Pre-Approved Identity Theft

by Nellie K Neves

  I’d take her car, but if it gets reported stolen the cops will certainly be willing to prosecute. Clothes, not so much.

  I hope.

  I know the BART train goes out of the city. But once I’m out there, what then? Do I call Jerry? Leave him out of it? I have Indigo’s newest paycheck in the account. It has to get me somewhere.

  I try to stick to the clothes stuck at the back of the closet. I toss in my toiletries, because I paid for them. If I stop moving, I’ll lose it. I can’t think about what I’m doing. This is about survival.

  A knock sounds at my door, sharp, like Indigo’s mother from last week. Hopeful that she’s willing to listen, I abandon packing and move to the door. My breath shakes as I try to draw one in. My fingers cinch around the knob and I pull it open.

  “Declan,” his name falls out of my mouth before I can even register that he’s standing there.

  Three wrinkles hold his eyebrows close together; furrowed under the pain my presence causes him. The lips I used to call mine are slightly parted with all the words he can’t say. For one second, I worry that he’s going to turn and leave, hands still stuffed in his pockets because neither one of us knows what to do with them if we’re not holding each other.

  “Can I come in?” he asks, and I reverse to allow him space.

  He needs it. Where he used to pull close to me to eliminate the distance between us, now it drives up thick and he welcomes it.

  The door clicks shut and all that’s left is our silence.

  “I don’t even know what to call you. Harper, I guess.” Every word cuts into him as he speaks it. The pain deepens and I move to block his exit because I need to explain this to him.

  “My name is Max,” I say.

  “Her last name is Maxwell,” Declan corrects me. “You’re Harper Sutton.”

  Admitting it is painful. “I’m Harper, but Max is a nickname. My grandma was Maxine and…” I stop short. He doesn’t care. All that matters are my lies, not my truths.

  “When?” Declan asks. “When did you become her?”

  I wish I could throw myself in his arms, force him to see that I’m the same person I’ve been since the beginning, but that girl is dead to him. I was a fantasy and now he’s woken up.

  “That first day I asked you about the Devil’s Harp account. The day before our first lunch. It’s been me since that first assignment, Dec.”

  Nothing has hurt him as much as using his nickname does. Twisting away, he tries to hide how it cuts him, but I see it, because I see him. I’ve always seen him. Why can’t he do the same for me? Why can’t he see that the only real lie is her name?

  “You ran out on your wedding,” he says as he stares out my window. “You’ve been letting everyone think you were kidnapped. You’ve lied for weeks—”

  “I had to,” I say, wishing I didn’t sound so desperate. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  The words turn him to face me as if I’ve taken him by the shoulders. Tears fill his eyes. His jaw vibrates with the broken emotion we’re both feeling.

  “What? Someone put a gun to your head and forced you to run?” The sarcasm is meant to hurt me.

  “No,” the tears are streaming down my cheeks, “but I didn’t love him. I couldn’t marry him.”

  “So break it off!” Declan’s volume rises with his frustration. “Tell him that. Walk away, but this deception, this playing with people’s lives and emotions. This is worse. Trust me, Harper, this is so much worse.”

  “I tried to break it off,” my body folds back into the couch, my face buried in my hands, “I tried so many times, but no one listened to me. My choices weren’t my own.”

  My tears erode his anger. Through the cracks in my fingers I watch his fists unclench. For a moment he even reaches out for me.

  “How long were you with him?” Declan asks me.

  “Nine years,” I say through my palms, “I told you that. They chose him, and I became his property. I was groomed to be his wife. From day one he took my freedom. No choice in hair color, that’s for Reg to decide. No choice in friends, you can have Reg’s friends. Here’s your new hobby, Harper, Reg picked it. It’ll look good on a senator’s wife.”

  The memory of our first date is probably still clear for Declan. Maybe he can see that I didn’t lie about everything, and that’s why he takes the space next to me on the couch. His weight offsets my balance, but I don’t dare fall into him, not when he’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “Nine years is a long time not to develop some kind of feelings, Harper.”

  “Please don’t call me that,” I say under my breath. “Call me Max.”

  “I can’t,” Declan says. “Max doesn’t exist.”

  Using my hands, I push to my feet and pace the floor near the kitchen. “But that’s the thing, Dec, Max does exist. Max is the me that’s been hidden beneath Harper all these years. Max has been locked up in a cage while Harper was their perfect dolly on a shelf. Max is me, more me than Harper has ever been. And no, I have no feelings for Reg. I never have. Does a prisoner love their warden? Or do they dream of the day they can be free?” He looks away but I move to catch his eye. “You did that for me. You liberated me, Declan. Can’t you see that? You woke me up. You showed me freedom.”

  “So, what was your plan?” He skips past my confession back to his unending line of questions. “Ride it out until she came back?” He looks around Indigo’s apartment for the first time. “Where is Indigo anyway? Oh gosh, you didn’t kill her, did you?”

  The cold air stings my eyes as they widen. “Kill her? Are you kidding me? No, I didn’t kill her! How can you…” My voice trails off because he’s acting like we’re strangers. “She was supposed to be gone twelve days on a vacation, but the idiot got caught selling drugs. I’ve been trying to get her back in the country for a couple weeks.”

  Defense makes his hands come up, as if he was founded in his concern that I might be homicidal. “How am I supposed to know? You showed up and turned Indigo’s whole life upside down.”

  “Her life?” I feel my anger rise once more. “Her life was a mess when I stepped into it. I’ve done more with what she was given in three weeks than she’s done in twenty-five years!”

  “But it’s her life, Harper,” Declan says. “That’s the point. It’s her life, not yours.” He stands as if he’s going to leave. “I won’t say anything. If nothing else, it’ll keep Indigo’s job safe until she gets back.”

  I should say thank you, but he’s done with me. Actually done with me. He expects me to move on, pick up a new strand somewhere else like memories of our time together won’t haunt me for the rest of my life.

  Declan passes me and his eyes wander over the apartment. Maybe he’s trying to see the line of where Indigo starts and Harpers stops, but all he sees is a half-packed bag sitting in the entry of the bedroom.

  “Are you leaving again?” he asks.

  I wish there were something more there, more than frustration, something that told me he cared that I might abandon everything here.

  “My father is coming, and I can’t be here. I was willing to stay for you, but if we’re not…” I can’t finish the sentence. “Then nothing is holding me here.”

  “So, you’ll run. Instead of facing him, facing everything you’ve done, you’ll run.” I can taste his contempt. “I don’t understand you.”

  “I’m a coward,” I tell him, because I know that’s what he’s thinking. “It’s the same reason I couldn’t tell you the truth. I’ve tried. So many times. The other night on the couch, I was trying. All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to see me, accept me for who I really am, and all I’ve ever gotten is exactly the opposite.”

  “Stay a little longer,” Declan says and hope buoys my heart. “I can’t finish Devil’s Harp on my own, and Greg will kill Bridal World. Leaving will cripple these accounts, and that’s not fair to the rest of us.”

  That tiny shred of hope is smashed by what feels like rush-hour traf
fic. He’s worried about his job. Maybe I didn’t mean what I thought I did.

  “Indigo turned witness, the U.S. Embassy is hoping to get her home soon,” I say. “I can stick out the rest of the week, but then I have to move on.”

  There’s more he wants to say, but his hand is on the doorknob and he’s pulling it open. My palm covers my mouth to try to keep my sobs from hurting him. All I want is his arms around me, and that’s all I’ll never have again.

  “Tell Rory goodbye for me,” I say as he takes his first step.

  Every single muscle in his body goes rigid. I’ve crossed a line. The door slams shut, but he’s on this side, facing me with all the anger he’s kept at bay.

  “Was this a game for you? Was this a chance to see how far you could go before you got caught? Steal an identity? Escape the elitist life that’s been thrust upon you? Is that what this was to you, Harper?”

  “No,” my voice is barely a squeak through my tears, “no it was never a game, Dec.”

  “Stop it! Stop calling me that like you’re still her!” His voice cracks as emotion drags at his voice. “You’re not Max. Max is dead. Max was a figment of my imagination.” Declan steps toward me and fear drives me back. “You made me fall in love with her! You’ve destroyed me, Harper. Is that what you wanted? Was that the plan all along? Who’s next? Is this what you’ll do for the rest of your life? Run from town to town gathering up hearts and dropping them from the sky rise just to see them splatter?” He closes the distance before me and takes my arm before I can escape. “Will I be anything to you in a week? Will I even be a memory?”

  My body is shaking because this can’t be real, this can’t be happening. Twenty-four hours before I’d finally found home and now he’s looking at me like I’m trash.

  “No,” the word is closer to a moan with the stranglehold of my devastation. “No, Declan, I’ll spend the rest of my life remembering the three weeks I spent with the man I loved and the family I thought I’d never have.”

  Declan’s eyes widen. His grip falls away and I collapse to the floor. Three steps back, then a pause. The silence is thickening. Voices gather in the hall. They’ve heard us shouting. Cops are the last thing I need tonight.

  The door opens, the chatter increases, and then it’s snuffed out as he closes the door into my life.

  Declan is gone.

  Chapter 29

  I have two days left as Indigo Maxwell. I saw her mother on the street again this morning, but I made no move to chase her. No one will listen anyway. I didn’t bother with makeup today, only sunglasses. My hair is pulled into a braid because heartbreak didn’t allow me to care. It’s weird because I look like Indigo’s mother now, not my features, those are my father’s, but everything else.

  The elevator dings and I step in. Bodies breathe behind me. Cattle stuffed into a loading dock. The silver doors slide closed until a palm slams between the crack and they pop open. Ache claws at my heart as my eyes meet Declan’s. To avoid the pain, I drop my gaze to my shoes when he takes a spot on the opposite side. I’m surprised the elevator doesn’t explode under the pressure of our tension.

  Floor by floor, we lose our companions until it’s just Declan and me. I watch the numbers tick by, praying I don’t die by the time ours comes up.

  “Did you sleep at all?” Declan’s voice breaks the uncomfortable silence.

  “No,” I admit. “Not really.”

  “Me either.”

  It’s the first civil thing he’s said to me since he found out.

  “I never meant for this to happen,” I say to the wall as our last seconds tick out. “Indigo gave me an escape route, but I wasn’t planning on finding someone like you.”

  “Sorry to ruin your plans,” Declan whispers.

  I ignore his sour attitude/ and press on. “I’m not sorry. I’d trade ten lifetimes for a chance to relive these last few weeks with you. You’re the only choice I don’t regret.”

  The door dings open. I escape to the lobby. Ashlee, the receptionist, smiles.

  “Max, your nine o’clock is early.”

  Declan’s hand grips my arm and pulls me to the wall. “Did you mean it?” He waits but sees my need for clarification. “Last night, when you said you fell in love with me. Did you mean that, or was it just another lie?”

  I can’t do this here.

  I can’t be Indigo and Max and Harper all in one body.

  “Yes,” I whisper, “I meant everything. I’ve lied about my name, and about my background, but everything else was true. Every word.” I stop myself. “Except the dog, my first pet was a pony named Cleo. Oh and the yoga, but you knew that.”

  The faintest smile tickles at his cheek. “I can let those go.”

  “Ms. Maxwell?” Ashlee tries again, but Declan isn’t through.

  “When you stayed with me, every kiss, all the moments we’ve shared, were you playing a game, or was that you?”

  “That was me,” I say through the pending tears. “That was more me than I’ve ever been. No one in the world knows me like you, Declan.”

  “Ms. Maxwell, he’s waiting.” Ashlee’s voice echoes in the back of my mind, but Declan is more important than any meeting.

  “And Rory?” Declan asks. It’s all inclusive, a question not only about my time with her, but my motives for the possible future.

  “She called me mommy at the beach.” His eyes widen so I talk faster. “I know it didn’t mean anything, that’s why I didn’t tell you, but in that moment, I’ve never wanted something so badly as I wanted that to be true.”

  Ashlee’s voice has gone plaintive. “Please Max, if you could take a second.”

  “Harper,” a new voice says behind me.

  My blood goes cold.

  He’s found me.

  My father.

  I must be pale because Declan’s arms go out to catch me, but I turn and he’s there. Montgomery Sutton, CEO of Devil’s Harp Ale. Exactly as I remember, perfectly pressed three-piece suit, gelled graying hair, and all the arrogance one man’s body can hold.

  “Hello, Father,” I say, but the fear is making my hands tremble.

  “What were you thinking?” he asks. “Climbing out the window like a convict? Do you know what you’ve put your mother through? Do you know what you cost me? Or how you’ve damaged Reg’s career? It will take weeks, maybe longer to put this all back together, and for what? A chance to slum it up with some mail boy?”

  “Excuse me?” Declan asks from behind me.

  I need to say something. I have to explain how trapped I feel under his thumb, but I feel the shackles on my wrist. It’s a matter of time before I’m Reg’s wife. They’ll parade me in front of cameras, pretend I was abducted. Someone will have to take the fall. My head is spinning. How many lives have I destroyed by climbing out that window?

  My whole body is shutting down. I can taste my fear, smell the muffin on Ashlee’s desk, feel the cold air from the empty hall. As if my mind is taking inventory of this last breath of freedom. The elevator dings and slides open.

  “You’re coming home.” My father grabs my wrist.

  “I don’t want to!” I say, surprising myself. “I want to stay here.”

  “Not possible, Harper. You’re making good on every promise. You’ll fix this mess you’ve made if it’s the last thing you do.”

  “Wait one second.” Declan catches my opposite hand. “She doesn’t want to go with you.”

  “I don’t believe anyone is talking to you,” my father snaps. “I know what’s best for Harper.”

  “Do you?” a woman’s voice chimes in as she steps from the elevator. My father’s grip on my arm drops as she strides toward him. “Montgomery Sutton, how could you do this to her?”

  Reason won’t gel in my mind as I watch Indigo’s mother walk to my father as if she knows him. That can’t be. It’s not possible.

  “Renee,” my father’s shock has faded, “we agreed a long time ago that we wouldn’t interfere with parenting choices.
”

  “But this, Monty,” Renee says, “this absolute control, it’s got to end.”

  “I don’t understand,” I whisper to myself.

  The elevator dings once more and my eyes go wide as Indigo steps from the doors.

  Declan is the first to gasp. I don’t know if it’s the fact that she’s here and not in a Mexican prison, or that without makeup, we’re nearly identical.

  “Is this?” My father asks as he points to Indigo.

  “Yes,” Renee says, “I picked up Indie last night. Thankfully, Harper put wheels in motion and got Indigo the help she needed. A little more financial help from her father and we might have a fighting chance at putting her indiscretions in the past.”

  “Father?” Indigo asks. “Dad’s dead, mom.

  My father glares at Renee. “Is that what you told her?”

  “Better than telling Harper that wretch of a woman is her mother?”

  My knees feel weak, but if I’m counting on Declan to hold me up, I’m out of luck.

  “Someone tell me what’s going on here.” Indigo feels it too. The idea is itching at the back of my mind, but it’s too impossible to believe.

  Renee turns to her daughter, “Indie, I’d like you to meet your father, Montgomery Sutton. And your twin sister, Harper Sutton.”

  Declan curses behind me, and I’m about to follow suit, but I can’t find the air to make a voice.

  “What?” Indigo asks. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know we made that deal for a reason, Renee,” my father says. “The girls were never supposed to know.”

  Renee waves him off with a gloved hand. “Well if you hadn’t smothered poor Harper into isolation they never would have. But isn’t it funny the way they found each other? Twins, drawn back together again?”

  “Twins?” I whisper, still unable to process what they’re saying.

  “Oh Harper,” Renee says as she faces me, “I’m sorry for the way I accosted you at the apartment. In a million years, I never would have thought it could be the daughter I let go. And now look at you, such a lovely woman.”