The Lies Between Us

by M. N. Forgy

  “Sup, Ma?” I climb off my bike and head toward her, enveloping her small bony frame into mine.

  “My boy, it’s been too long,” she cries into the crook of my neck.

  “Mom, it’s only been a few weeks,” I laugh.

  “Yeah, well, I get lonely.” She pulls back and slaps at my shoulder. “Your brother is inside setting the table now.”

  I look at the two-story house, the house that was my mother’s starting over chip. She moved here after my father was killed. I came with her and found Devil’s Dust shortly after. Ever since Zeek and I moved out, Ma has tried to get us to come over for dinner at least once a month. When I was in jail, she would visit at least once a month. Zeek never came, and I didn’t expect him to.

  I step inside the house and see pictures of Zeek and me as kids. Mom has them hung all over the living room walls like a fucking shrine. It’s humiliating. I can see it now: if I brought Cherry here, my mother would whip out the pictures and laugh at my expense. My mother knows about her, but that’s about it. She’s asked to meet Cherry, but it’s just not the right time.

  The smell of pot roast takes my eyes off the wall and toward the kitchen.

  “Smells good, Ma.” I inhale deeply and walk toward the mouthwatering smell.

  “Zeek,” I greet, my tone dry.

  “Brother,” Zeek responds, sitting at the dining table. His dark brown hair is pulled into a small ponytail at the top, the rest of his head shaved. He’s wearing a dark blue shirt with rosary beads around his neck, and has his boots kicked up on one of Ma’s chairs.

  “Sup?” I tug the chair that his feet rest in, making them drop to the floor with a ‘thud’.

  Sitting in the chair, I feel him staring at me.

  “What?” I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s rubbing his chin, a fucking smirk crossing his face.

  “You ever talk to your president about letting us in on some business. I told you we got much better drugs than you’re getting, bet money on it,” he states, his tone holding a high volume of confidence.

  “No, I didn’t. I think it’s best if you keep your fucking skunk weed in Vegas and out of my affairs, brother,” I retort.

  Zeek’s face falls, the veins in his neck protruding suddenly. “My shit is the best in Vegas, I’ll have you know. You can pussy foot around the DeLuca family business all you want, but you will be involved one way or another. I can promise you that, brother,” he threatens. He swears on our father’s dead body that he’ll make me a Sin City Outlaw one day.

  “Yeah, I’m sure your weed is that fucking fantastic that you can’t find a buyer, so you’re going to try and hustle me here at Ma’s dinner table.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. I shake my head and smirk at his flustered face.

  “Boys, no business talk at the dinner table. I’ve told you that,” Mother scolds, striding into the dining room. She has blue mittens on each hand, carrying the crock-pot to the table.

  “Hey, Ma, just trying to help Lip out.” Zeek leans back in his chair, his face back to its normal cocky appearance. He shrugs and smirks. “But Lip never was any good at knowing what was good for him.” I narrow my brows. I’m getting really tired of this back and forth bullshit.

  “Zeek!” my mother hisses.

  Zeek trails his eyes from me to her.

  “Sorry, Ma,” he mutters. He’s not sorry, but he’s about to be. I grab the knife next to my plate; it’s intended for cutting meat, but I’m about to cut into my brother’s neck if he doesn’t shut the fuck up.

  Ma sits down and stirs the pot roast.

  “So, Lip, when are you going to bring this girl of yours over here for dinner?” My stomach falls. I knew she was going to ask—she does every time I fucking talk to her. I really just need to clear the way between Cherry and me but now I feel like it’s gone on too long. When it is revealed, when I reveal my omission to Cherry, it’ll go badly. I’m not sure Cherry will stick around, and I don’t want to go filling Ma’s head with fairytale shit of me running off into the sunset with some chick, so I keep Cherry away.

  “Cherry? Not anytime soon, Ma,” I reply, dipping the ladle into the pot. Ma would love Cherry, and that doesn’t make things easier on me. It’s for the best. Things are already more blurred than I can comprehend as it is, so I don’t need to make it worse by mixing both families together.

  “See, doesn’t know what’s good for him. I haven’t seen this bitch, but from what I hear, she’s hot enough to fuck twice on Sundays,” Zeek insults.

  I grab the knife and stand from the table. Rage and anger filling my veins, all I see is red. All I want is to make his fucking skin bleed. Nobody talks about Cherry like that. Zeek doesn’t move from his seat, just continues to butter his bread as I stand over him with a serrated knife.

  “Lip, sit your fucking ass down now!” My mother stabs the table with a cutting knife, grabbing mine and Zeek’s attention. My mother is a badass bitch, regardless of her attempt to play housekeeper. I have seen her stab a woman for disrespecting her before, shoot at a man trying to get into our house, and she knows the perfect combo to get blood out of the carpet. I woke up in the middle of the night as a child finding her scrubbing the living room carpet enough times to know. She is one female you don’t want to fuck with. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.

  “Zeek, you best shut your fucking mouth. Lip, sit your ass down and ease up.” My mother tugs the knife out of the dining table and points it at the food. “Eat, damn it!”

  CHERRY

  I hear the loud pipes thunder as Lip pulls into the drive, so I turn the shower off and step out to dry off. I pull on my red bra and matching panties before putting on my white shirt and blue jeans.

  When I open the door, he’s pulling his shirt over his head. His chiseled chest takes my breath away. I’d do anything to run my claws down that in a fit of ecstasy.

  “You’re back,” I state. Lip turns his head slightly before slipping onto the comforter. He said he wouldn’t be back yesterday, and he kept his word. “Where were you?” I interrogate.

  “Out,” he replies. I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe.

  “Seriously?” I cock my head to the side, anger building in my chest. It hurts that he doesn’t talk to me anymore. I’m furious that I’ve become that girlfriend who has to question her man every time she sees him because she knows he’s hiding something from her. I’m not sure I can do this shit anymore.

  He pulls his head off the pillow and pins me with a glare.

  “I said I was fucking out. Now let it be,” he snaps. I jump with his outburst. Who does he think he’s talking to? I lean down and grab one of my heels and throw it at his head, hitting it spot-on.

  “What the fuck?!” He shoots up off the bed, his body puffed out with rage. I don’t back down; he doesn’t scare me. If anything, it turns me on. My mind drifts with sexual need, but the glare in his eyes reminds me to stand my ground.

  “Where the fuck were you?” I question again. He steps up to me and fists my hair roughly. My heart skips a beat; this is not Lip. This is a man I’ve never seen before. The muscles in his arm flex and dance as he pulls my head back, our eyes locking. My thirst for sex wins, and I mewl in response. I can’t help my arousal from the dominant anger radiating off him. This side of Lip has never shown before, it’s unfamiliar and a turn on I didn’t expect. His eyes widen when he notices my excitement from his roughness.

  “I was at my mom’s most of yesterday, and then I stayed at the club last night ‘cause I didn’t get back till really late. Now chill the fuck out,” he mutters. He leans down and smashes his lips to mine, his cold lip ring against my warm lips causing a shiver to race up my limbs. I sway into him, wanting him to grab me and throw me over the bed. It’s been weeks since he’s had sex with me, but it was so distant, I might as well have been fucking my vibrator. I’m so worked up with sexual tension I can barely think straight. He pulls back and my body sags with sorrow.

  “Where are you off to
this morning?” he questions, crawling back into bed. I bite my bottom lip.

  “Um, I’m thinking about trying some yoga. Going to go check that out,” I lie. I’m going to see Piper. I hate lying to him, but I have no choice. He can’t know about Piper, not yet.

  “Fuck that,” he grumbles into the comforter.

  I grab some flip-flops and hightail it out of there before he questions me any further.

  ***

  Sitting outside of the trailer park waiting for Piper, I see a couple walking out of a trailer holding hands. The tall blonde releases her partner’s hand and he grabs it again, pulling her into a big kiss. I watch them, watch the love and life surrounding them without a care in the world. That was Lip and me years ago.

  A knock sounds on my car window making me jump. Piper. I smile and climb out of the car. I look over to where the couple was and notice them gone.

  “Can you help me with my hair?” I slowly trail my eyes from the trailer to Piper and notice her hair is a tangled mess. I try and slide my fingers through her red locks, but they get caught instantly. Her hair is dry and rough.

  “What happened?” I question, trying to untangle the mess.

  “My dad forgot to pick up shampoo, so he told me to use the dish soap,” she replies softly.

  My eyes widen. What the actual fuck?

  “Dish soap?” I ask, making sure I heard her right.

  “Yeah,” she huffs. That explains why it’s so dry and tangled.

  “Hang on a minute.” I get in my car and dig out my keratin spray and brush. I spray her hair and brush it over and over before it finally falls into silky waves.

  “You know, Cherry, we have the same color hair,” Piper observes. My eyes widen, and my hand stops mid-brush.

  “Yeah. Yeah, we do,” I reply softly. The yellow school bus pulls up, the brakes squeaking as it comes to a full stop. Thankful for its arrival, I lean down and give Piper a big kiss on the head, taking in the smell of her.

  “You have a good day, Piper,” I whisper into her hair.

  “See you tomorrow?” She tilts her head back and looks up at me. Her eyes are the same color as mine.

  “Yeah. I’ll be here,” I mumble.

  LIP

  “First order of business. The drop went smoothly, but the drugs seemed to be of low quality,” Bull announces, lighting a cigarette.

  “Should we find a different supplier?” Tom Cat asks. He slides his hands back and forth through his hair and looks around the table for a reply.

  “This will do for now, but yes, we need someone who isn’t growing weed out of their ditch,” Bull replies, blowing cigarette smoke into the air.

  “Kids today can’t be happy with what they get,” Hawk grumbles from the back of the table. He rubs at his white mustache that matches his old-ass hair. He’s older than dirt and pretty much just says what he’s thinking, whether or not it makes sense. I just nod and agree with him half the time, because I never know what the fuck he’s talking about.

  I could tell the club about my brother and their club in Vegas, but I’m not sure if it’s something I want to get wrapped up in. I don’t think it’s a good idea. People could get hurt, and I would be to blame for introducing them.

  “Tonight, we’re having a party. Got some girls coming from the Wicked Birds, and The Ghost Riders are going to be here. It should be a fun night,” Bull informs, slamming his cigarette into the ashtray. Wicked Birds is a strip club we take profit in, a cover for our illegal expenses. My uncle on my mother’s side runs the place. He’s a tool, but safe. He wouldn’t fuck us; in fact, he hated my father when my mother introduced them.

  “Why are we having the Ghost Riders here?” Shadow questions. Bull sighs and lowers his head.

  “Because, they are a big club. Their president has connections with some men from the Cartel, and I want those connections,” Bull explains. “Maybe they can replace our skunk weed dealer we got.”

  The Ghost Riders are disloyal. I’ve seen them turn against their own, and rumor has it they have no rules in their club. They are rapists, murders, all of it. But Bull’s right; given their dubious rep, they have respect and connections with every outlaw organization you can think of. Getting them on our good side would benefit the club.

  Bull slams the gavel down, dismissing everyone.

  CHERRY

  I stir my cup with my straw and wait for Dani to show up. She’s an ol’ lady I have grown to love over the years. She is the president’s daughter and one of my best friends. She met Shadow, fell deeply in love with him and got married. I hate her sometimes. She has the perfect life. Sexy, caring husband. Two adorable children. Big house. Loving father. All that’s missing is the pink corvette.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late. Did you already order?” She sits down on the opposite side of the table and tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. You can’t even tell she’s had two kids, she barely gained over ten lbs the whole time she carried Shadow’s children.

  “I did, I got us burgers,” I inform.

  “Sounds good.” She pins me with her vibrant green eyes and smiles. “How have you been?”

  I shrug. I always tell her I’m doing great and that Lip is amazing, but it’s always a lie. I mean, how do you tell someone who has the perfect everything that your life is falling apart?

  “Are you okay, Cherry?” She pulls her brows together and gives a concerning look. I want to lie like usual, but I need someone to talk to, someone to tell me what the hell to do. I close my eyes and look down at my glass of Coke. I’m always the one giving love advice. Hell, life advice. Yet here I am at the end of my rope.

  “No, I’m not okay. In fact, I haven’t been okay for a while.” I sit back in my seat, and cross my arms.

  “What happened, what’s wrong?” The waiter sets our plates down on our table and asks if we’d like anything else. Dani shoos him away.

  “Lip.” I shrug, the smell of the burgers consuming my thoughts.

  “What about him?”

  “He’s just different. I noticed the changes while visiting him in prison. I didn’t think anything of it, because I thought being locked up he was just depressed or something. When he got out of prison, it was worse, and I thought it would go away, but it’s not.” I shove my plate away, not hungry anymore.

  “What do you mean by different?”

  “I dunno, like he’s hiding something from me. He has this look of darkness I can’t explain. There’s tension between us that was never there before.” I sit up in my seat and blow out an irritated breath. “You know we’ve only had sex three times since he was released a month ago. is something so nasty and dark sitting between us it’s like there isn’t any room for anything else.”

  “Damn, Cherry, I didn’t know.”

  “There are times he doesn’t come home for a couple nights in a row,” I mutter.

  “You think he’s cheatin’? ‘Cause we will go key his bike right fucking now!” Dani threatens. I can’t help but laugh. Sounds like something I would normally offer someone. I’ve rubbed off on her well.

  “I don’t know if he’s cheating. But if he is, I will chop his fucking nuts off.”

  “You know the club is having a party this Friday.” Dani lifts a brow.

  “Really? Maybe I should give an unexpected visit.”

  “Maybe.” Dani smiles wickedly.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LIP

  The club is blaring with music, and the lights are dimmed. The air is filled with smoke and cheap perfume, and a wave of people. I stride to the bar and grab a beer, watching the crowd.

  Bull is sitting on the leather couch, a blonde chick wearing nothing but a bright pink bikini bottom dancing on a coffee table right in front of him. She has a nice pair of tits on her, but they’d be better if they were bigger.

  Tom Cat has some girl bobbing up and down on his lap, and Bobby and Doc, our club doctor, are in the corner, making out with each other like a bunch of preteens. I take a sip of my beer. I
should go home to Cherry.

  “You look awfully lonely.” I look over my shoulder and find Dolly leaning against the bar, a beer in her hand.

  “I’m not,” I reply, dry.

  She smiles and steps up next to me.

  “I think I may be drunk.” She giggles, her dark hair falling in front of her face. I look her up and down. She’s wearing some purple skimpy-looking top and black shorts. She stumbles into me, and I catch her.

  “Maybe you should go lie down,” I encourage, trying to stand her up right. She turns in my hold, her body limp.

  “You have really pretty eyes,” she slurs.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I respond, uninterested.

  She frowns. “Are you gay or something?”

  I smirk, trying to fight through my laughter. I level her with a serious stare and cock my head to the side.

  “Why do you think that? Because I’m not interested in some teeny-bopper who can’t hold her liquor?” She doesn’t respond, her eyes blinking rapidly like she’s trying convince herself I didn’t just say what I did.

  “I don’t like girls who spread their legs easily. You’re like a fucking penny—you’re two-faced and in everyone’s pants.” Her mouth opens and closes and her eyes flutter. I think she’s having an aneurism or some shit.

  I hear a familiar giggle and look up. One of the Ghost Riders has his hand wrapped around Cherry’s waist, whispering something into her ear. What is she doing here? She laughs and tries to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. My brows pull together, and my blood goes cold.

  I drop Dolly, letting her fall to the floor. Stomping toward the guy, my heart is slamming so hard in my chest my vision blurs. I can feel the poison of the reaper swimming in my veins. I am going to kill this motherfucker. Without warning, I grab the fucker by the throat and slam his head against the brick wall. Cherry screams and jumps back. I pull my knife out of my back pocket and flip it open. Without a second thought, I slam it forward, but my wrist is caught quickly before the blade can make contact.

  “Drop it, brother,” Bobby whispers into my ear. I shrug him off and try to push through his hold, ready to gut this fucker.