Beautiful Lies (The Beautiful Series Book 2)

by Emery Rose

  I nodded. I remembered. Farther down the beach, it was crowded with people from the hotels and condos and we wondered why everyone wanted to be on top of each other. I envisioned our strip of beach, the sand so soft and white, the sky as blue as Connor’s eyes. We’d stayed on that beach all day, our skin hot, the sea cold, and the surf wild. At night, after grabbing food in town, we’d come back and lie on the cool sand, stargazing, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Connor knew all about the stars and could trace the constellations with his fingertip.

  “When stars die, they collapse and explode, leaving a black hole behind.”

  “So, we’re all made of stardust,” I said.

  We’d reached my apartment building, but we stayed outside in the November cold and sat on my front steps, side by side, only inches apart but not touching.

  “One night I walked into the ocean,” he said, and I had the feeling I wouldn’t like this story so much. “I swam out past the breakers and the plan was to keep swimming until I got too tired to swim anymore. My arms were tired. I didn’t think I could go any farther. And I was ready to just let myself go, sink into the water. Into oblivion. But it’s the craziest thing … I heard your voice. You are loved, you said.”

  The sting of tears pricked my eyes. A hand rising from the ocean. Just one hand. A cry for help.

  “I floated on my back for a while and then somehow I made it back to the shore and lay on the sand. I watched the stars … and I thought how tiny and inconsequential we are compared to the universe. I thought about the last time we’d been in that same spot, watching them together. My girl made of stardust. And I thought about those glow-in-the-dark ones I stuck on the ceiling for Killian and how you could only see them when it got dark.”

  Tears streamed down my face and oh, my heart, it hurt.

  “And I thought maybe…just maybe…I’d be able to find my way home and back to you. I could be your Odysseus.”

  Oh, Connor. Why did you always have to break my heart? Connor wrapped his arm around me and I buried my head in his chest, my tears falling onto his leather jacket, his hand stroking my hair so gently it made me cry harder. I cried for him and for us and all that we’d lost. I didn’t even know what exactly I was crying for except that I couldn’t seem to stop.

  “Do you believe in soul mates, Connor?”

  “How could I not? I met mine when I was fourteen.”

  Ten years of memories, the good and the bad and the ugly and the beautiful, so many beautiful ones, played out like a movie in my head.

  “I’m sorry, Ava. I’m so fucking sorry. About everything.” He cradled my face in his hands and swiped away the tears and smeared makeup with his thumbs.

  “We both made mistakes, Connor. We lost our way…we took so many detours on our way back to each other. And when you got back from Miami…I wasn’t even talking to you. I was too busy convincing myself that I hated you. But it was never you I hated. It was your father and the drugs…”

  “I was the one who started doing drugs, Ava. You can’t blame that on my shitty childhood. Killian and I grew up in the same house with the same father, but he never turned to drugs.”

  “You’re not Killian. No offense to Killian…I love Killian…but you’re a lot deeper and you’re more…” I was going to say sensitive which was true, but Connor would probably put that in the same category as victim, even though it was a good quality, one of his best. I cast around for the right word. “Emotionally intelligent.”

  Connor snorted. “Where did you come up with that one, babe? One of your quizzes?”

  I rolled my eyes. I’d taken the quiz only a few days ago, not that I’d admit it now. “Whatever. Just roll with it.”

  We were silent for a few minutes and I tried to wrap my head around everything he’d told me tonight, and everything I’d learned from Keira today.

  “What happens next?” I asked, hoping he’d have some answers, hoping he’d tell me how the rest of our story would play out, but my gut told me I wouldn’t like the answer. “Will we ever get our happy ending?”

  “I have to believe that we will. Someday. But there are some things I need to do first to make this right.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Wait for me.”

  I took deep breaths, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall again. After all we’d been through, after all the stops and starts, I had really believed that this was our second chance. That we’d find a way to make it work this time.

  “Why are you pushing me away when you need me?”

  “I don’t want to be the boy hiding in the closet anymore. I don’t want to be the guy harboring secrets and lies. I want to be the man you deserve. I want to be worthy of you. I thought I was ready…for you…for us. But I still have a long way to go.”

  I fished my keys out of my bag and he followed me to my front door as I jammed my key in the lock and pushed the door open. He held it open with his hand and blocked the entrance with his body. “You’re an ass. I’ve always thought you were worthy, even when you didn’t believe it yourself. Even when I hated the things you did. Even when I left you. I never once thought you were unworthy. But it doesn’t matter how much I believe in you. You need to start believing in yourself. You’re enough, Connor. You are enough.”

  I reached up to touch his face and rested my palm on his cheekbone. He wrapped his hand around my wrist and leaned into my hand, his eyes closing briefly as he exhaled. I wasn’t stupid. I’d always known he was damaged and more than a little bit broken. I knew there was no quick fix. But I hoped that in time he would realize what I’d known all along. He was worthy. He deserved good things in his life. “I get that you feel you have to do this on your own...” I stopped myself and took a deep breath. “That’s a lie. I don’t get it. If you feel like you have something to prove, you don’t need to do it alone.” By the set of his jaw, I knew his mind was made up and there was nothing I could do or say to change it. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Just for the record, I think it’s stupid.”

  His mouth quirked in amusement. “Stupid, huh? I’m working on being your white knight.”

  “I’m not a damsel in distress and I don’t need you to save me.”

  “I know, babe, but I need to do this. For you. For myself. For us. I need to slay the dragons, or I’ll never be free.” He was asking me to try and understand. To wait for him to sort out his life.

  “When does life stop being a battle?”

  “When right wins over might.”

  I studied his face in the dim hallway light and silently wished him luck before I slipped past him into the foyer. “If you need someone to carry your sword into battle, you know where to find me.”

  “At the corner of Badass and Fun-Sized,” he called after me.

  Har har har. I flipped him the middle finger as I climbed the stairs and heard him chuckling, the door closing behind him, the locks clicking into place.

  27

  Connor

  “That smells good,” Keira said, coming into the kitchen, freshly showered, her face scrubbed clean, wearing pajama bottoms and a University of Miami sweatshirt. She pulled up a stool at the island, twisted her wet hair into a knot and secured it with the elastic on her wrist. Keira had inherited her father’s looks and her mother’s cheekbones. So sharp you could cut diamonds with them. It felt strange to have her in my space, her toiletries already cluttering my bathroom, her bags parked in my bedroom. We were strangers who shared some DNA and it hit me all over again that this girl sitting at my island was my sister. “What is it?”

  “An omelet with peppers and onions and cheese. You hungry?” I asked. Feeding her, at least, was something I could do. “You can have this one and I’ll make another one.”

  “No. Ava and I went for empanadas.”

  Keira was rail-thin, built exactly like a model. The time we’d gone out to lunch, she’d ordered a salad and overpriced water. “Did you eat the empanadas?” I asked, not sure wh
y I was concerned with her diet or anything else about her. “Because you look like you don’t eat.”

  “I eat. I was nervous with you.” My brows went up a notch. She seemed too ballsy to be nervous about anything. “I thought it was a date, okay? And I’d never…well, I’d never been on a date.”

  I turned my back to her and tended to my omelet, feeling a twinge of guilt. She’d only been nineteen at the time, but I found it hard to believe she’d never been on a date. Not for lack of offers, I was sure of that.

  “What’s the deal with you and Ava?”

  I slid the omelet onto a plate, grabbed a fork from the drawer and sat at the island across from Keira. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so I inhaled my food, not answering her question. I was acting like a dick, but Keira’s appearance hadn’t exactly been a happy surprise and I was still trying to come to terms with it.

  “My parents are in the Cayman Islands. They won’t be back until Tuesday. They don’t know I’m here. I left yesterday right after they did and drove for eighteen hours.”

  I kept eating, turning over the information she’d given me. If she’d wanted to disappear, stealing her daddy’s Porsche hadn’t been the smartest plan.

  “It’s just temporary. I won’t stay long.”

  “Judging by the shitload of bags you brought, looks like you’re planning to stay awhile.” Tate had to bring Keira’s bags over in his pickup truck. How she’d fit all that shit in the trunk of a Porsche was a mystery, but it looked as if she’d packed everything she owned. The logos on her luggage matched the ones on her purse, and I didn’t know shit about designer goods, but even I recognized Louis Vuitton.

  “I’m staying in Brooklyn. I’m not going back to Miami. I just meant that this living arrangement is temporary. Until I find a job and an apartment.”

  I shoveled the rest of the eggs into my mouth, set the plate in the sink and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Water?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  I grabbed a bottle for her, set it in front of her and leaned against the counter, giving us plenty of space and an island between us.

  “So…what do you want to know?” she asked. “Ask me anything.”

  Her face was open like she had nothing to hide. So different than my mother who was not an open book and Ronan who was a sick, twisted motherfucker. “Tell me about your parents.”

  She nodded as if she was expecting that question. “My mom hates confrontation. She doesn’t ask my dad any questions about his business because she knows she won’t like the answers.” My brows raised. Maybe Keira knew more than I’d suspected. “She adores him, and he adores her. Growing up, I sometimes felt like the third wheel. Like there wasn’t enough room for me.” She shrugged and let a curtain of hair fall over her face to mask the hurt. “Not the kind of love I want but that’s their deal.”

  “And she does whatever he says?” For some reason, I still held on to a sliver of hope that my mother…our mother…wasn’t a cold, heartless woman, all evidence to the contrary.

  “Yeah. She’s too afraid of losing him. My father isn’t very good at sharing. He thinks he owns us.”

  That didn’t surprise me. “What do you think of him?”

  “I love my dad. He was always the one I went to first when I was a kid. Out of my two parents, he was the one who made me feel the most loved,” she said. “Maybe you find that hard to believe.”

  Surprisingly, I didn’t. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that Maggie and Keira were Shaughnessy’s greatest weakness. Or that he loved them, in his own sick and twisted way, and would do anything to protect them.

  “When I was a kid, I thought my dad walked on water and my mom was the most beautiful woman in the world,” she said. “It sucks growing up and finding out that they’re human and flawed. It’s like finding out there’s no Santa Claus.”

  I wouldn’t know about that. When I was a kid, my dad had always been the bad guy and my mom had always been MIA.

  “All my life I’ve been sheltered. Imagine my surprise when I found out normal kids didn’t have a hulking dude shadowing them and reporting on their every move.” She shrugged. “It just taught me to be more resourceful,” she said, with a wicked gleam in her eye.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what being more resourceful meant in Keira Shaughnessy’s world. Those ‘hulking dudes’ probably had their hands full, looking after her.

  “Your turn. What’s your deal? For real?”

  I narrowed my eyes and ran my tongue over my lower lip, debating how much to tell her. Fuck it. New and improved Connor. No more secrets. No more lies. “I’m a recovering drug addict. Heroin.”

  She tilted her head and studied my face for a moment, not overly surprised by my admission. Like Killian, Keira had mastered the art of locking down her emotions and hiding behind a mask. “How long have you been clean?”

  “I got clean a month before I met you.”

  She arched her perfect brows. “So why were you hanging out with drug dealers in Miami?”

  “How do you know I was hanging out with drug dealers?”

  “I know a lot more than people give me credit for.”

  “Did you tell those four thugs where to find me?” I asked, watching her face. I doubted she’d give anything away, but even the best liars had tells.

  “The ones who broke into your house?”

  “They didn’t break in. They came after me.”

  She shook her head. “I never told anyone about you. At first, I was mortified that I’d gotten it so wrong. I’m usually good at reading people. I was intrigued so I might have stalked you a few times.” She shrugged. “But I’m my father’s daughter so I know when to keep my mouth shut.” She held my gaze, and I knew she was telling the truth.

  To say I trusted her was a stretch but I believed her.

  “Did my father have something to do with that?” she asked.

  “He had everything to do with that.” What the hell did I have to lose? I told her the story I’d told Ava earlier. After keeping it to myself for so long, I was singing like a canary now.

  “I wish I could say I’m surprised,” she said when I finished talking. “My father’s a prick. You must have gotten too close to something he didn’t want you to see.”

  “I tried to get too close to you and your mother.”

  She shook her head. “He wouldn’t have set you up for that. It had to be something more. My father’s moves are calculated. He doesn’t let his emotions rule his business and he keeps his life compartmentalized. He never lets his business dealings seep into his family life.” She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes narrowed, thinking. “Miami is a big city. If all you knew was his name, how did you find him?”

  I considered her question. When I’d gotten to Miami, it had taken a few days to find Shaughnessy. I was beginning to think it was a wild goose chase and that Seamus had been too drunk to know what he’d been talking about. He had let it slip that he and Ronan had grown up together in Hell’s Kitchen so I’d gone there first, trying to find out as much as I could before I headed to Miami. People either didn’t remember him or weren’t talking, although I did find out that he used to run a nightclub so that’s where I started in Miami. Gradually, my quest had changed. Instead of a son looking to reunite with his long-lost mother, I’d felt more like a private investigator trying to dig up dirt on the elusive Ronan Shaughnessy. There had been no public records, not of real estate transactions, his marriage, nothing. When you wanted information, you sought out people with loose lips. Drunks. Addicts. People looking for quick cash to fund their habits. Ironic that I was a recovering addict, fresh out of rehab, yet I got my information from a junkie.

  “It’s gonna cost ya.”

  “You haven’t told me anything yet.” I dangled the hundred-dollar bill in front of him.

  “That’s not gonna buy jack shit.”

  I pocketed the money and walked away, knowing he’d chase after me. He did. At the time, I’d
taken pride in the fact that I’d never sold information for a fix. Asshole.

  “Okay. Okay. He runs a club in South Beach.”

  “What’s the name of the club?”

  “I don’t know.” He scratched his head. “Collins Avenue. Just off Twenty-Second? Twenty-First, maybe. It’s a private club. Like a grown-up Disneyworld for rich assholes who can get whatever they want. But that ain’t how he makes his money.”

  “What’s he involved in?” I sweetened the offer with another fifty bucks to keep the guy talking. He licked his lips, thinking of what the money could buy him. A grown-up Disneyworld.

  “You name it, he’s involved in it. But nobody’s gonna do nothing about it. He’s got important people in his pocket and they’re all making a profit off the back of it.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, his eyes darting around, paranoid we’d be overheard even though I didn’t see anyone else on the beach. He was close enough that I could smell the stench of his breath as he talked. “Word on the street is that he got into bed with a drug and arms dealer. Took a cut of the profits in exchange for security. The dealer screwed him out of some money.” He held up his hands. “You didn’t hear nothing from me.”

  “What’s the dealer’s name?”

  He shook his head and pressed his lips together. “Can’t say. Why you so interested in Shaughnessy? His daughter screw you over or something?” He cackled, baring his yellow teeth.

  “He has a daughter?” I asked, stunned. “How old is she? What’s her name?”

  His eyes shifted to the left. “I’m done talking. Gimme the money.”

  I handed him the money and a pack of cinnamon gum which he tossed into the sand before he stumbled away in search of his next fix. I took deep breaths, trying to fight off the cravings, and lit a cigarette. My new addiction.

  “I asked around,” I said. That junkie hadn’t been the only one to give me information.