I twist a strand of my hair around my finger. “Technically we did.”
He tugs off his beanie and rakes his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. “Are you in some kind of trouble? The detective seemed really interested in you and if I’d spent the entire night with you or if that was a lie… he seemed convinced that it was.”
I unravel the strand of hair from my finger and put my hands on my lap, stabbing my nails into my legs to channel my anxious energy there. “What did you tell him when he asked?”
He smashes his lips together. One. Two. Three seconds go by. “That you were with me all night.”
I sit up straight in the chair, freeing a trapped out a breath I was holding in my chest. “You lied for me. Why?”
“Because I care about you.” He gives a shrug, like it’s no big deal, when it is. He leans forward and rests his arms on the desk. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“I’m not buying it,” I tell him with skepticism. “You can’t care about someone you hardly know.”
“I know you better than you think,” he says, his tone carrying an underlying meaning that sends a chill up my spine. “You just don’t want to believe I do. You want to be mysterious. Want people not to see who you really are.”
I don’t like where he’s going with this. I slouch back in the chair, keeping eye contact even though I desperately want to look away. “You might think so, but you’re wrong.”
“Am I?” he mumbles to himself without taking his focus off me. He seems so undecided, so confused. “I have to ask you something and I need you to answer me truthfully.”
“What makes you think I’d lie to begin with?” Maybe he does know me better than I thought.
You might want to prepare yourself.
What does that mean?
“Because I know you do a lot,” he says straightforwardly. “But I need you not to lie this time. I need you to give me this for lying to the police to you.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I remind him. I know I should be being more cooperative, but he’s troubling me with his persistence for the truth. It worries me what he’s going to ask.
“I know you didn’t,” he replies. “But like I said, I did it because—”
“Because you care for me,” I finish for him. Is he being genuine? It seems like it, but I don’t think I’m the best judge to come to this conclusion. I can barely understand myself, let alone another person.
I place my arms on the armrests, knowing I have no choice but to let him ask his question. Whether or not I answer truthfully is an entirely different story. “What do you want to know and I’ll try my best to give you a real answer.”
You better be ready.
He seems undecided, taking a deep breath and exhaling. “I want to know whether I’m talking to Maddie right now… or Lily.”
Chapter 23
Maddie
It takes a moment for my mind to catch up with what he said. Quite honestly, I think I’m having one of my hallucinations. But as River stares at me from across the desk, waiting eagerly for a response, I realize that this is reality. That he did ask me if I was Lily. That somehow he’s discovered my alter ego that might be named after my dead sister. Perhaps he’s even met her. I can’t help but think of the man that broke into the house. He called me Lily… It didn’t sound like River, but still…
“Who’s Lily?” I play dumb, coiling a strand of my hair around my finger.
“Maddie, please don’t do that,” he says in a soft, soothing voice, which seems out of character for someone who knows about the other part of me that has killer tendencies. “Don’t go back to where we started.”
“Where we started? What start? We never had a start, River. We fooled around sometimes. That’s it.” Wow, you’re just as cruel as me. I didn’t think you had it in you. Bravo.
I can’t help but think of the memory of me cutting Lily and how she seemed proud of me when I did it. Why do you like when I’m bad?
Because it’s who you are, yet you fight it so hard. You let fear own you, so afraid of being what you are.
River blows out a frustrated breath. Seconds tick by and I veer toward hyperventilation. I need fresh air. Need to get out of here. I glance at the door, just over my shoulder, wondering if he’d chase me if I bailed. If he did, I could fight him. Hurt him. Maybe even get rid of him. It might be necessary now that he knows.
Before I can budge, he scoots back his chair to get to his feet. “That’s not true. We had a start,” he says, rounding the desk and coming up in front of me, in an intimidating manner. “The start of where you told me who you really were.”
I tip my chin up, eyes narrowed as I slant forward instead of leaning back. I won’t be afraid of him, even if he knows my dirty little secret. “I’m Maddie. That’s it. No one else.”
The corner of his lip tips up and he gives me a half smile, reaching forward and cupping my cheek. “I know that.”
“I’m not this Lily person.” I move from his touch, working to take slow, even breaths. My chest is heaving though like a volcano ready to erupt, and he notices, his attention sliding downward to my breasts. “That would make me crazy.”
He tears his gaze away from my chest, his hand following me, his finger tracing a line back and forth across my cheekbone. His sleeves are rolled up and I can see faint lines of healing wounds up his arms, probably from where I clawed him a week ago. He notices me staring at the marks and pulls his hand away from my cheek to touch them.
“That night when you came up to my office and gave me these,” he begins. “You were calling yourself Lily.”
My breath catches and I quickly clear my throat. “That’s my nickname. Sometimes I like to go by it.”
He shakes his head then drops to his knees in front of me, so we’re at eyelevel. “You told me everything. About Lily. About Maddie. How you two coexist together.” He glances down at his arms then back at me, then places his hands on top of my thighs. “This was of course after you attacked me.”
“Attacked you? I thought you said things got kinky and I got rough.”
“They did. But it started when you burst into the office, strolled up to me, and… wrapped your fingers around my neck.”
Oh my God, Lily. What the fuck did you do?
I was trying to protect us. He sees too much, but things didn’t work out how I planned.
Great job. Now he sees everything.
It was an accident.
How?
She doesn’t respond and I flick my eyes to the door again, which is wide open. All I need to do is distract him and make a run for it.
“Don’t worry,” River says, his hands clamping down on my knee, securing me in place, as if he senses my desire to flee. “You didn’t hurt me… you let go as soon as I asked you to, almost like you didn’t even realize you were doing it. Then after I got you calmed down, you told me… about who you were… about Lily.”
He’s met Lily. Actually talked to her. My lips part, then shut again. Part then shut. “I don’t even know what to say.” I’m racking my brain for a way out of this. Usually Lily takes care of this, but she’s silent, probably enjoying my uneasiness. “Why didn’t you tell me before? Why didn’t you tell me that morning when I couldn’t remember what happened the night before?” It seems suspicious that he didn’t. Most people in his situation would have—most would have reported me to the police or the nearest insane asylum. Maybe he has. Perhaps this is why he wanted me to come here. Maybe at any moment, the police are going to bust in here, handcuff me, and take me away. Lock me up.
Speaking of handcuffs, he has a pair in his top desk drawer, just in case you want to go that route, Lily whispers.
And there you are… wait, how do you know about the handcuffs?
He brought them out that night.
That doesn’t seem like River at all.
Well, maybe you don’t know him as well as you think, which is why you shouldn’t trust him.
He’s not… the man that broke into the house is he?
How the hell would I know? You think I know more than I do.
“Because I could tell you weren’t her that morning,” he answers my question and I tear my concentration from Lily and direct it on him. “And I could tell you were pretty fucking scared as it was that you couldn’t remember anything, so I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by telling you I knew about her. Multiple personalities can be tricky, especially if you don’t know about it already.” He searches my eyes, maybe for her. “But I’m guessing you do.”
I grip the edge of the seat, pierce my nails into the wood, fight not to hurt him, fight not to protect myself. “Please get out of my way so I can leave.”
He shakes his head, only getting closer to me, his warm breath caressing my flushed cheeks. “Maddie, I want to help you.” His voice conveys fervidness as he gently puts a hand on my cheek again. “There’s no need to be afraid. These kinds of things can be helped… I want to help you.”
“What are you? Some kind of psychology expert now.” I sit up straight, put my hands to his chest, and force him to move back and give me breathing room. “This isn’t a sociology study, River. I don’t want your help. I can handle it.”
“That’s not what it looks like to me.” He brushes his fingers through my damp hair and tucks a few strands behind my ear. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping very well.”
“I already told you I haven’t. But it’s normal for people to have trouble sleeping.”
“Is it…” He chews on his bottom lip, thinking. “Is it because of her?” he asks and I find myself shrugging. “Or is it because of the police? And how you are handling the thing with Bella?”
“It’s nothing. I just get restless sometimes.” I bite down on my lip until I draw blood to distract myself from the pain of thinking what I might have done to Bella and how River’s sitting here worried about me over something I may have caused. For the last six years I’ve pretty much lived in solitude with only Lily as my company and Ryland, who doesn’t ask me questions unless I offer openings. I don’t like sharing my personal life with anyone and there are reasons for that—because it’s fucking insane. Now though, well Lily’s taken it upon herself to give River an opening to ask questions. I hate her for it. And I don’t really understand why she would do it.
Why did you do it?
Accidental slipup.
“So if you were with me… Lily that night, then maybe I did have an alibi.” I look for the silver lining in this mess.
He shakes his head, pulling his hand away from my face. “What I told you about losing track of you was the truth.” He tugs his fingers through his hair and sits back on his heels, frustrated. “I mean, one minute you were there and the next you were gone. But don’t worry. Like I said, I told the police you were with me, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t get why? You could get into a lot of trouble if they catch you.”
“I know that, but I want to help you. I really, really do. And it seems like you might need my help, you’re just afraid to take it for some reason.”
“You keep saying that you want to help me, but it doesn’t make sense. No one ever wants to help.” I say it with no true meaning behind it, yet it feels like I meant it. I can’t help but think about the dreams I keep having, the times I zone off, where I’ve been locked up before for whatever reason. Maybe no one helped me when I was locked away once, but if that’s the case, then why am I free now? Who freed me? Was it Lily? Did she help me escape? But then why would my mother act like she was bad?
“I like you Maddie, even if you don’t believe so.” River’s gaze sweeps across my body, my clothes wet and clinging to my curves. “I’ve liked you from the day I ran into you outside of my AA meeting.”
I’m not sure if I’m buying what he says or not, but I want to pick his mind some more, because he seems to be my only lead to what I did that night.
“So you don’t remember me talking to anyone?” I ask as he puts his hands back on my legs again, seeming really determined to keep me in the chair. “That night, I mean. Anyone that might could give me a legit alibi, or at least help me put the pieces together.”
“Bella. Me. You talked to some of the regulars.”
I shut my eyes , take in a deep inhale and let it out slowly. “I’m not sure it’s going to look good if I was talking to Bella.” I open my eyes and try to decipher his reaction.
He seems far too calm in this particular situation. “You didn’t do anything to Bella.” He considers something with his brows furrowed, fingers massaging my legs. “She talked to a ton of people that night. And so did you,” he gestures at the window, “I watched you guys for quite a while and you talked with each other, costumers, Leon.”
“Why would I talk to Leon?” I ask curiously. “I don’t know him.”
He shrugs, his hands sliding up to the tops of my legs, making my body betray me and shiver with need. “Bella was with you. Maybe she was introducing you to him.”
“Bella was with Leon that night?” It feels vaguely familiar, but maybe I’m searching for an answer to avoid the truth. Because no matter what, I did go to Bella’s apartment. Did black out. Did wake up in a room stained with someone’s blood.
“Yeah, they talked for a little while. I saw it through the window and then they parted ways and she spent most of the night with either you or clients.” He pauses. “From what I saw, no one seemed suspicious. Including you.”
“You were watching me through the window?” I ask, looking over his shoulder at the window that gives me a great view of the room below.
Get out of here. Now.
He shrugs again, but something in his demeanor changes—grows anxious. “You told me I could watch you that night, so when I wasn’t near you, I studied you from up here.”
I don’t trust him, Lily says.
Neither do I… I want to, but I can’t.
We need a plan. To get you out of here and away from him for a while, at least until you figure some stuff out.
Yes... I guess we do… but how?
Handcuffs, she entices.
Even though it makes me feel sick to my stomach, I decide that it’s time to get the out of here and away from River without him being able to follow me and insist he’s helping me. I need to figure some stuff out before I can go around trusting people. And the route I’m going to take is definitely stemming from my bad girl side—from Lily. I think about the knife and how she convinced me to slit her wrist. Deep down, a small part of me wanted to give into her so easily, just like I’m going to do right now.
“Are you watching me now?” I ask River, gliding my hands up the front of his chest and almost smiling when he shudders under my touch.
“What do you mean?” His voice is raspy as desire blazes in his eyes. “Of course I am. You’re right in front of me.”
“Clever.” I slant toward him and he doesn’t move back.
His eyes flick to my lips. “I know.”
“I’m sure you do,” I say in my most seductive voice then move closer to him. “You sure you want to help me?”
“Positive.” He wets his lips with his tongue.
“Okay then.” I press my lips to his and give him a soft kiss.
I’m not a good girl. I don’t care what they say. This is me. This is all I can be. I can’t fight who I am anymore. I’m a bad girl. I do whatever it takes to protect myself. Be a whore. Be whatever you need to be to survive, otherwise you won’t.
River kisses me for a moment, slipping his tongue deep inside my mouth. He tastes like cherries and smells like rain. It’s delicious and intoxicating, but ends too quickly.
He pulls back, his lips leaving mine. “Maddie, just relax.” He holds me back by the shoulders. “We could go to my place and talk for a little while, if you want.”
That’s the last thing I want to do, go somewhere alone with him. So instead of responding, I
slant forward again and taste him deliberately.
“Maddie… we should… talk…” He’s reluctant at first, but then gives in, letting his arms bend and allowing my body closer to his. I kiss him, run my fingers through his hair, while his hands travel all over my body. It feels mind-numbingly good, makes me feel alive at the moment, makes it easier to push away the dirt inside me, the voice that shouts at me I’m being the whore the unknown man always told me I was. I wish it were that easy. That I could kiss him and just enjoy it, instead of worrying if I’m going to snap and kill him.
So that’s what I tell myself to get through this. That I’m doing him a favor by what I’m going to do to him. Protecting him from me. Getting to my feet, I guide him with me, making sure to keep our lips sealed as I back us around the desk, bumping into the corner and knocking over a picture on his desk. I bite at his lip then gently push him into the chair. He gazes up at me, eyes glossy, lips parting to say something. But I silence him by tugging his shirt off and discarding it to the side. My movements are reckless, rough, almost violent and it frightens me so much how I feel inside that I’m shaking. I trace my fingers up his lean muscles covered in tattoos, allowing them to slowly wander to the base of his neck, my fingertips quivering when I feel his erratic pulse. I feel him stiffen and I wonder if he’s afraid of me. But as if answering my silent question, he grabs me by the hips and jerks me forward so I land on his lap. Then he crashes his lips against mine. I slide my hands around his shoulders and to his back, scratching at his flesh, feeling something unravel inside me. I’m not Maddie at the moment. Nor Lily. I’m just a confused person who’s trying to survive the madness. Maybe that’s why I take it as far as I do. I could have just stolen the handcuffs before our clothes came off, but I don’t want to. I want to go further. I want to unfold. Shed my skin and just feel something other than fear for one goddamn moment. I want to become the person that I’m always fighting not to be. So I let him rip my clothes off and I do the same to him. Then he touches me, inside and out, his fingers wander over my nipples, my thighs, in me while he devours his lips. It feels so wrong, yet right at the same time.