Grand Lies (The Promise Duet Book 1)

by JC Hawke

“Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Scar!”

  “Hey! I’m just driving.” I tell her on impulse. “I’m actually in the Bentley.”

  “Mason let you drive the Bentley?” She’s shocked.

  I chuckle, wiggling my bum into the seat. “I know. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

  Her laugh echoes through the car, making me smile. “So, I wanted to know if you would do lunch with me tomorrow? Dad has a two-hour appointment which he refuses to let me go to; he’s a stubborn fool.”

  “Of course, I’d love to! How is he?”

  I mentally try to remember what classes I have tomorrow.

  “He’s good. Seems upbeat about it all. I just hope they find a transplant.”

  “A transplant?” I frown.

  “Yeah, Mason didn’t tell you?”

  “No.” I bite my bottom lip in worry.

  “Typical.” She huffs, and I hear her shuffling on the other end of the phone. “Dad needs a liver transplant, he is high on the list, though, and they think it will be within the next six months.”

  “Wow. That’s big.” My shoulders drop as disappointment floods me. Why would Mase not tell me? “What’s his appointment for tomorrow?”

  “Blood tests, I think he said. He refused to have me sit and wait the full two hours, so I said I would drop him off and meet you. If you were free.”

  Two hours for blood tests? That seems like a long time.

  I jolt forward in the seat, my body lurching into the steering wheel before it’s thrown back into the leather.

  “What? Nina? What was that noise?”

  “Oh my god!” I panic, looking over the steering wheel to see the bonnet crumpled.

  “Nina?”

  “Scarlet.”

  “No… Nina. Tell me you haven’t?”

  “Fuck, Scarlet,” I cry.

  “You haven’t, tell me you haven’t.”

  “I have.”

  “I expected worse.” Scarlet shrugs at me as the paramedic passes me a form.

  I stare down at the front of Mason’s Bentley—which is now embedded in the back of a black cab.

  Luckily it was empty and the driver is fine.

  “Worse? How does this get any worse?” My phone rings for the sixteenth time and I reject the call.

  “I will call him,” she states, pulling out her phone.

  I stare at her wide-eyed, shaking my head at her. “Scar, no!”

  “Mason. I’m with Nina.”

  I palm my forehead, wondering whether I should start running now.

  My stomach rolls as the Audi approaches, and I’m surprised I manage to stay on my feet. I can’t believe I crashed his car. His Bentley.

  My body shakes with adrenaline, and I know I’m only moments away from tears. My emotions bubble to boiling point when I see him step from the car.

  He doesn’t say a word to anyone. He strides across the asphalt, walking past the Bentley as if it’s not even there—broken.

  Jesus, I crashed his car.

  My feet leave the ground as he wraps his arms around me, shaking his head as it burrows deep into my neck. “What are you trying to do to me, Pix.”

  “I’m so sorry. Your car. I don’t know wha—”

  “The car doesn’t matter,” he says, pulling back and shaking his head. “Why didn’t you call me? It’s been over an hour since you texted me.”

  “I thought you’d be mad.”

  “Mad? I am fucking livid, Nina. All I ask is to know you are safe.” His voice shakes as his anger rises. “Why the fuck didn’t you call me before?” he bellows at Scarlet.

  “Mason, calm down,” Vinny says, stepping forward.

  “She’s fine, big brother. Just chill, okay?” Scarlet says, giving him a pointed look as her eyes dart to me.

  “Chill? I would be fucking chill if one of you bothered to call me.”

  Mase

  “Mason!” Scarlet whisper-shouts at me.

  I follow her line of sight and find Nina swiping at her tear-stained cheeks.

  Fuck.

  “Nina,” I soothe, pulling her into my arms.

  “I’m so sorry.” She sniffles into my chest, her body trembling.

  I look up to the night sky willing myself to calm down.

  She is safe.

  A paramedic approaches us and takes some papers from Nina, and he checks them over then tears off the bottom piece. “So I’m happy for you to go home and rest without needing to go to the hospital, but please call 111 if you feel any of the symptoms listed within the next forty-eight hours, okay?”

  “Yes, okay. Thank you,” Nina tells him.

  Vinny looks over at me in question, and I give him a nod. “Come on, love.”

  He wraps his arm around her and walks her to the Audi.

  “You’re sure she doesn’t need to go to hospital?” I ask the paramedic as he starts to remove his gloves.

  “The car took the brunt of the impact.” He looks at the crumpled front bumper. “She should be fine, but as I said, call if you have any concerns. She is pretty shaken up but otherwise is fit and healthy.” He nods to me before climbing into the back of the ambulance.

  I start to empty the Bentley of all my belongings before it gets towed away. Scarlet stands at my side as I open the boot.

  A suitcase stuffed full lies in the bed.

  “She said you asked her to move in.” Scarlet smiles.

  “Yeah,” I say, staring down at the small case. Does she have more than this?

  “Dad has an appointment tomorrow.”

  “Not now, Scar, please.” I look at her, running my hand down over my face. “Just not tonight.”

  “When then, Mase? You didn’t even tell Nina!”

  “Tell her what?” I frown.

  “Jesus Christ. About Dad! The transplant!”

  “I was going to.”

  She rolls her eyes, knowing I wouldn’t have. “It’s about time you started taking his health more seriously. Before it’s too late.” She stalks off towards her car, and I slam the boot.

  Nina seems to have pulled herself together once I slide into the Audi. I look to Vinny in the rearview mirror, and he gives me a warm smile that tells me she’s okay.

  “Come here,” I whisper, pulling her onto my lap and breathing her in.

  Nina

  Words aren’t needed on the elevator ride up to the penthouse. Mason’s hold on me seems to soothe the adrenaline that invades me as much as my embrace diminishes his stress.

  ‘I only ask to know that you are safe.’

  Guilt eats at me for not calling him sooner.

  “I need a shower,” I tell him, not releasing him.

  I don’t want to let him go.

  As if he understands, he takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. He pulls me into his en suite, leaning in to turn on the spray as I sit on the edge of the bath.

  “It’s late, baby. Let’s get you showered and in bed. Do you feel okay, still?”

  I nod and stand, my body aching as I go to lift my top, but he’s already there. He pulls my T-shirt up over my arms, then removes my bra.

  Leaning forward, he kisses my forehead, pausing with his lips there. “I was so fucking scared. Petrified that something had happened. I thought the worst and then Scarlet called and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel in control.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Shh,” he murmurs against my head. “It’s not your fault.”

  He reaches between us, unbuttoning my jeans and shimmying them down my legs as his lips find my neck. He moves down my body, nipping at my breasts and stomach as he lowers to his knees.

  His fingers hook into my lace underwear, and I frown as his eyes widen.

  “Nina, you’re fucking bleeding!”

  He kneels, staring at my centre, and I step back, looking down at myself. I have a small patch of blood on my underwear.

  “Oh my god! Get out!” I panic, using my hands to cover myself.

  �
��I will call an ambulance.” He stands and runs out of the bathroom.

  “What? No, wait, Mase! It’s just my period.”

  “What?” He comes back into the room with his face screwed up.

  “I’m fine. It’s just my—”

  “I heard you the first time.” He grasps the back of his neck, squeezing his eyes closed. I stand watching him, not wanting to laugh but unable to control it.

  “It’s not fucking funny, woman.”

  “Imagine if you called an ambulance.” I snort. “‘Excuse me can I get an ambulance my girlfriend got her period’.”

  His hands find his hips, his lip tipping up on one side, and it only makes me laugh harder.

  Reaching up, he grasps his T-shirt behind the neck and pulls it over his head, rendering me stupid as his solid muscles ripple with the move.

  Mother nature, you are a bitch.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Shower. Now,” he tells me, nodding towards the running water.

  “Uh, I don’t think so. Get out.”

  He ignores me, stepping into me and lifting me in his arms. He walks us into the shower with me still in my underwear, and him in his jeans.

  I’m lowered to the ground, but he keeps me close, my breasts pressed against his solid chest.

  “The T-shirt couldn’t get wet but fuck the jeans, right?” I smile, teasing him.

  “House rules. No smiling on your period.” I throw my head back and laugh, then he adds, “You know what it gets you.”

  “Okay, Bossman. No smiling.” I school my features, leaning in to kiss my beautiful man.

  His hands drift over my hips, pulling my thong down my legs. I step out of it, and he bends to pick it up, discarding it to the back of the shower. Picking up the soap, he starts to lather his hands as he rounds me.

  Starting at my back, he rubs his hands expertly into my muscles, using the soap suds to glide his hands over my pebbled skin. I moan as he reaches my mid-back, the muscles feeling tender there. He moves lower, spending time to massage each leg, not missing an inch of me.

  His front moulds to my back, and I sigh. The feel of his erection against my back makes my body hum with want and need.

  “This isn’t fair,” I moan.

  His lips fall to my neck as his large hands capture my breasts, brushing over each nipple and pulling them between his skilled fingers. He spends the most time on my breasts, growling each time I involuntarily arch back into him.

  “I love you,” he tells me, tenderly kissing my temple.

  21

  Nina

  I trudge up the studio stairs feeling awful. My back is sore—presumably from the crash, and my head pounds. Vinny stopped on the way here to get me water and paracetamol, and Mase made me promise to call if I felt off in the day.

  As I reach the top step, I spot Erin in the office looking nothing less than perfect. Rolling my eyes, I walk into the room, feeling like I have been dragged through a bush backwards. “How do you look so fresh after your flight and then a late night?” I ask, falling into the seat opposite the desk.

  “Nina, your head, what happened?” she worries, eyeing the bruise on my brow.

  “Don’t ask,” I say, shaking my head. She doesn’t need to worry about me, and I don’t need to relive the guilt of crashing Mason’s car.

  “I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s looking incredible. You never told me how big the gym was. I expected a couple of treadmills.”

  “Yeah, it’s getting there. I love it here really. Sorry, I must seem like a right grumpy cow. I got my period last night, and it’s hit me hard.”

  “Ugh, cue the car crash.” She laughs. “I’m a raving bitch on my period.”

  I laugh at the irony in her comment. “Oh, you have no idea.”

  My morning only gets worse. Both my one-on-ones were late, which now only gives me twenty minutes until my next class. I call Scarlet and tell her I can’t meet, but that the girls will be free if she still wants to do lunch.

  I am wiping down the mirrors when Erin pops her head around the door. “Oh, thank god you’ve stopped. You’re one busy lady!”

  “Don’t, I’m starved.”

  “I have half a sandwich left if you want it? Cheese and pickle.”

  “Yes! Can I? I don’t know how I will make it to five o’clock.”

  “Sure, hold up.”

  She disappears, returning seconds later with the sandwich.

  “Thank you, Erin.” I take it from her, biting into it immediately.

  She smiles, but a frown creases her brow.

  “What?” I wipe at my mouth, thinking I must have pickle there, and my cheeks heat.

  “Nothing,” she says. “Your mum called. I wrote down the number, it’s in the office. She said she has been trying to reach you, and the phone had like fifty-something messages on it.”

  “Oh, thanks, sorry about that.”

  How did she get the studio number? I haven’t answered a call from my mum in weeks, yet she rings every other day like clockwork. I promised myself I’d wait until after the showcase to deal with both my mum and my potential dad situation.

  “Don’t apologise,” she says, waving me off.

  Her eyes roam the studio, falling on the piano. She walks over to it, gliding her petite, pale hand over the top of it. An aching primal urge wracks through me, and I want to tell her not to touch it, which is odd, considering it’s hers.

  She turns to me and smiles tight. “I better get back to it.”

  “Of course. Shout if you need me.”

  She leaves the studio, closing the door behind her, and I turn back to the piano and stare at it, wondering why she has it here. Leaning in, I run my pointer over the initials I’ve traced a hundred times before. EML.

  Mase

  I need to stop allowing my friends in my office for lunch.

  And my receptionist.

  Although the bastard seems to be growing on me.

  “Oh, your poor girlfriend, it sounds petrifying,” George mutters around a mouthful of taco.

  “Fucking hell, Lowell. How much is that costing you?” Lance asks.

  I lean back in my chair, perplexed. “No idea; I don’t even want to know to be honest.”

  “And Nina, she was okay?” Charlie asks.

  “Yeah, she had a small bruise on her head, and she is sore, but otherwise okay.”

  “Jesus, mate.” Elliot shakes his head. “Good ‘I can make your head feel better sex’ though, am I right?” He grins, and I flip him off.

  “I had an accident once, Mason. I was on my way to Alton Towers and my—”

  “We don’t give a shit about your accident on the way to Alton Towers, George,” Lance tells him, cutting him off.

  Lance can be a proper prick sometimes, but he’s a solid friend. He knows more than the boys do about me, and the fact he hasn’t shared that information confirms that I can trust him. The boys would be pissed if they knew I kept things from them, Elliot especially, but some things are better for everyone left unsaid.

  “Don’t listen to Sullivan, George. What was it you were going to say?” I tell him, shaking my head at Lance with a smirk.

  “So I was on my way to Alt—”

  My phone starts to ring, cutting him off again. “Sorry, Georgie.” I accept the call and raise my phone to my ear. “Vin?”

  “Mason. Nina just called, she isn’t feeling well. Just a headache, but I’m going to go get her.”

  She still has a headache. Is that normal? “Where are you?”

  “Downstairs, about to leave.”

  I pinch my lip between my fingers, contemplating whether I can blow off my afternoon. I look to Elliot and he frowns. He’s been in almost every day for the past two weeks and I don’t feel as anxious about leaving with him here like I normally would.

  “Give me five, Vinny. I’m coming with you.”

  I hang up, standing and buttoning my suit jacket. “Sorry, boys.”

 
; Nina is waiting at the curb when we pull up at the studio. I hop out and take her bag from her.

  “Hey, baby. You look pale.”

  Her shoulders drop. “Great!”

  I lean in and kiss her forehead. “You’re still the most beautiful girl in the world, Pix.”

  She rolls her eyes and winces.

  “We’re going to the hospital, get your head checked.”

  “I agree, you’re questionable to even myself, but I don’t need my head tested,” she sasses, making me relax a little with her cheek.

  I round the car and stop to put her bag in the boot before slipping into the back seat next to her. Lifting her hand to my lips, I kiss her knuckles, and she leans back in the seat, clenching her eyes shut.

  “Just take me home, Mase. I need to sleep off my headache, and then I will be fine,” she says without opening her eyes.

  I glance at Vinny in the mirror, and he shrugs at a loss.

  Helpful. Thanks, Vin.

  Nina has been asleep for hours. I worked from her bedside, hoping she would wake up feeling better after an hour or so. She didn’t.

  After the fourth hour, I decided to go down to my gym, burning off the pent-up energy I had from being sat around. It didn’t work.

  I cooked us dinner, following a recipe from the cookbook Scar got me last Christmas—it was alright. I ate alone at my dining table, contemplating how long before I could wake her up without feeling bad.

  On the sixth hour, I watched a documentary on Bear Grylls in the jungle. The guy’s a savage.

  On the seventh hour, I Googled head injuries, and pages of information later I was adamant she was dead or dying.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I burst through the door, finding her curled on her side, sleeping peacefully.

  I can’t help myself though, placing my hand on her back to check she is in fact breathing. Letting out a sigh of relief, I remind myself never to believe everything I read on Google. With nothing else left to do, I take her small hand in mine and lay with her, hoping that she will wake up soon.