Lies We Tell

by Jeana E. Mann

  “Yeah, I know.” I patted her hand. We snuggled closer. Colton sighed and rolled onto his back, flinging a hand into my stomach. It reminded me of our younger days when we only had each other. I liked having her near. Adversity had forged a bond between us that would never break.

  “I know I should have done something to help Owen, but I was fourteen, Stella, and terrified of being separated from you.” Our hands met. She squeezed until my fingers ached. “As time passed, it was easier to forget the whole terrible mess. I didn’t realize how much you loved him.” I tried to free my fingers from hers, my anger renewing, but she clung to me. “Please, please, don’t be upset with me.”

  In fairness, I’d hidden my pain from her, saving my tears for the late-night hours when no one could hear me. “It’s not too late. You could still do something.”

  “I did. I called your friend, Michael, before I came here.” My breath caught in my throat at her confession. She swallowed, as if the words burned her throat.

  “Lanie, oh my God.” I pulled her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you for coming forward. You have no idea how much this means to me. You did the right thing.”

  “I hope so.” Her pretty face puckered with worry. “Michael said he’d get back to us in a few days.”

  “Why can’t you tell me about Chris?” I asked. Fear of the truth made my insides quake, but my love for her overwhelmed my misgivings. I tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

  She nodded. “I promise that I’ll tell you someday, but not tonight.” Her gaze fell on Colton. She smoothed the blanket over his little body, her touch light and tender. “They’re growing up way too fast. Kimberly’s already talking about boys, and it scares the bejeezus out of me.”

  I barked out a laugh, making Colton snuffle. She shushed me with a frown. “Sorry,” I whispered. “All you can do is try to teach them what’s right, Lanie. And I think you do a pretty good job of it. They’re terrific kids.”

  “I know, but I worry.” Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion. Faint circles shadowed her eyes, smudges I hadn’t noticed until now. “What if Kimberly turns out like me?”

  “Heaven help us both,” I said, teasing, but Lanie had already fallen asleep.

  I laid there for a while longer, listening to their even breathing. Lanie’s confession gave me hope for Owen’s future. Unwilling to raise his hopes or his anger, I decided not to tell him anything until I heard back from Michael. When my own exhaustion grew too much, I tiptoed down the hall to check on Trey and Kimberly. Without waking them, I smoothed their sheets and tucked the blankets around them before returning to my bed. The house seemed full for the first time since I’d moved in. Before I turned off the lamp, I took a minute to savor the first feeling of belonging I’d ever had.

  Twenty-Seven

  Stella

  Present Day

  The next day, the house brimmed with activity. Cindy and Dad brought over their boys. We baked cookies in the kitchen and ate them on the front porch while the kids played football in the yard. The frosty air turned their breath into clouds and painted their cheeks bright red. I couldn’t help thinking about Stan and Marianne, and how they’d love to see their house full of happy people. I had no idea where people went in the afterlife, but I hoped they could see us down here.

  “What are you smiling about?” Owen asked. In his red flannel shirt, he looked like a fierce lumberjack. His hair had grown another inch in the last month. I brushed it away from his face.

  “I was thinking about Stan and Marianne. They couldn’t have any kids of their own. That’s why they had so many foster kids. It seems right to have a lot of people in this house.”

  “Yep, I think so too.” He wrapped his arms around my middle and rested his chin on the top of my head. His hold tightened on my waist. The scruff of his chin brushed over my forehead. “When’s your next photo shoot?”

  “I don’t know.” Traveling held less appeal today than it had a few months ago. “But I was thinking maybe you would come with me next time.”

  “Really?” He pulled back to study my face. I stroked a hand along the curve of his cheek, loving the way his eyes sparkled when I touched him.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a solid maybe.”

  We both laughed. It felt good to smile again after so many years of seriousness. Even though gray clouds darkened the sky and snowflakes twirled in the air, the sun had come out on my life. But the minute Michael’s car turned into the driveway, the old panic returned. He got out of the car. Tiny snowflakes dotted the lapels of his black trench coat and his sleek dark hair. I tried to step out of Owen’s embrace, but he didn’t let go. Michael’s curious gaze slid over the playing children, Lanie, and the Shermans before landing on my face.

  “Stella, hi. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I was in the area and wanted to see how you’re doing. I brought this.” He extended a bottle of wine topped with a red bow.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. Do you want to come in?” I gestured toward the house. He glanced up at Owen, like he was asking for approval.

  “Owen. Good to see you again.” The two men shook hands. “I can’t stay more than a minute.” The Shermans kept the kids outside while Lanie, Owen, and I escorted Michael to the house.

  Once inside, he perused the living room with its cozy rugs and comfortable furniture. Warm flames blazed in the fireplace. “This place looks amazing. You did a great job. I can’t believe it’s the same home.”

  “It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting there.” My chest swelled with pride. I remembered his initial doubts and curbed the desire to remind him how little faith he’d had in my abilities. It had only been a few months since we’d split up, but I felt more confident and content than ever.

  An awkward silence ensued. Michael looked at the floor. I picked at my nails. Owen watched us both with his piercing gaze. Finally, Michael cleared his throat and said, “Actually, I have something to discuss with the three of you, if you don’t mind.”

  My stomach flipped over. What if he’d found the evidence in Owen’s case? Had he come to warn us? I touched Owen’s hand. “Let’s go into the study.” I closed the door behind us. Lanie went to the far side of the room, her face pale, lips pressed together in a tight line. She looked small and scared.

  “What’s going on?” Owen asked.

  Michael went to the window and stared outside at the kids. Their shrieks and laughter carried on the cold air. The snow had begun to stick. A fine layer of white coated the grass. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Do you remember the girl who went missing twenty years ago? The Cartwright’s daughter?” We nodded. “The forensic results are back.” When he turned to face us, his face was more serious than I’d ever seen it. “There’s no easy way to say this. From everything we can tell, we think Chris was involved in her murder.”

  The strength evaporated from my legs. I sank onto the loveseat. Owen sat beside me. He ran both hands through his hair. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice breaking on the words.

  Michael nodded. “Reasonably sure. He was the main suspect from the beginning. And someone recently came forward with information tying Chris to the girl. I can’t go into the details of the case, but I wanted to prepare you before the journalists broke the story.”

  I put my arms around Owen’s neck and drew his head to my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” The pain and sadness in his eyes rocked me to my core.

  “It’s okay,” he said. Despite his pain, his first thought was to comfort me, and it made me love him even more. “I’m not that surprised. You want to think the best of your family, but in truth, he always had a liking for violence.”

  “It was me,” Lanie blurted, making me flinch. Tears shimmered in her large eyes. “I told Michael what I knew about Chris.” Her tears began to flow faster, dripping from the point of her chin. “I’m so sorry, Owen. I should have come forward when Chris died, but
I thought they’d send me away from Stella. And then you confessed, and everything went back to normal.” She twisted her hands, her pale skin getting whiter with each passing second. “The last time I saw Chris, we were down by the river. He’d been drinking, and he was different, colder. He kept talking about the Cartwright girl, and how much I reminded him of her. The more he talked, the more agitated he became. I was so mad at you, Stella, for butting into my life, and I knew you’d be pissed, so I took your knife, and I wore your favorite shirt. And then Chris got really aggressive, pushing me around and calling me a slut. I was so scared.” Her lips trembled. Michael put his arm around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully at him. “He knocked me down and started choking me. I pulled out the knife and—and—and—I had to do it. He would’ve killed me.”

  Owen stared at her, but I lost my mind a little. Rage and frustration and pain raced through my veins. I took a step toward her, curling my hands into fists. She reared back, eyes wild, like I might hurt her. And I wanted to, for all the years of lies and heartbreak. Michael stepped between us.

  “Take a breath, Stella,” Michael warned.

  I pushed him aside. “You let Owen go to prison, and you didn’t say anything?” My lungs ached. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Red spots swam in front of my eyes. “How could you, Lanie?”

  “I’m trying to make it right.” She reached for me. I knocked her hand away. Hurt crumpled her features. “I know I did the wrong thing back then, but I was only fourteen, Stella. And I was terrified.”

  I wanted to hate her for what she’d done to Owen and to me, but I remembered her tears the day our mom had left us, and the way she’d clung to me. We were all we had. After a heavy exhale, I turned away from her, finding refuge in Owen’s strong arms. “Just give me a minute,” I said. “I need to wrap my head around this.” He had to be reeling, too.

  “It was a clear case of self-defense,” Michael said, adding his quiet voice of reason to the mix. “She could have been his next victim.”

  “What happens now?” Owen asked. I pressed my ear to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat steadied my nerves. If he could be calm, so could I.

  “I’ll do what I can to straighten things out,” Michael said. His arm was still around my sister. Catching my glare, he dropped his hands to his sides and stepped away. “Since Chris is deceased, the investigation will most likely be closed.”

  “I appreciate that.” Owen nodded before resting his chin on the top of my head. I gave him a squeeze then turned in his embrace to face Michael and Lanie. With Owen’s arms around my middle, we were a team, and it was the best feeling in the world.

  “Well, I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best. Once the news is out, it’ll blow over quickly.” Michael extended his hand, and the two men shook hands again.

  “You’re the best, Michael,” I said. Even though things hadn’t worked out for us, I still held affection for him.

  “I really need to get going. I hope you can work through this,” Michael said. He touched my arm. “Everyone makes mistakes, Stella. Don’t forget that.”

  His words carried with me for the rest of the night. My life had been a cluster of mistakes, from the moment my mother dropped me at the children’s home with a baby sister in tow. We’d done our best to survive. Poor Lanie had been a victim from the beginning. Guilt brought the sting of tears to my eyes. I should’ve done more to protect her.

  Owen walked to the door with Michael, leaving me alone with Lanie. She wrapped her arms around her waist, the way she’d done when she was little and afraid. “Please don’t be mad at me, Stella.”

  “I just need some time to sort through this. Right now, I’m numb.” I sank down on the loveseat and buried my head in my hands.

  “I love you more than anything, and I can’t take having you mad at me.” She dropped to her knees in front of me. “I know I’m a fuck-up. But I want to be a better person, Stella. Like you. You’ve always been there for me. Nothing ever scares you. You just take life by the balls.”

  “If you had listened to me back then, none of this would have happened,” I said through my fingers.

  “I was young and stupid and so angry at the world.” One by one, she peeled my fingers from my face, like she was ten and I was twelve again. “If I could go back and change things, I would. But I had no choice about Chris.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I still see his face in my dreams. So much rage in him. It was him or me, Stell.”

  “You did what you had to do to stay alive, and I’ll never fault you for that. But it’s not just about Chris. It’s every guy you date. They’re losers. When are you going to wise up? You’re a beautiful woman. You deserve better than a jobless, lowlife scum who doesn’t appreciate you. I’m not always going to be around to fix your problems.”

  “Don’t say that.” With the back of her hand, she swiped the tears from her cheeks then wiped mine away. “I haven’t gone out with anyone since you moved here. And I enrolled in online classes to get my GED.”

  A three-month dry spell for Lanie was equivalent to a lifetime for other people. Maybe she meant to change this time. However, I had my doubts. I’d heard too many excuses. Seen too many abandoned efforts. I lifted an eyebrow. “Really? What brought this about?”

  “Kimberly and Trey. They said my boyfriends are scary. I don’t want my kids to ever be afraid, Stella. Not because of me.”

  I stared at the floor. Owen returned to the room. His big hand smoothed over my back. More than anything, I wanted to believe Lanie. Her confession to Michael was a beginning, but I couldn’t forgive her. Not yet.

  Twenty-Eight

  Owen

  Present Day

  The next day, shouting woke me from a deep sleep. Early morning light slanted through the windows. I swept a hand over Stella’s side of the bed. The sheets were bare and smooth beneath my palm. We’d held each other, waking occasionally to make slow, tender love, but her tossing and turning had made for a restless night. Lanie’s confession had rocked us both. As I stared at the ceiling, their angry voices carried up through the floor register. With a groan, I dragged my feet to the floor and sat up. From the escalating heat of their conversation, someone—like me—needed to referee the situation. I pulled on a pair of jeans and went downstairs to investigate.

  “I can hear you upstairs.” I gave both women a reproachful glare. “If I can hear you, the kids can too.” They were innocent victims in this situation, and I didn’t want them to worry about needless events. Being Lanie’s children was probably stressful enough.

  “You need to go, Lanie.” Stella stood near the stove, face pale, lips trembling. I’d never seen her so distraught before.

  “Come on. You don’t mean that.” Lanie’s delicate features puckered. Tears shone in her eyes. “I came forward. I did the right thing. That has to count for something.”

  “Eighteen years too late.” Stella shook her head, shoulders tensed. “I can’t even look at you, right now, Lanie. You really let me down. I need time to get over it. I’m not sure I can ever forgive you.”

  “You’re being unfair.” Lanie swiped the wetness from her cheeks. She sniffed loudly as she left the room. “Fine. I’ll go, but you can’t hate me forever. I’m the only sister you’ve got.”

  “You should’ve thought of that sooner.” Stella crossed her arms over her chest, radiating stubbornness. My heart went out to both women, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty. They were fighting because of me.

  Lanie paused at my side, her gaze focusing on a place over my shoulder. “I suppose you hate me too.”

  “I don’t hate you. I’m disappointed. You had a million chances to say something. Stella has every right to be upset with you. We both do.” Sleep had added to my conflicting feelings instead of clearing my head. “But I could never hate you. I knew Chris better than anyone. He wasn’t a good person.” There were so many components to consider in this puzzle. “You just need to give us some space to deal with this.”
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  Her voice thickened. She placed a hand on my shoulder and looked directly at me for the first time since she’d arrived. Her large eyes brimmed with sincerity. “I know that I can never apologize enough for what happened, Owen. But I am sorry. I’ll understand if you never want to speak to me again.”

  “I don’t want that,” I replied, but she’d already started up the stairs. What did I want? Nothing could restore the years I’d lost. Fretting over things I couldn’t change had never been productive. The three of us needed to find a way to move forward and put these awful events behind us.

  “Speak for yourself.” Stella’s gaze followed me to the coffeemaker. I poured a cup then braced my hands on the counter. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, chin lifted stubbornly.

  “I know you don’t mean that.” I took a sip of the coffee, gaining strength from the strong black liquid. Stella loved Lanie more than anything in the world.

  “I don’t know. Maybe not.” Beneath her cotton T-shirt, her breasts lifted and fell in a heavy sigh. The air between us thickened from a combination of sexual tension and stress. “But I’m not going to let her off the hook that easily.” She gusted a heavy sigh. “I want to forgive her, but I can’t.”

  In two strides, I crossed the room and drew her into my arms. Every time I held her, I fell deeper into her spell. She fit perfectly beneath my arm. Her pain became my pain. “Give it some time.”

  “I know, right?” Wetness from her tears seeped into the cloth of my shirt. I stroked her hair, wishing I could take away the ache for her. She blinked up at me, resting her chin on my sternum. The sight of her weepy eyes damn near broke me. “Does that make me a bad person?”