All The Ugly Things (Love and Lies Duet Book 1)

by Stacey Lynn

  She wanted to try it.

  Questions pummeled me. The desire to really understand her. To know everything and yet I couldn’t. She’d run.

  She surprised the hell out of me by saying, “I looked you up online.”

  “Yeah?” Talking about myself and my family’s business usually made me relax. I didn’t want to talk about me. I knew all about me. I wanted to know all about her instead. Every hidden thought she’d tucked away in crevices long ago.

  “You and your dad do a lot of good work.”

  “We try.” I sipped my wine. The alcohol dried my throat as it slid down.

  “And you seem like you both are too busy to stalk and torment someone like me.”

  Like me. It was the second time she’d said that phrase to me. A red hue tinged my vision that she thought of herself as someone less than.

  She was so much more. She’d survived hell and was still fighting.

  “I’ve already told you Dad liked you. He has a gift for seeing the good in people. I would think that would make you feel good.”

  “I don’t trust easily.”

  She paused, like she wanted to say more and then closed her mouth. What was she not saying?

  “What are you not asking, Lilly?”

  The first tray of desserts arrived, breaking her concentration and lifting her furrowed brows until they arched and her eyes lit with muted excitement.

  Only her eyes though. It was as though she’d gone so long without smiling, her facial muscles atrophied.

  I waited until she’d reached for a cupcake and held it in front of her. She unpeeled the paper like a dance, taking her time, savoring every moment. She lured me in with her soft expression and gentle moan of pleasure when she took her first bite.

  “It’s cherry-filled,” she said, closing her eyes. Her lashes brushed the tops of her cheeks and she licked her lips. “I almost want to take a bite of every single one to figure out which one’s my favorite.”

  “Have it your way.” I gestured toward the second tray arriving. The servers, young girls both, giggled at my statement.

  “We’ll be right out with the last one. Is there anything else we can get for you?”

  “Water for me, please, and a refill for her.”

  “Yes sir, enjoy your desserts.”

  They giggled again and left, laughing at us but that was okay.

  “They think we’re crazy,” Lilly said. After another bite of her first cupcake, she set it down and reached for another. This one was covered with a heavily swirled mound of chocolate frosting on top.

  “I don’t care what people think of me.”

  “Nice you have that option.” She bit into the second one, chocolatey crumbs gathering at the edges of her lips before she licked them away.

  I sat back and watched her, gave her time before I reached for a sliver of chocolate cake drizzled with a chocolate ganache.

  “You never asked what you were really thinking, about looking me up online.”

  “You’re not married.”

  Not at all the first thing I thought she’d mention.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I haven’t met the woman who looks at me like the way my mother looked at my father and vice versa.”

  “Oh.” Blush pooled on her cheeks and she took a drink of her water. “That’s… really sweet.”

  I took that blush as a gift. If I wasn’t so afraid of scaring her away, I’d point it out to her, tease her about it, about maybe reacting to knowing I was single—or a romantic at heart. But I didn’t. Because this was a girl with boulders built in front of her for protection, but the very idea she was happy about that was a win.

  “What else do you want to know?”

  My life was an open book thanks to the internet. I grew up on the edge of Des Moines and West Des Moines, helped my high school team to the state baseball championships three years in a row. Went to the University of Iowa, double majored in finance and economics and then went to work for my father. There were articles written about our fundraisers and our support for charities all geared toward helping the less fortunate.

  Everything about me was there for everyone to see. Thankfully, once I graduated college, my personal life was able to stay personal. And most importantly, private.

  I reveled in the delicious chocolate cake while Lilly tried a few more cupcakes before going back to the chocolate one. I liked that. That we had something in common, because even though she seemed to like the fruit filled cupcakes, chocolate was what she liked the most.

  And I loved all things chocolate.

  “What would I be doing? If I asked for help?”

  Her question came out of nowhere and my fork, filled with the last bite of cake froze halfway to my mouth. I set it down and took a glass of water to wash away my shock.

  “First, you’re not asking because we’ve already offered, you’re just accepting it. Second, that’s between you and Dad. He will want to talk with you, see what you’re interested in, what you’d be qualified for or willing to learn. It’s as easy as that. We can help get you a job, you have to be the one to earn the privilege of keeping it. And if you’d be more comfortable you can interview for whichever ones you like, see who you think you’d be more comfortable working with.”

  And if she never wanted anything more than that from us, or me, I’d have to live with seeing her every day.

  “No special treatment?”

  “None. If you can’t hack it, maybe Dad will have you try something else, but it’s his reputation on the line as much as yours. He thinks you’d be a hard worker and that you’re smart enough to handle it. He wouldn’t offer otherwise.”

  He would have helped her in some other way. Maybe waited until she graduated and talked to Ellen who he’d spoken to a few times shortly after Lilly’s release to help her get a job somewhere else. There were lots of things he could do to help her if she didn’t want to take a job with us, or if she didn’t like it.

  She tilted her head to the side and I felt the internal debate rage in her mind. Take the help or not. Trust me or not. I let her see everything except that which I was hiding, but I was good at that.

  Blinking, her expression cleared and she turned back to the dessert tray.

  Her fingers hovered over a row of cupcakes before she went to the bottom shelf and grabbed a piece of chocolate cake similar to mine.

  “I’ll consider it then.”

  It felt like the largest win I’d had in years.

  While at the same time, the largest loss.

  Once she took a job, the end of us would unravel, and we hadn’t even begun.

  10

  Lilly

  “Will you let me drive you home?”

  We were standing on the sidewalk outside Crème. I almost cried big fat alligator tears of having to leave the small dessert restaurant. It smelled like sugar and sweetness and everyone had been so kind.

  Fortunately, I held the twenty-two varieties of cakes and cupcakes we hadn’t had time to take a single bite of.

  I’d be in a sugar coma by the time I ate them all. The risk was worth it.

  They were incredible. After seven years with very few sweets, the simplest desserts left me feeling like the last two hours were heaven. For one night, the gloom of my past, the scent of prison and the clang of cells and the barking of guards had skipped town in my brain, allowing me to soak in something special.

  With a man who, if I was a different woman, would be so easy to fall in love with.

  As it was, after tonight I was having a difficult time fighting the burgeoning crush I felt for Hudson.

  He wasn’t movie-star handsome with perfect looks, but he had a ruggedness to him. His body was built and he was definitely tall, well over six feet. If I was a betting girl, I’d go all in on betting that beneath the thin sweater he wore, there’d be bricks where ab muscles should be. His hair, jet-black and swept to the side looked like he ran a hand through it through
out the day, and his perfectly groomed scruff highlighted the cut of his jaw and somehow accentuated his cheekbones.

  But it was Hudson’s eyes I liked the most. They were dark pools of emotions, lighting and darkening depending on his moods. Almost as dark as his hair, his onyx eyes were breathtaking.

  I adored those eyes, and when he set them on me all pensive-like or determined, my heart skipped a beat and then sent a trail of warmth to my lower stomach.

  Things I should definitely not be feeling around him. I didn’t know him. I definitely still didn’t trust him, although after tonight, that was starting to change.

  But there was no way I was getting in a car with him. I had to fight panic attacks even on the bus and the few times I’d taken a taxi or an Uber, I’d clung to the door handle so harshly I was surprised it didn’t break in my hand. And more than one driver had warned me not to vomit in their car when they’d caught my reflection in their rearview mirrors.

  “No thank you. I can handle the walk home.”

  In addition to the emotional ride of being in a car, there was no way I wanted him seeing where I lived. He might have attempted to treat me like I was no different than him, but the squalor of my home would shed a harsh reality on just how vastly differently we lived. Me in my Goodwill clothes, out of style and of better use in the garbage dump and him in his designer dress pants and sweater and shoes so well-shined they might have been brand new.

  We weren’t compatible, but I didn’t need him to see just how far apart we were if he hadn’t already figured it out.

  Besides, I was someone they were helping for whatever reason I was beginning to no longer care about. I wasn’t anything more than a charity-case for men who did much for charities. It was more than the sting of my pride that hated that. It was because it was him. This attractive guy who listened intently when I spoke and had already once jumped in to defend me, however unnecessary.

  “You won’t let me talk you into it, will you?” Hudson shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels.

  “Not a chance in hell. Besides.” I lifted the bag filled with cupcakes he purchased I already lost the battle on. “If I get in trouble, I can save myself with these.”

  “Lilly—” His tone sounded edged with exasperation. But he’d already spent enough money on me for the night and I didn’t need his help. Not with this.

  “If you know where I came from, then you know a walk on these streets is nothing. I can handle myself.”

  “Maybe I don’t think you should have to.”

  His words cascaded me with warmth. Hope. Something I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it came to this man who was more philanthropist than friend. “See you around, Hudson.”

  “Does that mean I can come back to the diner?”

  “No. But your dad can.”

  I was teasing him. Good Lord, I was having fun teasing this attractive man who drew my attention like my kitchen sink drew roaches.

  He feigned affront. “I like pie, too.”

  “Then tell him to buy more pieces. Goodnight.”

  I walked down Ingersoll and headed east and felt his eyes on my back until I turned the corner, at least a half-mile away.

  I was pretty sure I smiled the whole way home, muscles I hadn’t used in so long trembled from overuse. I might have even whistled a tune.

  If Candace could see me now, she’d be so damn proud. I made a mental note to write her a letter when I had the chance. She’d told me not to, to forget about her and the six years I spent inside and only look forward, but if anyone would appreciate the night I’d just had, it was her. She sometimes had desserts mailed to her, but they were hard candies because she liked more sour than sweet but that didn’t mean she didn’t adore her sugar.

  Cupcakes and cheesecakes… she’d cackle her loud, crazy laugh so loud the guards would bang on her door telling her to knock it off and then she’d laugh louder.

  Movement from the side caught me as I reached the bottom step to our building’s small stairway and thrust me into the metal railing. A blinding, white hot pain radiated down my spine.

  “Ow! What the—”

  “Shut the fuck up, cunt.” A hand slammed over my mouth. Sweaty and reeking like onions.

  I knew that smell. That voice. I gagged behind the hand and tried to swing my arm out but before I could fight back, I was yanked to the grass. With one hand covered, Manny had slid his other arm around my stomach, effectively shoving me behind a tree near the corner of our building.

  Think. Think! All of my brother’s self-defense lessons ran through my mind like scattered pieces, too jumbled for me to focus when I was still being shoved, Manny’s feet kicking at my ankles to try to trip me.

  His hand was pressed firmly to my mouth where I couldn’t bite him, only inhale the stench of his skin and his body odor that was so much worse than just onions. I gagged again behind his hand as he hissed in my ear.

  “Say anything and I’ll fucking end you. You hear me.”

  How could this be happening? And so close to home?

  I‘d survived prison. There was no way in freaking hell I wouldn’t survive this.

  No way in freaking hell.

  I fought against him but he moved too quick, getting behind me and shoving my face into the ground. Mulch pressed into my face, cutting me like paper. I flinched from the sting, cried out behind his hand from the pain burning through my knees.

  “Get off me,” I grunted behind his hand. I opened my mouth to bite him as I bucked him off my back. He was shifting, straddling me while clawing at my shirt and shoving his other hand beneath me to my stomach.

  “No.” Fire raged through me. I would not freeze to this asshole. I would not go down without a fight.

  As Manny’s filthy hand shoved higher up my stomach, I could feel him against me. My ass. Hard.

  Bile rose in my throat and I gagged, tried to puke. Perhaps that’d loosen his hold enough but my stomach was filled with sugary goodness and nothing came up.

  “That’s it,” he crooned into my neck. His chest was pressed to my back and his hand was shoving beneath my bra. “Knew you’d be a sexy fuck. You’ll give this to me, won’t you?”

  I shook my head, scraps of mulch scraping my face, embedding into my cheek. I flinched and bucked against him.

  Remember. Find your leverage and use it.

  My feet slipped on grass every time I moved but I had to do something. It just had to be done right or I’d end up worse.

  Instead of fighting against him, I gave in. My mouth went slack behind his hand and my body loosened. I stopped moving against him and even while that taste of bile in my throat was thick as sludge, I moved with him. It’d been too long… years since anyone had tried to touch me, it felt foreign, but I blocked it out.

  “There you are. Good girl.”

  I trembled from fear, but as I nodded, faking acquiescence, Manny loosened his grip on my mouth. As he slid his hand away, I leaned in closer, feigning a kiss… and then I lunged.

  He’d shifted enough, probably in an attempt to tear off my jeans, but it gave me just enough room to bolt forward to my knees, bucking him off. His hand whipped through the air and I grabbed it, biting down as hard as I could.

  “Ah. Fucking cunt!” he shouted and I didn’t see his other fist coming in my direction until it slammed into my cheeks.

  Stars sprung in my vision and tears swam in my eyes.

  “No! Get off me!” I screamed, I clawed at the ground and threw dirt and mulch and whatever I could grab behind me, hoping it’d be enough to slow him, but he came back, this time flipping me to my back with embarrassing ease. One of his hands gathered mine, shoved them to the ground above my head.

  He slapped me again on the same cheek, and my head whipped from the impact.

  “This could have been easy but I don’t mind a fighter.”

  He was sweaty. The smell of his disgusting onion breath filled my nose as his hand went to my jeans
.

  “Get off me!” I screamed again, moving and arching and flailing. I made it difficult for him and he paused only long enough to punch me in the stomach. He stole my breath and I laid there beneath him, beaten, gasping, and wheezing.

  Red filled my vision.

  I screamed again, loud and like an animal. If I couldn’t get him off me, maybe I could attract attention. From inside. From someone on the street. I screamed so loud I hoped like hell people a mile away could hear me.

  He shoved his hand to my mouth again. “Shut the fuck up, bitch.”

  Right as he finished, me glaring at him, breath finally returning to my lungs from his punch, a bright light came on.

  “Who’s out there? Get out of here before I call the cops!”

  Manny froze, glanced toward the door where he’d pulled me from and grinned down at me.

  “I’ll see you again. Soon.” He climbed off me, his threat a sickening promise I knew he’d deliver. I spit at him and missed, as he grabbed something from the ground and ran off into the dark.

  “Help. Please,” I croaked out, repeated myself and the light grew closer.

  “Who’s there—oh!”

  It was Samaya. Thank God.

  She lowered the flashlight enough I could see her face, dark skin, white and pink floral hijab wrapped around the top of her head.

  “Oh child.”

  “Not a child,” I moaned, rolling to my side. Tears and mud and blood wet my cheeks. I tried to wipe it away, but my fingers were just as bad, just as dirty.

  My entire body felt dirty.

  She reached me and fell to her knees. “You’re bleeding. Your face.”

  “I know.” Wet blood ran down my cheek into my mouth and I spit it into the grass. “I’m okay.”

  “Lilly, you are absolutely not okay.”

  Tell me about it.

  I groaned again and pushed to my knees. Every small movement sent another flood of pain down my body.

  “Let me help you up and get you inside.”

  “I can do it.”

  “Sure you can, but I don’t want you to fall. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  He’d kicked my ribs. Pretty sure that was the first jolt of pain into the railing because my side freaking killed.