Necessary Lies (Men of Phantom, #1)

by Jacki Renée

Bryan opens my door and helps me out of the truck. We’re in front of my apartment building.

  Cupping my head, he massages my temples with his thumbs while his fingers caress the hairs at the nape of my neck. “Are you okay?” he asks, genuine concern etched in his face.

  I search his eyes for a moment, take a deep breath, and nod.

  We walk the path to the stairs. He keeps his hand on the small of my back. On the landing, Bryan waits as I fumble to unlock the door and follows me inside.

  “It’ll just take me a few minutes,” I tell him and head to Kourtney’s room, leaving him in the living room staring at the shelf full of framed pictures.

  Her small suitcase is on the top shelf. I stretch on my tiptoes and reach with my right arm. Pain shoots through my shoulder and I drop my arm, grabbing it.

  Bryan stands behind me, in my personal space. I didn’t hear him come into the bedroom. He reaches over me, taking down the suitcase.

  “Thank you.” I step around him.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch him as he walks around Kourtney’s room. He pauses at the picture frame documenting her first days of school from preschool to present. His fingers brush over trophies and ribbons. He stops and reads her certificates.

  I pack an assortment of clothes and grab her teddy bear off the bed. The smile on his face is hard to miss.

  Bryan picks up Kourtney’s backpack, then taking the small suitcase and bear from my hands, he leaves the room.

  I cross the hall to my room. My movements become slow. Bryan comes in and sits on my bed, watching me underneath those long eyelashes. Images of us tangled in the sheets, doing the intimate dance of sexual pleasure, invade my imagination. I close my eyes to calm my raging hormones.

  I pack while trying not to look at him.

  Bryan takes my suitcase to the living room while I go to the bathroom for our toiletries.

  Turning on the light. The shock of seeing a familiar yet battered face staring back at me from the mirror is startling. Gone are the lustful thoughts.

  The greenish knot on my forehead and silver-dollar-sized blotch on my right cheek will be black and blue by morning. Silent tears pool in my eyes. If I had been seriously injured, what would have happened to my daughter?

  I pull the sweater over my head and let the tears fall. My right shoulder will also be black and blue in the morning.

  Movement in the mirror catches my attention. Bryan rests against the doorframe, watching me. He closes the physical distance between us in the tiny bathroom. His hands hold my waist, and I stare at our reflection as we face the mirror.

  We hold a nonverbal conversation with our eyes.

  Bryan’s lips brush the skin of my shoulder, then cheek. “I’m sorry,” he says.

  I nod.

  “Kiss me.”

  I hear the unspoken “please” in his request.

  Turning, I cup his face in my hands, pulling his lips to mine. They’re soft and the distraction I need from this evening’s event. Aches and pains forgotten. Overshadowed by the euphoric high his lips give me.

  He lifts me onto the bathroom counter, stepping between my parted thighs. Bryan slips my tank top free of my jeans. His warm fingers travel underneath and glide up my sides until he cups my bra-covered breasts.

  I break our kiss and turn my head to catch my breath. His lips find that spot behind my ear; a moan travels up my throat and passes my lips.

  I want him. Right here. But I’m not ready to take that step. The essence of my husband’s desertion is still too raw.

  “Dani?” he whispers.

  My body tenses, need replaced by heartbreaking pain. Calling me by that nickname is like ice cold water thrown on me.

  “Please stop.” I push his shoulders, overcome with the demand for him to stop touching me.

  “What’s wrong?” His eyebrows form a V.

  “I need you to stop.”

  He steps back and his hands slide down to my waist.

  “It’s late and I want to check on Kourtney.” I push him back further, sliding off the counter and picking up my sweater. I slip it over my head.

  Bryan stands in the doorway as I put toiletries in travel bags.

  I follow him out of the bathroom.

  ***

  The car ride to his house is quiet.

  “As soon as we get there, I have to take the medication.” I stare out the window at nothing in particular.

  “I was wondering how much longer you’d let yourself suffer.” He reaches across the console, squeezing my hand. “I’ll call Marie and ask her to have something ready for you as soon as we get to the house.”

  I close my eyes to block out the bright headlights of the oncoming cars.

  “Are you okay, Dani? I can stop at a drive-thru.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Why can’t I call you Dani?”

  “Because I’ve asked you not to,” I snap.

  I’m jostled against the seat belt as the truck swerves. My eyes fly open. We come to an abrupt stop on the side of the road.

  Bryan’s hand encloses both my cheeks, turning my head to force me to face him.

  “Why can’t I call you Dani?”

  I stare at him.

  The pressure of his hold tightens.

  “Why. Can’t. I. Call. You. Dani?”

  Tears pool in my eyes and I yell, “Nicknames are terms of endearment. It’s how you show someone you care about them. You don’t care, Bryan. Kourtney is the only one who gives a damn about me.”

  “I know it may not seem like it, but Kourt isn’t the only one.” His voice is soft. Tender. Persuasive. “Dani.”

  A tear escapes and is caught by his thumb. Bryan’s smile is sad.

  “Trust me, it wasn’t by choice and it hasn’t been easy for me either.” His fingers reclaim the steering wheel. He pulls back onto the road, not explaining the meaning behind those words. There was a time when I’d want to know more, but too many years have gone by.

  After we travel a few miles his voice penetrates the silence. “I’m sorry,” he says for the second time tonight.

  I twist the ring around my finger and turn my attention to the passing scenery of Boulder. The silence is deafening as we drive toward the outskirts of town. The emptiness of blind trust consumes me.

  Bryan pulls into the semicircle driveway. Willis stands on the bottom steps with a smile on his face. He opens my door and offers his hand.

  “How are you?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “Take her suitcase and bag to my room,” Bryan says as he’s rounding the front of the truck to take my hand. He guides me up the steps. “I’ve got Kourt’s.”

  “I can share a room with Kourtney.”

  “I can’t keep an eye on you if you share a room with her.”

  We stop in the foyer and Bryan helps me take off my coat.

  Marie walks down the hallway, a welcome smile on her face.

  We stop in the foyer and Bryan helps me take off my coat.

  Marie walks down the hallway, a welcome smile on her face.

  “Go on upstairs, dear,” she says. “I have the guest room prepared for you. I’ll bring your tray up.”

  “Dani’s staying in my room.”

  “I’ll bring your tray up to Bryan’s room, then.” Her Southern accent more pronounced, Marie’s voice rings of disapproval.

  “I have to check on my daughter first.”

  “I sat with her until she fell asleep.”

  Bryan takes my hand once again, leading the way upstairs. His hand is warm and has the texture of manual labor. At the landing, we turn to the right and walk down a short hallway. He opens the first bedroom door.

  Rushing to the bed, I wrap my arms around her. I feel complete. “Hello, baby.”

  The mattress dips, Bryan sits behind me.

  Kourtney’s eyes flutter open. “Hi, Mommy.” She yawns and bumps my sore shoulder as she hugs me.

  I gasp.

  “Be careful,
Kourt. Mom’s in pain.”

  “Sorry,” she says.

  “It’s okay.” I give her a gentle squeeze, then lean back to kiss her cheek. “I brought Mr. Cuddles.” Bryan hands her the teddy bear she’s slept with since she was three.

  Kourtney lies back on the pillow, yawning again. She snuggles with the bear.

  “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” I kiss her forehead. “Are you okay with the lights off?”

  She nods, her eyelids losing the fight to stay open. “Mr. Cuddles keeps the monsters away. Right, Bryan?”

  “Yes, he does,” his voice cracks.

  “Goodnight, Mommy. I love you.”

  “I love you more, sweetie.”

  “Goodnight, Kourt,” Bryan says, the tone of his voice emotional.

  We sit and watch her drift back to sleep. It feels like the most natural thing for us to do.

  “If you’re ready, I’ll show you to my room,” Bryan whispers.

  “Marie went to the trouble of preparing the guest room. I’ll feel bad if I don’t use it.” I flip the switch on the lamp. The room darkens. I follow him out, closing the door behind us.

  “Dani, I’m not walking to this side of the house every two hours. There’s a couch in my room. You can have the bed.”

  I didn’t realize how big his home was until we walked to the other side. This part of the house appears to be all his. He opens the double doors and motions for me to step in ahead of him. I enter and turn in a circle to take it all in.

  His room is the size of my entire apartment.

  The masculine bedroom has no traces of a female’s touch. His scent permeates the air.

  The custom-made bed and frame are bigger than a king and face glass doors that open to a deck.

  There’s a big fireplace and cozy sitting area.

  A big flat screen television adorns a wall in front of two reclining chairs.

  “Marie will sit with you while you eat and shower. The bathroom is through that door.” He points across the room.

  “Going back on your word?” I smirk.

  A slight bend of his knees and we’re eye-to-eye. “Oh, I want to stay and watch you shower, but I can’t promise I won’t seduce you into sleeping with me, even though I know you’re in pain and need to rest. Or, you can have your privacy and let Marie listen out for you. It’s your choice, Dani, but decide quickly. Considering how long it’s been, I will have you tonight and face the consequences in the morning.”

  The seriousness of his words is magnified by the appetite in his eyes.

  “Marie can listen out for me.”

  A knock interrupts before I give in to the sexual pull.

  Marie walks through the door carrying a lap-tray, a frown on her face. She takes in how close Bryan and I are standing.

  “I’ll wake you in two hours.” He kisses my cheek and walks out of the room, leaving the double doors open.

  “I brought you chicken stew. I hope that’s okay.”

  Marie doesn’t wait for me to reply. She walks over to the couch, setting the tray on the coffee table.

  I follow and sit down. “It’s fine, thank you.” My stomach growls before the spoon reaches my mouth.

  Marie sits at the other end and pulls knitting needles and yarn from a bag.

  I eat the stew in silence, listening to the rhythmic click of the needles and the whispered lyrics of a song she’s singing. The sound is comforting. I become entranced by the foreign words.

  It’s clear Bryan has money. His temperament hides his net worth.

  James had a millionaire’s persona yet was frugal with his money because he had so little growing up. Grocery shopping was done at different stores on sales days and with coupons for every item in the basket. Even a simple dinner and a movie date didn’t happen unless we had coupons. In high school I didn’t mind his thriftiness. We had fun finding free things to do. Before he went off to boot camp, we opened a joint savings account. We dreamed of a better life than what our childhood afforded us.

  A month after his death, a statement for a separate account came in the mail. I went to the bank to verify the six-figure balance. That same day, I found out I was pregnant.

  “Thank you again, Marie. The stew was delicious. I know it didn’t come from a can.” The fullness of my stomach after only eating half the bowl pulls me from my thoughts of the past.

  “My mother used to make it for me whenever I was under the weather.” She sets her knitting aside. Rising from the couch, Marie strokes my hair. A comforting gesture. She lifts the tray off my lap. “Go shower. I’ll turn down the bed and dim the lights.”

  I get my pajamas and toiletries from my suitcase.

  The bathroom is beyond description. An automatic soft light comes on showcasing a deep, extra-large bathtub against one wall. Adjacent is a walk-in shower room enclosed by glass walls. Paneled mirrors rise to the ceiling over the sink and oversized countertops. Next to them, a doorless walk-in storage closet. There are heated towel racks mounted by the shower and tub. When I kick off my shoes and socks, my feet are welcomed by the heated tile floor.

  His bathroom looks high tech like his office building. I don’t see knobs on the faucets.

  I strip out of my clothes, pull my hair into a bun high on top of my head, and cover it with a shower cap.

  His bathroom faces the moonlit, snow-covered Rocky Mountains. It’s a lovely sight. Calming. I set my body wash on the tile pedestal and read the options on the control panel, choosing the water temperature and low flow pressure. The water comes out hot—I don’t have to wait a few seconds for it to warm up—and it feels good on my skin.

  I could get used to this. Maybe staying here for a couple of days won’t be such a bad thing.

  I stare out at the mountains while washing my body. It’s a good thing the mountains are his backyard neighbors; otherwise anyone who uses this shower would be on full display.

  How many other women have enjoyed this view?

  Jealousy creeps into my thoughts and I wash it away. I have no right to be jealous. He’s living his life as I have mine. I step out of the shower, dry off, and quickly dress in fleece pajamas.

  A fire burns in the fireplace when I come back into the bedroom. A folded set of covers and two pillows sit in the middle of the couch.

  The bed is turned down. The lights are off and the bedroom doors are closed. Marie waits for me with a teacup in her hands, steam circling around the rim.

  “It’s a fresh jasmine and cinnamon brew. It’ll help you relax.”

  “You don’t have to stay with me,” I tell her as I climb into bed and under the covers.

  She hands me the cup and medicine bottle. “Bryan’s request, dear.”

  Marie goes back to the couch, picking up her yarn and needles.

  After a few sips I lean back, listening to the click of the wood hitting wood and Marie softly singing. I take another sip and set the cup on the nightstand, snuggling the pillow.

  Bryan’s scent is on the sheets. It’s my version of how a real man smells. Power. Strength. Spicy. Confidence. Soap. Comfort. Warmth. Sandalwood. Everything rolled up into one Mr. Tall-And-Sexy.

  ***

  Now that Dani is in bed, I turn off the camera in my room and concentrate on the video chat the five of us are on.

  “Vin, are you sure she called you Mr. Tucker? Tell us again what happened,” Chen says.

  We’re trying to figure out what triggered Dani’s aggressive attack on my friend.

  He moves the ice pack from his chin. “I got an alert from the Watcher that someone was following Danielle. Emm walked away as I was getting the details. I spotted the three of them sitting at a table. The perp was scoping her from that shoe store near the food court. I started for the store and some kid spilled a bag full of candy balls. In all the chaos, people started yelling and jumping out of the way. The perp was heading for Danielle. I was stomping balls as I rushed to head him off. I didn’t see her standing in front of me until she said, �
�stay away from me, Mr. Tucker’ and started punching me. The perp turned the other way when mall security headed toward us. Each time I waved off the guards, she got in a good punch. Man, that one to my chin floored me. It felt like a hit in the sac. Then she kicked me in the stomach. She turned around and stepped on a candy ball that rolled under her foot. I grabbed her ankle.”

  “The little boy said something bit him and that’s why he spilled the candy,” I say.

  “His mom brought him to the emergency room like you advised. He has a small puncture wound in his forearm. The perp was across the courtyard. He couldn’t have pricked the kid,” Ig says.

  “What about a dart?” I ask.

  “Sweepers didn’t find anything like that on the floor,” Tony says and moves out of view.

  “He wasn’t working alone. Have you found anything from the security footages?” I ask Vin.

  “Not yet, I’m still going through it.”

  “Bry, I’ve gone through every detail of information we have on Danielle. There’s no Tucker in the files.” Chen puts on his glasses looking at something on the left of his screen.

  Tony sits back down in front of the computer. “If we had a first name, I could run it through the database.”

  “Her reaction to Vin mirrors the fight or flight response as a result of post-traumatic stress, but we know that isn’t the case with Danielle,” Chen says. “It could be a part of Edwards’s conditioning of her. I’ll need more information to make a definite assessment.”

  An alert pops up on my screen, and a grainy airport image uploads.

  “Vin, forward the mall security footage to Tony. Guess who just cleared customs in Los Angeles and is waiting for a connecting flight to Arizona?” I say, making the image available for them to see.

  “I knew Kimberly was lying,” Ig says. “She’s helping Edwards. Are we rolling out the welcome carpet?”

  “Depends. Vin, you up for a little interrogation?” I ask.

  “I can be in the air within the hour.”

  “We’ll debrief when you get back. Hey. Don’t forget Dani’s staying in my room, so knock before you barge in.”

  “I’m dusting off my best kid’s birthday party threads.” Tony laughs.

  “Don’t go overboard. She shies away from too much flirting,” Chen warns.