Page 19 of Twisted Lies

“Give it time. If he is lying, one of them will slip up, and we’ll take care of the problem then. Have I given you any cause to doubt me?” I ask, hoping my secrets stay buried. At least a while longer.

“You are one of my most trusted men, Kevin. Don’t make me regret taking you into the fold,” he says before waving me away, glancing back at his papers. The meeting is over. Before I fully exit, he calls after me, “There was an issue last night at Club Sin. Take care of it.”

“Yes, boss,” I respond. Connor must be pissed at me. He usually has the younger guys take care of business at the club to prove themselves. This is one of his ways to punish me for what he does not know.

My phone starts ringing as I step outside. Pulling it from my back pocket, I see the unknown number. I hold it to my ear. Silence. Holding my breath, I wait for them to speak.

“Rebecca?” Still nothing. “Rebecca, I know it’s you. Come home. Let’s talk. I…If I would have known…I would have come for you. Please, Rebecca, let’s talk.” I hate that I’m begging. Seeing her alive affects me more than I would care to admit. I never forgave myself for having to leave her behind. She ends the call. My hands tighten. Damn her. She was never the stubborn sister. She was the kind one. The one who made everyone feel better after a long night with blood staining our hands. She was the forgiving one. Or at least she was. Now…now she’s truly one of us.

The phone starts ringing once more. Another unknown number—a different number but one I know. Answering it quickly, I wait for his voice. “Won’t be long now. A few weeks tops,” the deep voice says before hanging up. At least some form of good news for the day. My smile forms as I get into my car. Soon. Soon it will be all mine again. Rebecca will come home along with Claire. Everything will be how it was meant to be. Just a few more weeks.

ChapterSeven

ELIJAH

I’m in the kitchen cutting an onion when I hear Lily come down the stairs. I can always sense when she’s near. It’s unnerving how in tune I’ve gotten with her. I had let Beth, the chef, go home for the day. Her grandmother had just been released from the hospital, and I am more than capable of making dinner. If not, there’s always take-out.

“Hey,” Lily says, entering the room.

“Hey,” I respond, not in the talking mood. The meeting with Connor weighs heavy on my mind, along with the phone call from Rebecca. I know it was her. I can feel it in my bones.

“Where’s Mia?” she asks, grabbing an apple from the nearby bowl and taking a large bite.

“She went for a drive,” I respond, not offering any more information.

She nods, looking away toward the far wall. “Can I help?” I’m assuming she’s talking about dinner and not helping me with the severe case of blue balls I get every time she’s around. I shake my head. I want her to leave me in peace. But I know as soon as she leaves, I’ll miss her presence. This thing between us is getting out of control, and I don’t do out of control. Control has always been my middle name. Even when we ran, I was in control, always thinking and planning the next step I needed to survive. I always have an answer to whatever question may be asked. Except with Lily. She seems to be able to eat away at my self-control simply by entering the room.

“You’re talkative tonight,” she points out, annoyance dripping from her tone.

My hand cuts the onion faster. “I don’t have anything to say. You asked me about Mia. I told you.” I can feel her hot glare burning into the side of my face. Trying to ignore it, I move to the next onion, moving faster this time. Quickly I cut, hoping she’ll leave. My mind wanders once more to her small, soft body as she inches closer. She’s taking my mind away from the task at hand. “Damn it,” I mutter, looking down at my finger as it starts bleeding. It wouldn’t need a stitch, but it would need more than one Band-Aid. If she hadn’t come into this room, it never would have happened. I never cut myself. Grabbing a paper towel, I wrap it around the cut, putting pressure on the wound. Quickly it seeps through, and I grab another paper towel, wrapping it around the first.

Glancing up, I see Lily’s eyes locked on my hand. “Are you okay?” I ask, concerned. Her eyes are wide and appear to be glazed over. Silence answers my question. “Lily? Are you okay?” I try, adding her name in an attempt to break her from whatever spell she has been cast into. Her eyes don’t leave my hand, and I realize she’s focused not on the wound, but on the blood.

Her lips are open, and I can hear her breath coming out fast. “You need to calm down. Everything is fine. I’ll live. Just an accident,” I say calmly. I have no idea if my words are something one should say to someone who appears to be having a panic attack or something else, but these are the words I try. Where is my sister when I need her? Calming down women is not my thing, based on Lily’s lack of response. Rushing to the fridge, I pull a bottle of water out and place it in her hand. Her fingers grasp the bottle but make no move to drink. Okay, water was a no go. My finger throbs under the paper towels.

Leaving her on the counter, I race to the bathroom and dig in the cabinet for Band-Aids. I toss the bloody towels into the trashcan, then quickly rinse out the wound and put the Band-Aids on. Thankfully, the bleeding slows down. I would need to replace the Band-Aids soon enough, but maybe with less blood around, she’ll calm down and return to the present. It’s worth a try, because the water and words did nothing. Passing guards on the way back to the kitchen, they ask with their eyes if I need help. I shake my head. Surely if I can handle every other aspect of life, I can handle this situation. Surely.

* * *

LILY

It was all his fault again,my mind yells as the past gradually fades. Why does he keep bleeding when I’m around?Why am I having a breakdown over a small cut?Okay, it wasn’t small, but it’s not like he sliced off a finger either. There’s no reason for me to have reacted the way I did. I’m losing it, and the quicker I get out of this house, the better. Kevin is trouble in more ways than one. He had walked away a few seconds ago, giving me time to try and collect my thoughts. He’s going to think I’m nuts. What story can I come up with that’s believable?

I try to slow my breathing and gain control of the emotions that still linger as the pictures from the past fade. Shutting my eyes tight, I bask in the darkness. In the darkness, there is no pain or faces. I know the moment Kevin re-enters the room. The hairs on my skin rise, and my body pulses at his closeness. Slowly, I open my eyes, allowing the light back in. The pictures of the past are replaced by the kitchen and Kevin standing in front of me, questions in his eyes. He’ll want answers. I don’t have a good one to give him.

“What just happened?” he asks, trying to hide his now bandaged hand behind his back.

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to buy a little time to find an answer he’ll accept. He gives a humorless laugh at my response.

“I mean, what just happened? You just had…I don’t even know what. A panic attack at a little blood. Why? Where did you go?” His tone leaves no room for me to believe he won’t let this go like he had with the shower incident.

“I get a little queasy around blood.” The response sounds weak even to my own ears.

“Bullshit. It was a hell of a lot more than that. Want to try a different lie this time?

Jumping from the counter, I take a step towards him, trying not to glance at his hand. “It’s not a lie.” Or at least not a full lie. I do get queasy at the sight of blood, but it’s not the whole story.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he snarls.

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