Page 30 of Sweet Lies

He lies down next to me. “That’s where you’re wrong. There are lots of things between us. We both know this will never work, and you’ll hate yourself and me in the end if we try. I have enough people who hate me; I don’t need that from you as well. Let’s get this job done, then you can find a nice banker to settle down with and forget all about this life. Be free, Bec. We both know with me you would never be independent.”

He was correct: with him, I would never be free. He was too much like my brother and the rest of the family—too controlling and unrelenting. We would never be a team; it would always be him leading and me following, and I’d spent too much time in that position—I wanted something more from life. Claire was one of the few women in our world with control over her choices and she’d had to kill for it—and fight every day to keep it.

“Will you tell me about your life?” I ask, wanting to change the subject—it was making me gloomy thinking of both my old and soon-to-be life.

“It’s as you would expect. I’m hired to make problems go away, and I’m good at what I do.”

“Anyone special in your life?” I almost laugh as the words leave my lips. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with Andre after we’ve just been discussing murder. My world has flipped upside down. I push away the surprising jealousy that flares inside me at the thought he might have a girlfriend. I don’t have a claim to him and never did.

“Oh yes. A few ex-wives here and there. A couple of girlfriends. Let’s not forget the six kids.” He laughs. “Come on, Bec. It’s not like this line of work lets you have a life.”

“Your dad managed,” I point out.

“Yes, and look where that got him. Six feet under next to my mother. It’s better not to have connections. They’re only something that can be used against you in the end. That’s why when all this is over, you need to never look back.”

I know he speaks the truth. This is my chance, and I’d be a fool to pass it up. But Andre is still the one person who makes me feel as if I’m more than I am. I’ve missed that feeling and worry now that I’ve experienced it again, I’ll never be able to let it go.

He says nothing for a long time, and in that silence, I find sleep.

I dream of nothing. No men or women. No pain or suffering. Just simply nothing. If this were the last sleep I had, I could die happy knowing I’d had one true night of rest.

* * *

I wake the following morning to Andre cleaning one of his many guns. He doesn’t speak as I get out of bed and head into the bathroom to shower. Twisting the shower to the hottest viable option, I step in and let the heat overwhelm me. The spray beats into my back like scalding rain, but it feels fantastic—a true luxury. I quickly wash my hair using the hotel toiletries, ready to start the day.

Stepping out with my hair now smelling sweet, I put on the clothes that Andre left for me on the side of the bed and wrap my hair in the towel. He must have slipped out in the night to find them. There were a couple of pairs of jeans and leggings, along with a few shirts and a jacket. the biggest surprise was the two new pairs of shoes in my size.

It feels amazing to have new clothes. My hands rub against the soft red fabric on my arms, savoring the feel.

Wiping the steam from the mirror, I take in my appearance. My eyes are brighter than they were yesterday. I can see someone new in the mirror staring back at me, itching to get out and take hold. It wasn’t the old Rebecca, but neither was it the person they’d forced me to become. This was a whole new me.

It was frightening, in a sense, though it was also exciting. This Rebecca would be brave and strong. This Rebecca would take no shit from anyone and never be used by another person. This Rebecca would be something no one ever thought she could be. She would be in control but also never controlled. The world should fear this Rebecca.

Slipping on the white and blue tennis shoes, I step away and reenter the bedroom; I wait for Andre to say anything or glance in my direction, but he’s still intent on cleaning the guns.

“What’s the plan for the day?” The words fall from me as my excitement becomes overwhelming.

“We’re going to the gun range,” he says, not glancing up from the weapon.

“I know how to shoot a gun,” I point out. I grew up knowing how to; I just chose never to point it in someone’s direction.

“Remind me how many people you’ve shot to date? I seem to recall an impressive number of zero. If this is going to work, you need to practice and get used to using it as an extension of yourself. It would be best if you got comfortable using it. I won’t be here forever.”

I know he’s right, but I want to get started on the list. Now that I’m one step closer to closing this nightmare of a chapter, I need it to be done as quickly as possible. I crave it with a force I never thought possible.

“You hate it when I’m right,” he states, grinning in my direction.

I pout and respond with a roll of my eyes. “You’re never right, Andre; we just let you think you are.”

“Whatever you want to believe, princess.”

A small smile slips into place at the wordprincess. He used to call me that to get under my skin, but then it took on a different meaning between us. I let my mind wander back in time to a very different Andre and Rebecca.

“Let’s go.”

Andre’s words bring me back to the hotel room.

“If you’re ready?” he asks as I try to clear my mind.

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