Page 62 of Twisted Lies

“Let’s all chill for a moment. Claire did what she thought was right. We have more information than we had before. Maybe not what we wanted, but we do have it. Let’s separate for a few and process.”

Claire leaves in a huff. Now Elijah turns his eyes toward me. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the part you played in deceit.”

“Elijah,” I start as he steps behind the desk, “she asked me to. Claire is my friend, and Rebecca is your sister. I was trying to do the right thing.”

“You were trying to do the right thing but, in the process, did the wrong thing,” he hisses in my face before leaving me alone in his office. If he expects me to chase after him, he’s got another think coming.Damn him.

* * *

I haven’t seen Elijah since the blowup. Claire is also MIA. Both of the siblings seemed to need time to process what’s been going on with Rebecca. I should have told Elijah, but I also understand where Claire is coming from, needing to speak to her sister first. I don’t know what Elijah will do when he faces his younger sister again, and neither does Claire, and that scares me. Claire not knowing is concerning. She seems to always know his next move and vice versa. It’s making him more reckless, and I worry that might cause him more harm than good. I wish Rebecca and them could talk, but based on her eyes this afternoon, talking is the last thing on her mind.

Stepping back inside the house, I start toward Elijah’s office. The door is closed, and I hear him on the phone. Sliding open the door, I step inside. He glances up but doesn’t make any motion to have me move forward. Rolling my eyes, I step deeper into the room and sit in the seat across from his desk.

“Call me when you have the information.” Elijah hangs up the call and directs his attention toward me. Based on the hard edge of his eyes, he’s still pissed. “What is it?” He practically barks the question.

“You’re being an ass,” I reply back.

“Oh well, if that’s the case, leave me to it,” he hisses.

“Claire was trying to fix things, and I was trying to help my friend.”

“Claire can’t fix this, and the sooner both of you figure that out, the better. Don’t you think I want my sister back? I do. But it’s not going to happen. The more Claire sees and talks to Rebecca, the harder it will be on her in the end,” he says, slamming a hand on the desk. “Your loyalty needs to be to me. Not my sister. If you can’t do that, tell me now. You being friends means nothing to me when it comes down to business and safety. Claire is reckless at times. Always has been. Being back here will make her more so because she feels herself returning to her old self. When she was Mia, she had to have some self-control. You know her as Mia. Leave Claire to me, or we’re all going to have issues.” He stands and moves to look out the window. “I need to be the person you call first—no one else. I need to know I can rely on you to tell me the truth. That’s the only way this relationship will ever work. If you can’t do that, then we need to go back to the contract.”

His words are like bullets to my chest. I know he’s pissed about earlier, but I hadn’t realized how mad. The part of me that is used to running away wants to tell him to return to the contract, but I push that side down.

“I can’t always promise, Elijah, because always is a long time. But I will try to be better. You’re right, Rebecca is a subject I shouldn’t get in the middle of with you and Claire. I’m sorry.” He nods but continues to look out the window. I stand and move to his side. “I’m sorry about Rebecca,” I say softly. I know he knows I’m not referencing earlier in the day. I’m talking about everything that is happening. I know he wants his sister back. It will change him if he has to be the one to deal with her.

“Me too,” he answers. “She was a very different person. I think we took her goodness for granted in a way. We just always expected it to be there, pulling us back from the dark. No one was ever worried it would pull her under. No one was here to save her.”

“There’s still a chance,” I say, stepping closer to him.

“There will always be a small chance, but I’m not going to bet on that and lose the whole pot. I can’t. There are more lives involved than ever.”

“If anyone can pull this all off, it’s you. I know you can.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He laughs.

“You should remember this moment because it may never happen again,” I state, stepping back to let him kiss me.

“You know we never got to finish our office fun that night,” he says suggestively.

Glancing down at the desk, I consider the option. “No, we didn’t. We really should.”

“I agree,” he says, kissing me once more before bending me over the desk. With the door closed to the outside world, it leaves just us at the moment. Exploring the other and leaving everything else behind but us. Everything melts away.

ChapterTwenty-Two

LILY

Wrapped in his arms, I dream of my family without the blood for the first time in years. I can feel them slipping into my dream as if they had been waiting there for years for the perfect moment.

“Lily,” Mom calls, “come here.” Her voice comes from the kitchen. I glance down at myself and note that I’m a child again, but I know it’s not correct. I know my Mom is dead in reality, and I’m long past an adult, but still, I allow myself to enjoy the dream, not wanting it to end. Instead of thinking of the reality, I enable my dream self to walk through the small home till I reach the kitchen, where she’s waiting for me with my brother covered in dough.

“Come help us with the cookies,” she says, smiling with her hand in the bowl. I want to tell her this isn’t real, but I don’t. Instead, I slide next to her, breathing in her scent. I feel her brush against me, and I revel in the closeness. My hands dig in the dough, and it feels real, as if any moment the cookies will be done, and she’ll pour us some milk. I try not to ruminate on the knowledge that this is a dream. I scoop piles out and put them on the pan.

I feel their eyes on me as I place each scoop on the pan. It is comforting knowing they’re there. Something as simple as feeling their eyes on me gives me comfort. I enjoy the moment, knowing it’s not real. Even in my subconscious, I know it isn’t real, but I enjoy it just the same. I answer as I should and act as if I were that young again. In the end, I wake with a sense of comfort that had long passed. I wake to a moment of joy wrapped in arms that give me comfort.

“How did you sleep?” he mutters, still half asleep.

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