrows her brows.
“What are you talking about? You told me that you were with Tessa–”
“Yes. That's where I was, but I don't have that alibi anymore. Tessa wanted nothing to do with that when I was first arrested, before I was convicted, and before she was there when Mac shot me.”
“Okay,” she says quietly, not really understanding what I'm getting at.
“Tessa didn't want to testify or even go on the record for me then. She's absolutely not going to do it now.”
“I know that it's a difficult sell–”
“No, it's an impossible one.”
“Why?”
“Tessa is connected to one of the Mexican cartels. I don't know exactly what her involvement is, but she's making a lot of money and it’s largely thanks to them. That was why she refused to get involved and tell the cops that I was with her that night. When I came to her for help, she told me that she would deny it.”
“So, you never told the cops during your initial interview?”
“No, of course not. That was probably one of the reasons that she continued to pay her debt to me while I was in prison.”
“What about now? She still owes you money.”
“Thanks to you, we have about a third of it and I think that is pretty much all we can expect.”
“So, you don't think that I should reach out to Mallory and talk to him about this?”
My blood runs cold.
My hand involuntarily forms into a fist as I try to gain control of my anger.
“Were you seriously thinking about contacting him? Now? To tell him what?”
“I don't know. Something. He believes you.”
I scoot over to her and try to stay as calm as possible.
“Isabelle, you cannot contact him. You cannot tell him that you are involved with me. You cannot tell him anything about my case. The one thing that we have going for us right now is that no one knows where we are and no one knows that we are together.”
“Except for Mac, Maggie, Tessa, and that other guy Nicholas,” she says.
“Yes, but they're not talking. Mac is a runaway just like me. Everybody's looking for him, too.”
“I just keep thinking that there must be some other evidence. Maybe something that the prosecutor didn't test.”
“Yes, there may be, but how the hell am I going to find that out? I'm not even in prison filing an appeal. Everyone is looking for me. We have no idea who that guy is. We can't trust anyone.”
I keep repeating this over and over again in hopes that I’m getting through to her.
Of course, she must know this already and I'm just overreacting, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. I have already made too many mistakes on this trip, but so far, I've been lucky.
“So, what do you want to do?”
“I just want to start a new life,” I say.
“Are you going to do that?”
“I need a new identity. I don't know how to get one yet, but I'm going to try to figure it out.”
Clearly frustrated, if not annoyed, Isabelle takes her computer and moves over to the dining room table.
I want to apologize for being so blunt, but I don't.
I want her to know how serious I am about keeping our secrets to ourselves.
I pour myself a cup of coffee and then sit back down on the couch. My body continues to ache and the Tylenol is barely making a dent in the pain, but I don't have anything stronger.
There are other ways to clear the pain from your body. I put in my earphones and put on a meditation app.
I listen to her soothing voice and try to clear my mind and be present in this moment right now.
After a few minutes, each one of my breaths becomes less and less laborious. The throbbing pain in my shoulder starts to diminish or at least not affect me as much.
Ten minutes later, I open my eyes, feeling a lot better.
Running my finger over the embroidery on the couch, I consider reaching out to the old friend who lives in Seattle and peddles in new identities.
I haven't talked to him in years and I'm not sure if he’s still in the game, but I know for sure that is something that he had done before and I'm pretty sure that he would do it again.
Although, I like the fact that no one besides Isabelle knows about me and if I were to reach out to him, he'd be someone who knows.
No, I'll keep him as an option on the back burner.
11
Tyler
I get my phone and look up how to get a new identity online, possibly via the dark web. I don't really know anything about it except that there is a part of the Internet where people can use Bitcoin to buy drugs, sex, and other illegal things like identities.
I've never looked this up before because I never wanted anyone to look at my search history, but with this burner phone that we should probably get rid of after we leave this place and replace with a new phone, I finally feel safe enough to go on the Internet to get some answers.
Bitcoin is a crypto currency that was initially used on the dark web as an untraceable payment method to buy various goods and services. When I do a rudimentary search on Google, a website shows up comparing costs of new identities by country.
Apparently, the cost varies depending on where you want the new identity to originate.
This person comes with a new passport, driver’s license, birth certificate, educational certificate, and even a financial profile. Some passports are real, stolen from existing people and resold to identity seekers. Others are completely fabricated by the counterfeiters.
Depending on the location where someone wants to relocate, the average cost of a new identity is about $1,300.
As I continue to scroll through, I'm surprised to find that the average cost of a fake identity is the cheapest in the United States, about $1,267 and going up to $1,470 in Australia.
All in all, the identity doesn't seem to be that expensive.
Another site mentions that the average cost of a dark web passport that is genuine is about $850 for an American passport and slightly less for other English-speaking countries.
As I continue to read, I find out about how to get a birth certificate and even a fake Bachelor’s degree or PhD. Maybe I shouldn’t be that surprised given everything that has happened, but I'm a little bit appalled by how easy it is to figure identity down to even getting a license to practice medicine.
When I scroll all the way to the bottom, I get to the part that is o
f particular interest to me: financial documents.
Apparently, this is a relatively new and very popular service where anyone can renew their financial status with new bank accounts, new credit cards, new credit scores, and even new PayPal accounts. Some of these bank account numbers are stolen while others are wheel accounts that are spread out across various owners to make the ultimate ownership impossible to trace.
Of course, given that you are dealing with people on the dark web and everything about this is illegal, it's difficult to tell how authentic any of these are, but at $1,300 a pop, they are definitely worth a try.
When I first made the plan to escape from prison, I was careful not to look up anything online that would give them any hint as to what I was planning to do.
I've never looked up how to find identity before and had rudimentary knowledge about this whole process. Now that I'm a little bit more educated, I realize that I can actually start a whole new real life.
Before, I thought that I would get a new passport, maybe Social Security card, but spend the rest of my life paying for things in cash and looking over my shoulder.
Given the fact that I can get a bank account and a credit history in addition to the birth certificate and just about anything else, I can actually become this other person.
A real person in society who has credit and can buy a car or even a house using that credit. $90,000 is a lot of money, but it's not enough to retire comfortably.
I ran a hedge fund and I know a little bit about day trading. It's not exactly like gambling, but after a while you make pretty steady returns especially if you do your research.
I always thought that I would need to use someone else's Social Security number or bank account in order to make that money, someone like Isabelle.
Now?
Now I realize that I can be a complete person all on my own.
“How's it going?” Isabelle asks, walking over to me.
I show her my phone and she scrolls through, reading some of the details.
“Wow, that's a lot cheaper than I thought it would be.”
The Perfect Lie (The Perfect Stranger) Page 5