Pretty Little Lies (Lie #2)
He moved over to me and sat beside me on the bed. I didn’t want him touching me but willed myself not to flinch as he stroked a finger over my cheek. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“Please, E, I would feel horrible and couldn’t rest if I kept you from your family. Please, come back in a few hours then we can go tell them about the baby.”
That seemed to pacify him. He nodded before lightly kissing my forehead. He got up without another word and turned off the lights. Before he walked out the door, he turned back to look at me. It took everything in me not to bust out in tears. There was no doubt in my mind I would never lay eyes on his all-too-perfect face again.
Ethan
I pushed the plate across the dinner table. Sitting in my sister’s house, it was hard not to throw a fist into Victoria’s face. I’d never thought of being violent with a woman before, but Victoria was no woman. Something in the back of my mind kept nagging me . . . telling me Victoria had said something to Dylan. She declared she was only feeling bad but I had an uneasiness about leaving her alone. I had to come back though to make sure Victoria and Brandon had no plans to hurt Dylan farther. They seemed innocent enough.
As always, mom sensed my mood, and she signed that I needed to go. Dylan was where I belonged. It didn’t take another word from anybody. I grabbed my coat and left without a word. I raced through the city streets, and the closer I got, the more the last look she gave me played over and over in my head. The fear that Dylan had run was terrifying.
I didn’t even shut the car door. I stalked past the doorman and skipped the elevator, taking the stairs two at a time before breaking into a run. Yanking open the door, the silence that met me was unbearable. At first, I didn’t panic. I started calling out her name. I knocked on the bathroom door. The door opened a bit. I heard no movement, but I still said her name. “Dylan, Privy.”
I opened the door wider, revealing what I already expected, an empty and dark room. I screamed out her name as my knees buckled under me. I slipped my cellphone out of my coat pocket and called her. Her phone rang on the bed. I glanced over at it and saw a note laying under it. I jerked the note into my grasp.
I never meant to hurt anyone, and I’m sorry for any pain I might have caused your family. I will always love you, Dylan
I gripped the phone off the bedside table, and called the front desk. They had no problem informing me that the woman occupant of the room left in a cab about thirty minutes earlier. She was gone. The day had turned into a fucking disaster. I could still see her small impression on the bed from where she had lain.
I got up and picked up the pillow she’d been sleeping on. The smell of Dylan hit me. A sob broke free and slithered down my face. I didn’t even try to stop them. I deserved every last one of them. I knew in my heart that she was hurting and I left her again. I had to stop and grit my teeth through the tears. She was apologizing for hurting my damn family. She was incapable of hurting anybody. My sweet angel was the one who had been hurt. I wadded up and chunked that fucking letter across the room. I had only left her alone for a mere two hours. Surely, she had not gone far.
I stood up and placed the pillow back on the bed. I was going to find her. I don’t know how I found myself back at my sister’s house, but I knew I made it in record time. I walked through the front door and dropped my keys and coat onto the floor. “She’s gone,” slipped from my lips.
I searched the room for Brandon and Victoria as a blind rage began to take over my system. There was no sign of them anywhere. I started toward the backyard, determined to find them. “Where is my bastard of a brother and that bitch?”
“Ethan, calm down. What happen?” Charlie asked from behind me.
Without thinking, I flipped around and swung, thankfully missing Charlie’s face.
My dad wrapped his arms around mine at the elbows. “Calm the fuck down,” he demanded. “What’s going on?”
I couldn’t talk. I squirmed out of my dad’s arms and picked up the first thing my hands touched, and launched it across the room. Turning, I saw the couch she had cuddle in my arms on. I shoved it, flipping it on its side. I stormed outside, insane with rage. I stood on the deck and willed myself to calm down. I pushed my fingers through my hair. I’d lost everything. Dylan was gone, and I had no idea what caused her to run. I noticed a glass sitting on the table. It had a vibrant shade of red lipstick smudged on it. It had to be Victoria’s. No one else there would have worn that tacky of a shade. I picked up the cold glass and threw it across the deck. It made contact with the back of the house and shattered. My chest heaved. My mom opened the backdoor. I held up a finger to keep her away. My control was so far out of reach at that point, I was scared I might hurt her.
“E,” she whispered. “Talk to me. I want to help,” she signed.
I pushed her back, slammed the door shut, and started to kick it over and over again until my foot had kicked a hole in the bottom.
Charlie rushed around to the back of the house and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Stop! You’re only hurting Kristina and Helen at this point.”
I let my hands fall to my side. Despite it being one of the coldest days in March, I was dripping in sweat. I slouched down in a nearby lawn chair and closed my eyes. My hands shook as I brought them to my face. Salty tears stung my eyes.
“I hope you’re happy. Your mom is crying,” Dad said as he stepped out onto the deck.
I shook my head. “I never meant to upset her,” I said. “You have to believe that.”
“I do but you need to explain yourself.”
I threw my hands up in the air before letting them fall back in my lap. “She’s pregnant.”
My dad’s number one priority had always been his family. I wanted him to see if I lose Dylan not only have I lost everything, but he loses something too . . . another grandchild.
Dad looked as confused as I felt. He sat across the table from me and folded his arms across his chest. “Is it yours?”
I jumped to my feet and had my finger rammed in his face. It was the first time in my life I had confronted my father. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you, and still don’t, but if you ever imply that the child she is carrying is not mine, I will.”
Dad shook his head, unsure of what I was capable of doing. I fell back in my seat and used the collar on my shirt to pinch the moisture from my nose. “It’s a girl.” I stared down at my feet, wondering what to do. “Dad, help me please.”
He reached across the table and gripped my forearm. “We’ll figure it out, son.”
I had no choice but to find her. She was going through something, and I would never allow her to handle life alone again. I’d find her and beg. Whatever I needed to do so she would let me in again, I would. Then I’d never leave her again . . . for any reason.
Dylan
“You’re room is this way,” a kindly, older lady, Jane, said as she started to walk up a set of metal steps outside a run-down apartment building. “We do laundry on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Breakfast is served at eight sharp, lunch is at noon, and dinner is at six. If you need anything, James the handyman’s number is taped to the top of the phone on your breakfast bar.”
I looked around, catching a glimpse of three pregnant women lying out by the pool and another one sitting on a small patio outside her front door. It was nice to know I would have support and be able to gain strength from other women going through the same thing.
I had been so relieved when I’d stepped off the plane in that dinky, little airport to find a smiling face there waiting on me. My lawyer, Mr. DeMarco, had arranged for me to fly to a home for unwed mothers. Each woman there had found themselves in the same predicament as I was in. Pregnant without anyone to turn to. The prospective parents only lived two hours away, so they could take a more active role in the pregnancy.
Jane produced a key and opened the door to a furnished apartment. It wouldn’t have won any decorating contest but held ever necessity. “It’ll be okay. If you need
anything day or night, I’m always around.” She patted my hand. “We stocked the fridge for you already. The ice maker is broken, but James will be around tomorrow to fix it.”
I stood in a well-worn apartment and fought back the tears. It was the last place I wanted to be. I wanted to be back in that hotel, making love to Ethan. But with what I knew to be true, I would only be holding out for the inevitable. I wished I had never forgotten the lies, and then I would’ve never believed I was capable of the happily-ever-after.
“It’s great. Thank you,” I said but couldn’t bring myself to look at her without bursting into tears.
I didn’t have to see her to know her mouth was turned down in a frown. “Sweetheart, in years to come, you’ll see this was for the best.”
I didn’t want to think about the years to come. What life would be like after I held my little girl? She kicked my left rib, no doubt, letting me know she was still there. My past would always define me, but I wouldn’t cast that burden on another helpless child. I loved her enough to give her a life better than me.
“I haven’t been able to sleep in quite a few hours. May I take a nap before I come down and sign all those papers?”
She seemed agitated I was putting off signing the papers giving away the rights to my child. “Sure, but as soon as you are up we need to get those papers signed.”
As much as I needed one, I was too tired to take a bath or even change clothes. I was too tired to care about anything.
The bedroom was sparse, but the linens were fresh and looked inviting. I kicked off my shoes, crawled under the thick layers of blankets, curled up into a ball, and cried myself to sleep.
Ethan
Mom scrambled to the back door and hesitated. It was the first time in my life she was scared of me. I waved for her to come out, and tried smiling but my lips refused to obey. She rattled her cellphone in her hand.
“It’s Margaret Ellen. She said she had been trying to call your cell.”
I slapped the pockets on my jeans. Fuck, I left my cell on the bed at the hotel. I held up my hand and shook my head. I had no desire to talk to anyone about anything other than Dylan.
“It’s about the girl you set up a trust for,” Helen said.
Dylan, what did she know about her? I snapped the phone out of my mom’s hand.
“Marge?” I choked out.
“Sir, I got a call about the girl you’ve been supporting the last few years.” Margaret Ellen’s voice was shaky and nervous.
What the hell did she know about Dylan? What if they were making trouble for her for not attending college? Was that why she ran? I felt my heart race at the thought.
“What about her?”
Margaret Ellen knew that I was highly protective of the recipient of the trust fund, but she had no idea it was the girl I was dating. It was my Dylan.
“A clinic for unwed mothers in Alabama called and offered to repay any or all the scholarship money back. I thought you would want to know she is obviously pregnant and debating adoption.”
My heart slipped from my chest at that moment and left behind a ragging, bleeding hole. Dylan Elizabeth Summers had changed me in ways I never dream possible. She owned me, and the thought of her sitting in some clinic ready to throw it all away killed my soul.
“What was the clinic’s name? I paused, afraid I might have lost everything that ever mattered. “What the hell is the name?” I barked again without thinking.
“The Clymer Clinic in Birmingham.”
“I know it’s your day off but can you gather as much info as you can on the clinic and send an email to my dad’s phone? I’ve lost mine.”
I clicked off the phone and knocked the chair over getting up. “Come on, dad. We’re taking a road trip.”
I turned back first and kissed my mom on the forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Dad will text you when we know something.”
I shook my head and walked away. I didn’t wait to answer any questions because I knew that it would push me over the edge. I was simply fighting to breathe through the pain at that moment. I couldn’t just let her leave. Who would take care of her? Who would hold her when she was crying? Who the hell was she trying to give our daughter too? She wasn’t thinking. I needed to get to her and help her get through whatever made her leave.
The three-hour drive to Birmingham, Alabama would have been harder if my dad had not come along. At times, I wanted to blame half my problems with Dylan on him but the truth was he had always had my back.
“Son, you’ll get her back. Slow down before you kill us,” Neal said, cutting his eyes over toward me.
I eased off the gas pedal but still kept it a little over a hundred.
“Every one of my kids are the greatest blessings in my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant I didn’t get to have each of you. But you’re my pride. Not only because you’re the one I got to have with my Helen, but because you’re me. Not one of my other children has the drive and desire to succeed like you. But as hard as you’ve always worked, you’ve always partied even harder. Are you ready to turn your back on all that for her and a family?” he asked quietly and started fidgeting with the radio buttons.
I tousled my hand through my hair. “I use to live for the next deal, the next fix, hell, the next fuck, but none of that matters anymore. I can’t wait to get off work and go home to her. I enjoy cooking for her, snuggling on the couch. I love our sex life . . .”
Neal held up his finger not wanting to hear about my sex life.
I didn’t even blush. My dad had walked in on me fucking. The fact I was no virgin wasn’t news to anyone. “But I love the nights I just hold her while she sleeps. My biggest fantasy now is watching Dylan raise that precious little girl with me.”
“You have to tell her. You have to tell her who Victoria really is. Why you can’t marry her.”
“Yet, why I can’t marry her yet.” I slammed my fist into the steering wheel repeatedly until my dad reached across the truck to grab the wheel to keep from ramming into the side of a nearby car.
Sunday March 22, 2015
Dylan
It was dark outside when I woke up. I looked around for a clock and didn’t spot one. I reached for my purse to pull out my cellphone when I remembered I had left it back in that hotel room. Thinking about it, I wondered about Ethan, and what he was possibly doing at that moment. Was he wondering about me? Did he miss me? I had analyzed every second I had with him, every word I could remember coming out of his plump, kissable lips. I tried hating him, not wanting him, but the more I thought about him, the more I wanted to be with him. We never talked about the past, but then again, Deacon and Sarah threaten him every time they saw him to not tell me anything. It was dangerous.
I got up, needing some time to decide what to do. I was still fully dressed and didn’t have any desire to change. I slid opened the patio doors and stepped out onto a small wooden deck overlooking a massive span of concrete. I shrugged. It was better than anywhere that I had lived as a teenager.
“You don’t need to be outside this time of the night. It’s not the best part of town.” A deep voice came from a picnic table that sat on the side of the parking lot. He was a middle-age man. It was obvious he was manual labor. He was heavyset but you could still see tight muscles on his upper arm. His long dirty blond hair was in a low ponytail. Several strands fell loosely around his face. I couldn’t see his mouth from the several weeks’ growth of facial hair but I could tell he was smiling.
“Smoking around an apartment full of pregnant women is not very safe either,” I said with a smirk and took a drink from the water bottle I had picked up on the way out. I hadn’t expected to see a man outside the building, but he seemed like he belong there, and for some reason, he didn’t raise any flags.
“So when did you get here?” He raised one of his eyebrows. “Are you the new girl DeMarco sent over?”
“I guess,” I replied.
1. Who was he? The damn
police. Ethan would’ve been ready to kick his butt for asking me too many questions. I cracked. Falling back in my chair, every emotion I’d ever experience came crashing down on me. I’d been an emotional wreck since Victoria greeted me outside the bathroom, but nothing compared to the brokenness I suddenly felt. I was pregnant with a child I wanted more than my next breath, by a man, I wanted just as much. By a man, who promised to make me pay for hurting his brother who spent three days raping me. A man, who promised to love me. A man, through it all, I still needed. A man, who I wanted to hold me. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut in order to hold back the flood of tears. I didn’t want to cry. Crap, I couldn’t stop crying.
I stroked over my stomach. My heart was too shattered to give to my daughter the love she deserved. She was worthy of a mother who was not totally broken, and a father that actually loved her.