Vivid Lies

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Vivid Lies Page 12

by Alyne Robers


  I don't even know what to tell her. Kane kissed me and even though I'm pretty sure he thought I was Brooklyn, I don't think he was that upset to learn he was mistaken. If I let him, he would have tried to kiss me again. I'm not sure what that means for me.

  That is what keeps me up at night, staring at my ceiling. I always feel exhausted, yet I never can sleep. Tonight is no different while a billion questions run through my mind.

  Why didn't I make him stop? What if I had let him stay? I made him leave because that was the right thing to do. I'm really sick of always doing the right thing. I'm sick of being London. I don't want to be the responsible one with the level head. I don't want to always make the right choices.

  My phone vibrates on the night stand and the screen lights up my room. I roll over to see Kane's name. Without thought, I hit the answer button.

  "London?" he says when I fail to say anything.

  "Hey."

  "Can I see you?" he asks. His voice is low, like he's telling me a secret.

  "It's after midnight."

  "I know."

  "You can't come here. Can we go somewhere?"

  "I'll take you anywhere you want." His voice is full of promise and it gives me a chill down my spine.

  "Meet me in the garage."

  I hang up and change into jeans and a hoodie quietly with shaking hands. A nervous energy that I'm not used to is coursing through my body. My stomach is in knots from excitement. Or is it fear? I tiptoe down the hall, careful not to wake Brooklyn. I can't believe I'm actually doing this.

  I am sneaking out of my own apartment in the middle of the night. I feel like a teenager, but I never did this when I was young. Brooklyn was the one crawling out of our second floor window to go to a party or to see a boy. I hid in bed and prayed our dad wouldn't come in to find her gone. He never cared enough to actually check.

  My footsteps echo in the empty garage. The streets are quiet and I feel like I'm the only person awake. Awake with Kane. He's leaning against his car, waiting for me, and my stomach flutters with nerves. It's not like me to sneak out to meet guys in the middle of the night. I have no idea where the courage to do it now is coming from, but I'll take what I can.

  "Where to?" he asks when I approach, opening the door for me.

  Once Kane is behind the wheel, I start to give him directions. Other than my vague directions, we don't speak. My hands are clammy and my heart is pounding so loudly, I wonder if he can hear it. If he can, he doesn't mention it but follows my directions.

  "Stop here," I tell him.

  "Here? There's nothing here."

  "Pull over right here."

  Kane pulls off to the side of the road where I point. There's nothing around but open road and the guardrail on the side. A lonely speed limit sign is the only marker.

  This is my spot. Lately, the need to have something that is my own has been eating me alive. I never had anything of my own. If it's in the apartment, it's ours. At times, it seems Brooklyn can read my emotions and my thoughts, so even those aren't mine.

  This place is all mine because she doesn't know about it. Just a lonely stretch of the interstate leading away from the city. She would never want it. She wouldn't see the significance in something so simple. It's special because it's my secret. And now I'm letting Kane in.

  I get out of his car and I hear Kane following. The night air is humid, and I feel the heat still coming off the blacktop from the summer day. The stars are bright above and the moon is the only light I have out here. Far away from the city, it's dark and quiet. It's perfect.

  I stop in the middle of the road, right on the dotted line. After looking both ways, I lie down in the middle of the road. I spread my arms and legs, and look up at the sky. I listen to the wind and crickets in the night. Most of all, I listen for the sound of an approaching car.

  "London, get up," Kane says. "You can't lie down in the middle of the road."

  "Why not? Do you see a car?"

  Kane looks both ways twice before looking back at me in disbelief.

  "Seriously?"

  "Seriously. Come on."

  Kane shakes his head but comes and lies next to me. His fingers brush mine but neither of us pull our hands away.

  "I come here a lot," I tell him.

  "And you've survived?"

  I laugh. "I never take risks. I always take the safe route, the right route. I never get to head into danger and hope that I jump out of the way in time."

  "That's what you're doing here?"

  "Yes. Because here, no one is relying on me, depending on me, or even knows that I'm here. I choose to run when I want to. I make choices just for me."

  I listen to the silence and close my eyes. When I concentrate on waiting for the sound of cars, I don't think about anything else. Instead, I'm free and wild. The person I never could be. Someone I can't be when I'm at home.

  "I chose to run away. As a grown adult, we had to run away from our father because that was the only way to get out of his way. We'd never been out of Tennessee before we moved here."

  "Why did you leave?" Kane asks. It's a question I have expertly avoided every time someone asks. I'm sick of lying and pretending.

  "Dad was sick. When our mom died, he came home with two twin babies and had no idea how to raise them. Instead, he drank himself numb. We raised ourselves, and raised a grown man."

  "You couldn't just move out?"

  "You would think," I say with a sigh. "To move meant to abandon a man who needed his family. No one knew about the nights he came home, throwing hateful words or his fists. We loved him, but we suffered our whole lives for him until the moment it wasn't worth it anymore. I had to save us."

  Kane closes the inch between our hands and intertwines our fingers. I feel grounded and solid in his tight hold. Protected for once without protecting myself. The hum of tires echoes in the distance. Kane squeezes my fingers and starts to move but I tug him back.

  "Not yet," I tell him.

  "London, come on," he says, looking past me toward the sound.

  "We have time."

  Kane is tense but he waits, holding my hand. The hum gets louder and the headlights bounce on the nearby trees. The buzz of the engine comes just before the headlights land on our bodies.

  "Now!" I shout and we jump to our feet.

  Kane pulls me to him on the side of the road and I slam into his chest. I'm breathless from laughing and holding my breath. His laughter floats over me as the car speeds past us.

  "That was fucking crazy," he says. "Totally nuts."

  I smile up at him, feeling a rush of excitement that lights every inch of me on fire. I feel alive and real in this moment and not just skating by and trying to survive.

  "You are beautiful when you smile like that," Kane says, his laughter dying.

  Mine dies too when I see the look on his dark face. Even in the shadows, I see the way his eyes are wide and drinking me in. Kane is seeing the part of me I've been hiding from everyone around me. It's another secret.

  This space is nothing but a section of road, like the rest of it. But here, I hold secrets and half-truths. Lies. Things my sister doesn't know.

  Here is a part of me I keep inside, the part that wants to live and take risks like Brooklyn gets to. Here, I hide a moment with Kane. The moment itself is just as much a secret as the part of him she doesn't know. It's a side of himself he never gave to Brooklyn.

  "One more time," I beg, pulling Kane to the center of the road again. I'm not ready for this high to end yet.

  I don't want to talk. I don't want to think tonight. I just want to feel. My heart wants to race and my stomach wants to do flips. My skin wants to break out in goosebumps.

  With our backs on the warm asphalt, I fidget with unrestrained energy. The adrenaline and excitement buzzes through my veins. Kane's body is warm so close to mine. It's dangerous and forbidden.

  A buzz echoes in the darkness. The hum of tires and the faint bump of their loud music. The light
starts dim then brightens as the car speeds toward us. We have more time and I count down in my head.

  Kane moves first, but not to get up and run for safety. He hoovers over me briefly before leaning down to kiss me. It's hard and on purpose this time. There is no doubt in my mind that Kane knows exactly what he is doing. I almost forget about the car until the blaring sound of the horn rings in my ear. The headlights shine in my face as the car stops to beep at us.

  Kane doesn't stop kissing me. Instead he kisses me harder, holding me to the ground with the power in his lips and a firm hand on my hip. I'm vibrating under his body, heating up and melting. I vaguely realize the car is moving around us, whistling and calling out to us.

  Already so reckless and abandoning any control, I kiss Kane back with equal force. A satisfied and victorious groan rumbles through him and into me. The hand on my hip skates up my ribs, under my shirt. Skin to skin. Fire to fire.

  I arch into him, loving how every cell in my body is reacting to his touch. I feel like this is the sensation that I have been chasing but never catching. I have watched and heard of people going out of control with lust and want, but never could understand it. I saw emotion in lovers' eyes that I couldn't quite read or relate to. I felt like a child on the other side of a glass window, looking in on a world too much for me to experience.

  My shaking fingers grab at hair and my leg bends to let Kane get closer. I'm moving and reacting on instinct. That little voice that never shuts up is blissfully silent. She's not reminding me that Kane was involved with my sister. She's not warning me that Kane walks away, never giving enough. She's mute, letting me do what I always wanted to.

  Flashing lights up my closed eyelids. When Kane slowly pulls away, I reluctantly open them. He stills looks down at me, lips swollen and eyes wild. Red and blue flashes across our bodies, the sound of a running car nearby.

  "Kids," a voice calls, flashing a light over us. "I'm going to need you to get out of the middle of the road."

  I can't help it. I giggle and bury my face in Kane's neck. His body shakes with laughter over mine and my face heats even more.

  "I'm sorry sir," Kane says politely, barely holding back his laugh. "We're going."

  Kane hoists me to my feet. I keep my face down and use him as a shield. I'm embarrassed but not ashamed.

  "You guys could have been killed. Take your girlfriend and do it in a car or something," the cop says, amusement thick in his voice.

  "Sorry, officer," we say in unison.

  Laughing, Kane pulls me back to the car. We pull out and head back to town, the cop behind us most of the way. I can't fight the stupid grin on my face the entire drive. Like a kid who got away with something bad.

  "You're a bad influence," Kane teases as we pull into the garage.

  "Hey, I was going to jump out of the way. It was you who got us into trouble."

  "You didn't stop me," he says. His voice lost the lightness and turned serious.

  "No, I didn't."

  Kane parks and shuts off the car. I'm back home. Back to being London and everything that comes with being that part of the package.

  "Why didn't you stop me?"

  I get the feeling he's not just asking about tonight. I heard his question before. I never stopped him when he kissed me the other day. This was one very wrong thing I continued to allow. Maybe even before the kiss, when we spent time together. The marina or even dancing at the bar. Tonight I let him in on something secret and intimate.

  "I can't seem to push you away even though I should," I admit. As much as I shouldn't, I like the way he makes me feel.

  Kane looks over at me, letting my words sink in. I wonder what he thinks of me. Kissing the man her sister has slept with?

  "I'm not sure I want you to."

  I silently slip back into my own apartment, obsessing over the way Kane touched me, kissed me, spoke to me. To me, he is the ultimate rush. It's that passion and reckless abandon that I've always dreamed of.

  It's not until I'm in the bed and alone that the guilt and doubt crash into me.

  TWENTY

  Brooklyn

  If London doesn't want to clean, then fine. I can clean. I'm a big girl. I know how to do the dishes even though I rarely do them.

  I spend the day cleaning with angry and quick motions. Irritated is putting it mildly. My sister and I never fight. If she wasn't so busy avoiding me then this would be one of those rare arguments.

  I'm not even sure what I would say to her. Bitch that she stopped cleaning up after me? As unfair as it is, it doesn't do anything to cool my anger. I never claimed to be rational and level-headed.

  The kitchen is eventually as clean as it is going to get. The tiles and countertop are stained from decades of neglect and use. They will never look pristine but the room doesn't look like teenage boys live here, so I'm pleased. I fill a hamper with clothes from the floor. I don't even know what is clean or dirty, but I don't care anymore.

  Cursing to myself, I drag the heavy hamper to the door and swing it open.

  "Shit," I say as soon as I see the person in the hallway.

  Kane stops walking when he hears me and raises an eyebrow at me as he looks down at my clothes. I'm wearing a ratty shirt and torn jeans. My hair is piled up in a messy bun on the top of my head and I'm not wearing any makeup.

  "Nice to see you too," he says in an even tone. I can't tell if he's bored or annoyed.

  "No offense, but you are kinda the last person I want to see to today."

  "Just because you say 'no offense' doesn't automatically make it not offensive."

  I sigh and roll my eyes. A week or two ago, this banter would be cute and fun. Today, I'm aggravated and all out of fucks to give.

  "Do you want help with that?" Kane asks, pointing to the heavy bag I'm trying to drag through the door. He looks like that is the last thing he actually wants to be doing.

  "I got it."

  Kane ignores me and takes the handle from me, walking down the hall. I gape at him with a mixture of anger and shock before I chase after him.

  "You have a serious issue with following orders, don't you?" I grumble as I catch up.

  Kane gives me a sideways glance but otherwise ignores my childish pouting. He calls the elevator and drags my hamper in like it's empty. I glare at the heavy beast like it betrayed me. Stupid thing making me look weak and helpless.

  "Just because we stopped fucking doesn't mean we have to bite each other's heads off every time we see each other," he says as the elevator makes its shaky descent.

  I stomp through the lobby with Kane following like the helpful neighbor he is. I don't have middle grounds. I either adore you or I hate you. There's nothing in between for me. Civil? Lukewarm? You want that, you find my sister. She can do indifference and passive-aggressive.

  I find the laundry room that I had only seen once on the tour when we signed the lease. It's ancient and dirty like the rest of the building. The four machines lined up look older than me, but hopefully they work.

  "You have done laundry before, right?"

  "Fuck you," I say as I yank the clothes from Kane.

  I throw open the lid of one of the washers, the metal clanging loudly in the small room. I toss clothes in, too pissed to sort them or check care labels. If London wanted them done right then she should have done them. I pour a random amount of soap in, insert quarters and start the machine. My skin prickles when I realize Kane is still here.

  "What?" I snap. I'm hot and tired. I had spent the whole day bottling up my frustration and it's ready to be released on the closest person right now.

  "You were the one to end things, so I'm not sure where the attitude is coming from."

  I scoff in disbelief. I feel myself reaching irrational and uncontrolled anger. Kane is pushing every sore button, begging for a reaction.

  "You made me break it off with you," I shout, pointing a trembling finger at him. "You broke the rules. You pushed. You went too far."

  Kane's jaw is ti
ght as I jab my finger in his chest. His entire body tenses as I glare up at him.

  "Is that so? You mean when I got pissed you were all over some other asshole right in front of me?"

  "You had no right to be pissed."

  "Girlfriend or not, it was disrespectful. I never wanted your love, but I expected that if I was fucking you until you could barely walk that I was the only one fucking you."

  His voice is low and dangerous. His words sting for some reason. It was never about him having feelings about me, it was still about the sex. I fooled myself into thinking I was special somehow to him, whether I wanted it or not. I don't like the disappointment I am trying to bury.

  "Fucking courtesy."

  That smacks me out of my own self-pity. The whole point is to avoid being hurt and I won't let it happen now.

  "You want polite? You want courtesy? Then find my sister. She's the nice one. The one with a heart."

  Kane steps back, seemingly disturbed or shocked by my words. Maybe now he sees how very closed off I am. Feeling like I have the upper hand back, I push past him and back up to the apartment.

  I'm practically breathing fire when I slam the door behind me. London is standing in the living room, looking around like she might be lost.

  "You cleaned? It looks good."

  "Yes, I fucking cleaned. Do me a favor, London. If you want to go on strike because you're pissed at me then just say so. Don't be a wimp and avoid me until I get the hint. Tell me what the hell you want me to do!"

  London stares at me in shock while I pant in the doorway, fists clenched at my side. I watch as confusion, anger and then understanding wash over her pretty face.

  "I am sick of being the responsible one. I don't want to be the one who needs to clean, pay the bills, and make sure we survive. If one more ounce is put on my shoulders I will break, Brooklyn." The words come pouring out of her quickly, like she couldn't hold them in any longer.

 

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