Page 70 of Beautiful Lies
I found my mom and Lana at the kitchen table. Lana was in front of her laptop. She had a sales and marketing job she’d never bothered to explain, but apparently, she had flexible hours and worked from home a lot. Why was she wearing a silk blouse, skinny jeans, and stilettos to sit around in our kitchen?
“Bye Mom. Lana.”
Lana didn’t even lift her head from the laptop. My mom stood and hugged me, her arms squeezing me tight. She smelled like Coco Chanel, the perfume she’d been wearing for as long as I could remember. When she released me, I set Lana’s folded cashmere sweater on the table. It had been an oversight to turn up at the hospital in a tank top and jacket without any clothes to change into. When my mom had seen my new tattoo, I thought we’d have to rushherto the hospital for a heart attack.
“Do you need a ride to the subway?” Lana asked, surprising me.
“No. I’m good. But thanks.”
She nodded and ducked behind her laptop again, her fingers clicking on the keyboard.
“We’ll see you for Thanksgiving,” my mom said.
Ugh. Thanksgiving. Too soon for another visit with my family. I shouldn’t be so ungracious. My dad had a heart attack, for God’s sake. A reminder that my parents wouldn’t be here forever. I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “Yep.”
I exited my house and gulped in the cool, damp air as I walked to the corner. As I got closer, I slowed my steps, taking in the bruises on Connor’s face.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” I asked, confused.
“What did Jake Masters do to you?”
I averted my gaze. “I told you all about it.”
He took my hands in his and tugged me closer, looking into my eyes. I stared at the bruises on his face. “Connor…”
“Baby. Tell me what happened.”
“Did you get in a fight? Did Jake—”
Connor pressed his finger against my lips. “Tell me what he did.”
“We need to go. I have tons to do at work…”
His hands gripped my hips. My feet were off the ground and somehow, I was straddling the bike, facing him. “What are you doing?” I tried to get off the bike, but his hold on my hips tightened, keeping me in place, his eyes never leaving my face.
I fixated on a spot over his shoulder. His hand cupped my chin and he tipped my face up, forcing me to look at him. “What did he do?”
“I’m okay, Connor,” I whispered. “I put it behind me.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
I swallowed. “No.”
“Did you think it was your fault? Did you believe you did something to deserve that?”
I looked into his eyes. “Did you? Is that what you believed, growing up?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“It’s kind of the same though, isn’t it? You never did anything to deserve that treatment. It’s so much easier to believe the bad things people say than the good things. He called me a slut. And everyone believed it.”
“I didn’t. Killian didn’t.”
“I know. Because you guys… you understood how bullies operate. Better than anyone. Remember Holly?” He nodded. “We’d been friends since grade school. We used to play Barbies together, have sleepovers, share popcorn and a tray of brownies…” They all sounded like such stupid, inconsequential things but in grade school and junior high, those things had been important. “But when we got to high school and Jake started paying attention to me, everything changed. Holly and my other friends shut me out. They believed the rumors… and they talked about me behind my back. They said I’d always acted like I was better than them…” I stopped and took a deep breath, surprised that even after all these years, their words still had the power to hurt. “And I never tried to defend myself. If they wanted to believe the worst, then they weren’t really my friends. It hurt, and I felt so alone. Until you. You were the only friend I needed. You were there for me… always.”
