Page 59 of The Truth in My Lies (Secrets of Suburbi 1)

He tilted my face back up to his. “Where, Addy?”

“In my bedroom.”

“If this doesn’t work, I’ll kill him myself.”

For the first time, I wondered if he was just one color too. Because there was darkness in his eyes. I knew better than anyone what that looked like. Ben Jones wasn’t quite as perfect as I had imagined. And that made him even more perfect for me.

Chapter 29

I stared at the dresser in my bedroom. The small camera was visible next to my jewelry box. But only because I knew it was there. No one else would ever know.

I had asked Ben to stay. It had taken every ounce of restraint

not to beg him. But he said he wanted to make sure the feed was working. Which meant he was probably watching me right now.

Like he watched the fawn. Huh. Ben had never answered my question about that. Had he gotten video footage of the fawn? Was he getting footage of me right now? I wasn’t sure how it worked. But it probably recorded everything. He’d have to sift through it and trash unimportant files.

My heart rate accelerated at the thought of him sitting at home watching me. Did he find it more fun than the deer? Animals were innocent creatures. I wasn’t. There had to be something enticing about that. Or did he just view me like an animal? Something to watch? Something to study?

I pulled my robe off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I was sitting on the bed in nothing but a short, silky nightgown. My eyes were locked on the camera. Are you watching me, Ben?

Of course he couldn’t hear my thoughts. I sighed. Why’d he have to leave? My throbbing ankle made me turn from the bed. I'd left the Advil on my nightstand. I was just about to unscrew the cap when my phone buzzed.

I lifted up my cell and smiled. Ben had texted me. I clicked on the message, forgetting about the pills.

“Go to bed, Addy.”

I turned toward the camera. “Are you watching me, Ben?” I typed out and pressed send. My heart stammered in my ribcage as I waited. But no response came. I sighed and turned the lights off, wondering if he could still see me. His binoculars had night vision. The cameras might too.

I lay down on top of the covers. My whole body felt hot. I had been so close to finally experiencing all of him tonight. He stayed after I'd told him about my husband. He stayed after I'd said I wanted to murder him. And he was watching me now. He didn’t have to admit it, I could feel it. That feeling was what was causing me to be so hot.

It may have disturbed most people, knowing that someone was watching. But I had never been most people. It was easy to fall asleep with his eyes on me. Easier than it had been in years.

***

“Always.”

I couldn’t stop staring at the text. I had woken up to those words. I had asked him if he was watching me, and he'd responded, “Always.”

There was a tightness in my chest that I couldn’t shake. My father had abandoned me. My mother never wanted me. My husband loathed me.

But Ben? I looked up at the camera mounted on the side of the cupboard. He was watching me. Always.

I felt safe. And content. Which was odd. It was a Friday morning. Normally I’d be in a frenzy cleaning. Making sure there wasn’t a thing out of place for when my husband came home. Friday’s were the worst day. But I felt cheery. I felt like singing and dancing.

My mind was clear. Everything was so freaking clear. Tonight my husband would come home and assault me. Ben would take the video footage to the police. And I’d be free.

I bit the inside of my lip. Or would I be? According to the state, I couldn’t make decisions for myself. Would they lock me up in a madhouse? Would they take me away even though my husband was so clearly the mad one?

Probably. Ugh. I pushed my bowl of cereal away.

What I needed to do was figure out how to prove I was mentally sound. Ben had come up with the idea to videotape my husband. It was a good plan. If I let him in, would he be able to figure out a plan for the second part of the problem too?

I was twisting my hands into knots on my lap. I didn’t want to go from one hell to the next. But I didn’t know if I could confide in Ben without him running away. Who wanted to be with a psychopath? That was what he had called me after hearing my murderous scheming. A psychopath.

No. I couldn’t tell Ben. The only way that the videotapes worked would be if I had an escape planned out. I’d still need to run away. It was probably easier to hide from the state than it was to hide from my husband. Surely they wouldn’t look so hard. It wasn’t like I knew any of their secrets. I had always been uninterested in history. And I was no Nicolas Cage uncovering national treasures and espionage schemes. The thought made me laugh.

Stop. Only crazy people laugh at their own jokes. Right? Or maybe only crazy people talk to themselves. I abruptly stood up. Jokes and thoughts aside, I needed an escape plan and a go-bag. Despite how silly it seemed, the rope from my bedroom window to a tree outside wasn’t the worst idea, Home Alone-esque or not. Besides, it sounded like that little boy from those movies kicked some serious butt.

---