Page 163 of Unspoken Lies
His nose buries itself in my throat and he inhales deeply, making me shiver with a smile.
“What if she’s mad?” I ask tensely.
Emil is flying my mom to Santa Barbara instead of Portland today to surprise her. He told her that he missed her and wanted to have some time before life intruded.
While that may be true, I have no intention of stepping foot in Portland again. That’s not my home.
“Julia would never be mad that you’re alive,” Nacio breathes, wide eyed. “Why would you think that?”
“Mom was a mess after my father died, and then I essentially disappeared from her life the way he did. Alive one day, gone the next,” I explain. “Emil said she wasn’t doing well. What if she freaks out when she finds out and is upset?”
“Upset maybe, but she’s a smart woman, Rachelle. If the only way for you to be alive was to fake your death, she’ll understand,” Nacio says. “Even if it meant that she couldn’t know. It’s going to be fine. Now, turn around. Let me look at you.”
As he steps away, I make a face because I know that he’s trying to change the subject. My anxiety is high, and I can feel the tremble in my fingertips. Liliana had to do my makeup because I kept smearing it.
Turning to face him, the blue maxi dress I’m wearing moves with me. It has a high neck but is sleeveless with pockets, and the hem flirts with my ankles as I walk. My arms no longer have any signs of the scratches made from the barbed wire when I was kidnapped, and I’m grateful not to have anymore scars. Even my leg is better now.
I have Elijah’s present hidden in one of the pockets, even though my mind is racing in different directions, I’m excited to give it to him. I’m wearing the ring Jared gave me that never comes off and a pair of dangling earrings that brush my neck. Sandals are waiting for me to slip on by the door and then I’ll be ready to go.
“You look gorgeous. Elijah loves this color on you,” he says.
“Why do you think I’m wearing it?” I tease him.
“You’re taming the four beasts with but a smile and some sass,querida,” he says with a chuckle.
It doesn’t escape me that Nacio is including himself with the guys. Every day, the sexual tension builds between them, threatening to bubble over. Kisses and gropes won’t be enough soon. I can’t wait to see it explode.
“Someone has to,” Liliana says, popping her head in.
“Hola, tesoro,” Nacio says with a grin.
She’s wearing a shorter dress that’s black and fuschia and almost appears painted onto her skin. There’s a jacket effortlessly thrown over her outfit because there’s a cold front coming through today. I was a little disappointed that it wouldn’t be warmer, but we’re going to be under a tent outside.
Calvin is in charge of everything for our little family party, and he reassured us that there would be warmers underneath the tent. He made all the food as well, and told me that it’ll be tacos. He also said that he used Liliana’s recipes.
Poor Calvin, I feel bad that I went through a phase where I’d only eat if Liliana made it. My body just refused to be hungry otherwise. It’s the damndest thing.
“It’s time, Rachelle,” Liliana says. “Mr. Emil wants everyone waiting in the tent when Julia drives up.”
“Fuck,” I whisper. “Okay. I can do this, I think.”
“You told a killer that he had a tiny dick, baby,” Lili reminds me as Nacio smirks. “You can do fucking anything.”
With that very loud praise, I put on my shoes and we walk downstairs and out the back door together. Nacio drops my jean jacket over my shoulders that I forgot, then holds me close as we move toward the gorgeous white tent set up that’s overlooking the cliff side of where we live.
It’s beautiful, and there are fairy lights hung up all along the back yard. Elijah said that he just wanted us for his birthday.There’s music already playing under the tent, and the guys are talking as they have a beer together.
This is everything that our lives are meant to have. Shared milestones, enjoying each other’s company. The anxiety begins to leach away as I take a cleansing breath. Whatever will be, will be. I can’t change any of it.
I’d love to say that I’m seeing a therapist and that’s where my lighter thoughts are coming into play, but it’s not. My medication is working really well, and I’m doing the rest of the heavy lifting through journaling. The dark voices that used to drape across me like a second skin aren’t as long, and when they speak, I write them down and then process their words.
They’re less scary this way somehow than allowing them to fester and eat at me. No one thinks I’m broken or odd for still having voices occasionally, and Liliana and the guys say that everyone has an inner voice of some kind that tears them down. Mine are just louder than others.
“Happy birthday,” I tell Elijah with a grin as I wrap my arms around him. His hug feels like home and safety as he holds me, his lips finding mine to properly kiss me.
“Thank you,” he says, smiling. “How does it feel to be back from the dead?”
“Surreal,” I admit. Theo had to do some hacking into the computer files at the hospital to state that I had survived the “prank” that led to me being admitted, and then removed any signs that I was dead on the many different places that it is submitted.
