The Lies Between Us

by M. N. Forgy

  THE LIES BETWEEN US

  Copyright © 2015 M.N. Forgy

  Edited by Hot Tree Editing

  Proofread by Julie Deaton

  Cover Photography by FuriousFotog

  Cover by Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

  Formatted by Max Effect

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  CONTENTS

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  Stalk M.N. Forgy

  DEDICATION

  I dedicate this book to those who were underestimated, and to those who fucked up and need a second chance at making things right. Love is raw, and hurts… but that’s how you know it’s real…. You feel.

  Think twice about the people you think are of lesser value, one could turn out to be the most important person in your life one day.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHERRY

  6 Years Before

  My head is spinning, and my body feels like dead weight. I’m falling into everything, as if I were top-heavy, and can barely stand straight. I lick my lips, and they tingle with an unusual sensation. I giggle and trip on my heels, falling right into a dresser. My elbow crashes into it, but it doesn’t hurt. Though I doubt I’ll be saying the same thing in the morning.

  “I am so fucked up,” I slur. I drank way too much. I smoked too much. Drugs and liquor don’t mix well. My brother Tyler threw a party for landing his first DJ gig and invited everyone he knew.

  “How many have you had to drink?” I look behind me and see two Erics. God, two of him is way better than one. I blink my eyes rapidly, and he finally comes into focus along with the rest of the room. A bedroom. How did I get in here? His arms are so muscular from college football. He’s played since high school; only before he was a bully to me. Always teasing me and calling me names. Now, he wants me, and has been flirting with me all night. He closes the gap between us and I stop giggling.

  “You wanna fool around?” he whispers into my ear, his breath smelling of alcohol. I throw my head back and laugh.

  “And why would I want to do that? You used—” I pause, trying to get my thoughts right. “You used to make fun of me in high school.” I sway on my heels, the drugs and booze wreaking havoc on my balance. He tilts his head to the side, his long, blond hair falling to his chin.

  “Did I now?” His voice comes out like silk, enveloping me in a warm cocoon.

  “Freckled-face Lindsay Cole, has an ugly pie hole.” I shake my head. Hearing the words leaving my lips sound just as ridiculous as they did back then.

  He laughs and rubs at his chin. “Yeah, well, that was high school.” He steps forward and grabs my hips. His touch shoots sparks through my body, and I mewl in response. Drunk Lindsay has no control of her sexual reactions, apparently.

  “You were just a girl.” He pulls his brows together. “You’ve really filled out nicely since then.” He chuckles and tilts his head back, assessing me. “Are you still a girl, Lindsay, or has some lucky man made you into a woman?” My body sobers, and my legs clench beneath my little pink dress.

  “Wh-what?” I stammer, my eyes widening. Eric smiles and pulls away from me. He kicks the door shut, the music from the party drowned out instantly.

  “I am going to take that reply as you’re still a virgin.” He turns and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing all his muscled glory. I sway and lean over, trying to get my fucking eyes to focus on his lean torso.

  “Oh, wow,” I mutter. He steps forward and grasps my hips, walking me backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed.

  “I’m going to make you a woman tonight, Lindsay Cole,” he whispers as my back presses into the mattress. I close my eyes and sigh.

  Finally. Eric McCormick wants me. For some reason, I feel like everything I ever wanted to achieve as a naïve nineteen-year-old has just been accomplished.

  Eight Weeks Later

  I cough and choke on my thick saliva over the toilet.

  “Just puke already,” I slur, trying to encourage my body to give in to the nausea. I’ve been sick for two weeks and cannot for the life of me shake this fucking flu. My brother Tyler hangs out at those stupid clubs; he probably gave me something.

  I stand and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, my mission to vomit failing for the fifth time this morning. When I see Tyler, I’m going to chew him out and then demand he make me a grilled cheese sandwich with chicken noodle soup for getting me sick.

  I zombie-walk into the living room, my tongue filling my mouth like it’s too big while my gag reflex is twitching with the urge to puke again. I close my eyes and swallow hard, trying to get a hold of myself. Slowly opening my eyes, I spot Tyler putting groceries away. I don’t live here, but I visit often. I moved out of the house when I was young. I couldn’t stand my father punching me in the face anymore so I said fuck it and bolted. I have learned to handle things on my own, and not expect others to do things for me. Tyler offered our old trailer to me once our dad moved out. He found some butch-looking woman who drove a Mac truck and ran off with her. Good riddance. I took the trailer ‘cause living in a shelter sucks, and I was done spending sweltering nights in my car. But, I hate that fucking trailer. It brings back too many memories.

  “Damn, Lindsay, you look like shit,” Tyler states, putting some cereal in a cupboard.

  “I feel like shit,” I groan, plopping on the couch. I can’t stand this couch. The material feels like old yarn, and it’s rough and itchy against my skin.

  “How long have you been sick?” Tyler questions. I turn in my seat and look at him. His hair is dyed black, with some blue and red streaks through it. Piercings in his eye and nose shine with the sun coming through the blinds. He looks like a punk.

  I shrug. “About two weeks.”

  Tyler shakes his head. “You got a fever?”

  “Nah, no fever. Just tired and feel like throwing up. I can’t shit, either.” I lay my head down on the couch and yawn.

  “You pregnant?”

  My eyes snap open in panic. I sit up and look over the couch, leveling Tyler with a look of dread.

  “You better go get a test. Then tell me the fucker you screwed so I can tear his nuts off.”

  “Fuck,” I whisper, throwing my head into my hands.

  “I got one in the bathroom. Go piss on it. Now!” Tyler points to his bedroom that holds a private bathroom. I tilt my head to the side and squint my eyes.

  “Why do you have—”

  “This chick I was fucking thought she was knocked up. I bought the whole damn shelf,�
� he informs. I roll my eyes. That doesn’t surprise me. Tyler is a player when it comes to girls.

  I find the test under the sink and piss on it quickly. Setting it on the counter, I turn, waiting for it to show a plus or negative sign.

  “What’s it say?” Tyler mumbles from the other side of the door.

  “I can’t look,” I mutter, not sure if he even heard me. I can’t look at it ‘cause I know what it will say. It’ll say I’m pregnant. Pregnant with Eric McCormick’s child.

  Tyler pushes into the bathroom. My back is still turned and I’m facing the tub, the test sitting on the sink behind me. I hear him sigh loudly, and with that exhale, my heart literally sinks into the pit of my stomach.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “No,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes. He grabs me and engulfs me in his arms. I sob ‘cause I’m too young to be a mother. I cry because Eric McCormick would be a shittier dad than I would a mom.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. You can do this, Lindsay,” my brother comforts. This is why I love him. Granted, growing up we did the typical brother and sister shenanigans—he’d destroy my Barbies, and I would annoy him and his friends. But we always had each other’s back. My mother left when I was a baby; being a mother just wasn’t her forte, I guess. Our father became a drunk when I was around the age of six and was nonexistent unless he was out of beer, which was when he was at his worst. My presence alone angered him; I think I reminded him of my mother. Tyler stepped in front of my father a few times, when our dad would get rough with me. It granted Tyler a broken arm once.

  “Tell me, whose is it?” Tyler pushes me an arm’s length away and searches my face. I bite my bottom lip, tears sliding down my cheeks.

  “Eric’s,” I mutter, looking down.

  “Fucking seriously, Lindsay?” Tyler knows how much of a hard time Eric gave me in high school.

  “What can I say, I like the challenge. Bad boys.” I shrug.

  “Goddamn boy is about right!” Tyler hollers. He turns and shoves his hand through his hair angrily before lowering his head. “Do yourself a favor and stay away from the bad boys, Lindsay. They’re nothing but assholes who will just hurt you in the end.” I cross my arms as a barrier to protect myself. Seeing Tyler disappointed stings.

  “You didn’t use any,” he pauses, still not looking at me, “protection or anything?”

  Wow, this is very embarrassing.

  “We were really drunk,” I explain. Tyler winces, like I just gave him a mental image.

  “Look.” Tyler glances up at me with dark eyes. “Go find that piece of shit, and tell him. Maybe he’ll step up.” Tyler shrugs. I roll my eyes and scoff. “Do it, Lindsay,” Tyler’s voice comes out bitter.

  I roll my eyes and grab the pregnancy test off the counter. How do I begin to tell a one-night stand that I’m pregnant?

  ***

  Standing on the porch of Eric’s house, my body trembles with the amount of adrenaline surfing through my veins. Fear wracks my kneecaps, and my fingers clench the pregnancy stick in my hand. Eric lives in the same trailer park I grew up in as a kid, so basically he’s my neighbor. His father built this two-story house at the end of the park and gave it to Eric just recently. Told him to watch over the trailer park while his father and stepmom traveled the world. He’s my landlord, in short.

  Sweat cascades down my spine as I lift my fist and knock on the door. It swings open, and I gasp.

  “Er-Eric,” I stammer. I can’t seem to speak; the words are lodged in my throat. That night after Eric took my virginity, I passed out and woke up with dried blood streaking down my legs and him gone. He’s given me the cold shoulder since. I figured it was a one-night stand and brushed it off. I was so fucked-up I could barely remember any of it anyway. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked knowing my first time was a one-night stand and not some love-struck moment you see on TV. But look at where I grew up—shit like that doesn’t happen here.

  “What do you want?” he questions, his tone harsh. He leans against the doorframe, one arm resting above his head. He’s not wearing a shirt, and that six-pack I thought he had weeks before is definitely not a six-pack. Gotta love the fairytale effect alcohol can give.

  “I need to talk to you,” I reply meekly. I look past him and see a bunch of his buddies eyeing me. Buddies who used to join in with him bullying me in high school. Insecurities shift in my head, and I swallow hard.

  He looks over his shoulder then back to me with a crooked smile. He knows I’m uneasy and is getting off on it. Asshole.

  “Just spit it out and get the fuck off my porch.” His words shoot straight to my heart like cancer. My blood runs toxic and my lips curl. Total prick!

  “I’m fucking pregnant!” I snap.

  His eyes go wide, and his friends go quiet. Eric glances over his shoulder with a look of embarrassment, and walks out of the house, slamming the door.

  “What the fuck do you mean? You weren’t on the pill?” He strides up to me, his body way too close.

  I hold my hands out and push him away from me.

  “No, I wasn’t on the fucking pill. I was a virgin, you dumbass.” I throw the pee stick at him.

  “I don’t want anything to do with it - with you.” He holds his hands up and walks backwards like the baby growing in my belly might jump out at any minute.

  “I can get an abortion or something,” I mutter, not really thinking. My brain feels stuffed, like it’s at max capacity and pushing against my skull. All of this is happening at once and I can’t deal. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead trying to ease the pain, the racing thoughts.

  “What? Jesus, Lindsay. I guess you can just put me first on a long list of those, huh? They’ll know you by name in a couple years, I bet.” He chuckles, his tone back to that bully in high school. My hands clench, and I want to rip his smug face off his head. I don’t want to give the baby up, I’m just nervous and word vomited before I could really think about what I was saying. This baby has a piece of me, and I would never harm him or her.

  “But it’s probably for the best looking at who her mother is,” Eric clips. My heart sinks, knowing he would want to cause harm to our child just because of me though.

  “Yeah, know what? I’ll keep it and get your ass for every fucking dime.” I turn to walk down the stairs and he grabs my arm.

  “You wouldn’t dare.” His face holds a deathly promise, but I don’t falter. Eric’s real mother left his dad when Eric was young, after she bled his father dry for years. Everyone around the trailer park heard the fights late at night. I knew saying I would take all of Eric’s money would spark his wick of anger.

  “Try me, ass-wipe,” I grit. He digs his hold into my arm, and I whimper.

  “You don’t want to mess with me. I know people, Lindsay Cole,” he threatens. I bring my knee up and slam it into his balls. He instantly lets go of my arm and drops to the porch. If I learned anything from my piece-of-shit father, it’s that the balls are your best option when you want to get away.

  “You don’t want to mess with me. I don’t need people to do my dirty work, Eric. I’ll just fucking tear you to shreds myself.” I step over him, a smirk of pride fitting my face.

  “I’m not scared of you, freckled-face Lindsay Cole.” His voice is laced with a screech from the amount of pain he’s in.

  I walk down the steps and flip him the bird. “Then you’re one stupid motherfucker!”

  10 Months Later

  “Judge, Mr. McCormick is an unacceptable guardian for the child. He-”

  “I’m going to cut you off right there, counselor. Looking at Ms. Cole’s file here, I would have to beg to differ,” Judge Calhoun interjects. I swallow the dry lump in my throat, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. A nervous sweat breaks out on my forehead. Judge Calhoun is an older man; his hair is curly and mostly white, with a few specks of black sweeping through the back. He’s wearing rimless glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose, and he has that ‘don’t give me shi
t’ look down pat.

  “Judge, i-if I m-may,” my lawyer stammers, and I give him a sideways glance. I couldn’t afford a lawyer, so I was handed this fucktard, who doesn’t seem to know what the hell he’s doing. I can’t tell if he’s trying to be bad at this, or if he just sucks outright.

  “No, you may not,” the judge cuts him off. He holds up a piece of paper, tilting his head back to look through his glasses. “Lindsay Cole, two counts of theft, illegal substances, assault,” Judge Calhoun rambles onward, reading my record of all the unlawful incidents I’ve been pegged for over time. How does he have that shit on me? He sighs and swipes his glasses off his face, narrowing his eyes at me like I’m the Devil. “She has a rap sheet a mile long. As for the father, he’s as clean as a whistle. I think I would be doing this child a favor taking the mother out of the picture.” I gasp with dread and pull on my lawyer’s arm. My ears ring, and I feel like I may faint.

  “How does he know about those things? All of it happened when I was underage,” I whisper in disbelief. “You have to do something!” My lawyer has a look of ignorance written on his face, like he’s in above his head, and my mouth pops open. I’m dumbfounded at how stupid he is for a fucking lawyer.

  I avert my eyes from my lawyer and glance at Eric across the way. He’s sitting back in his chair, an arrogant smirk across his face as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. He thinks he’s going to win this, and by the way this is going, he just might. Gah! I just want to slam his face into that table. My fingernails dig into my chair with the unbearable urge to do it. He doesn’t want Piper; he just wants her so I can’t tarnish his name. He wants to prove a point his father couldn’t prove with his mother. He wants to hurt me ‘cause he knows he can. That is who he is, after all; he’s a bully and he won’t change. A little boy with a magnifying glass, and I’m the ant that was stupid enough to walk right in his line of sight.

  The gavel slams, making me jump.

  “I’ve made my decision. Lindsay Cole, you are denied guardianship over Piper Cole. Full custody is granted to Mr. Eric McCormick.”