Every jealousy angle I tried only ended up bringing those assholes closer together.
Then for him to bring our lawyers into it.
Threaten mental institutions and health evaluations.
There is no way I’m going back on my meds. I can't do it, so I let them have their way. Take Georgia from me.
But it's fine. It gives me time to plan.
I only need one final plan!
I mean, there is only one last thing I can do.
Cut out the problem at the head.
Lola Anderson has to go.
Permanently.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LOLA
The last two days have been stressful as fuck, but also an adventure. After we picked up Georgia from school we took off for the beach, just the three of us, to get away. We told Georgia it had been something we were planning for months, not wanting to alert her to being away from her mother suddenly. She didn’t ask any questions as we spent our time in the sun enjoying being away from the madness of the world. It had been what we all needed. Now we were back in reality, and I wasn't quite ready to face the real world again.
“Why aren't you dressed yet?” Dean wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the side of my neck. I’m standing in his bathroom in a pair of his grey boxers and a silk cami.
“I don't have classes today.”
“Lucky you.” He hums, rubbing his bearded chin into my bare shoulder, making me laugh.
It's a half lie, I only have two classes on Monday, but my morning class was canceled, so I figured I skip the second and hang out here and do something special for Dean. Okay, so my true intention is to butter him up and finally reveal to him the rest of the secrets I've been holding in for the longest time.
“Yeah, so I thought I would camp out here today. Then make us dinner. My sister and mom said they could watch Georgia for a bit tonight.”
Just in case he doesn't take said news well.
I don’t see how he will.
My hand touches my stomach, and though we will be joined by one thing together, forever, this could be the news that shatters us. I’m not even sure why I want to tell him. It was never my plan, but I can’t hold it in much longer.
He has the right to know. Secrets never stay hidden forever. They always find a way to come to the forefront in the worst possible way—like an infection—that bores inside of you, not letting go, nearly killing you till you find a cure.
The cure for deep dark secrets: telling someone and setting them free. Though the release might still end up killing your soul.
Technically there is no win, but I can't take it anymore.
My problem is I've been holding onto this for four years by myself. Not a single soul knows about my secret, and with the baby coming, yeah, it is better now to lay it all out than to let it blow up later when it’s too late.
“What are we having for dinner?” His thumb brushes over my nipple and his mouth hovers over mine. The sexual tension is now burning bright between us.
Why does he have to leave? I want to curl back into bed with him and hide from the world some more.
“I was thinking of baby back ribs?” I gulp at the mention of the word baby. We haven’t had a chance to talk more about the baby since the events of what happened the other day. Instead, we’ve been keeping Georgia busy.
“Cute.” He kisses my nose, then behind my ear.
“I thought so. Maybe some baby potatoes to go along with it.”
“I didn’t know you were such the chef,” he teases, and I roll my eyes.
“Oh, you didn't, huh? Well, it's a talent I learned a while back to help me pick up this hot older man.”
“Did it work?” He smirks.
“I like to think so. He hasn't let me go yet.”
He grabs me by my waist and pulls me flush with him tight, our noses touching. I can feel his love pour out of him. “I never plan to let go either, baby. I love you so damn much.” He kisses me gently, but his soft kiss means so much.
“I love you, too. I hope you never forget it either.” My forehead falls to his, trying to convey telepathically how much I do love him, and I hope no matter what he remembers it. That he remembers what we have shared and what I share tonight doesn't change me or my feelings for him.
I open the oven and check on the ribs inside. I dab on a little extra bbq sauce and give the timer another thirty minutes before closing the oven again. This is going to be good.
I hope.
Dean is going to be home in about an hour. Georgia is now with my mom and sister, and I'm shaking like crazy.
Secrets are going to be told. There is no going back now. He had to know everything.
And I mean everything.
I'm hoping with this fancy feast, his belly will be full and happy and he won’t have the energy to be upset. At least he already knows about the baby, so maybe I can also milk that up...to remind him we made something special with our love. That my secret isn't that insane… that it doesn’t change anything.
I go to reach up towards the top cabinets for a mixing bowl when familiar chills run down my spine. The ones I've been feeling for the last month.
She's here.
Slowly I bring the red mixing bowl down, placing it on the counter. The scent of her lavender perfume overtakes my sense, and I want to gag. I've had enough of her.
And how did she get in here?
“Don't you look all cozy taking my place in the kitchen.”
I turn around to face my intruder. My already high anxiety spikes further spotting the silver switchblade in her hand that she's waving around with a crazed smile on her face. Standing behind her is a man six-four with arms bigger than his head and huge veins popping out of his neck.
I’m in trouble. Big trouble.
But I’m not going down without a fight.
“What are you doing here, Peyton?”
“Claiming back what is mine. But first I need to get rid of a little problem. Well, two little problems.” The knife circles my stomach, and I swallow the large pile of saliva down that has gathered in my throat.
How the hell did she know?
I brace my shoulders back, trying not to act affected. I can do this. I'm wearing my big girl thong today. “The only problem here is you, crazy town.”
“What did you call me?” she snarls, and inches forward.
Okay, maybe too much, Lola.
“You heard me. Why can't you just go away and leave me alone?”
“I'm not going anywhere. You stole everything from me, everything that was once mine, everything that I have.”
“No, I didn't. You didn't care about what I had two months ago. You were fine. Why do you care now?”
“You don't get to ask the questions…” She steps towards me again, wielding the knife and aiming it right at my stomach. I step back my flight or fight response is in the middle of an internal battle of wills.
“You don’t want to do that,” I plead, hoping this is the right move and pray it doesn’t cause her to lose the rest of the screws she has left.
Plead to a part of the old Peyton I hope is still hiding in there somewhere. The one Dean used to know.
“And why not?” she says slowly with a sly grin on her face, her fingers tracing the blade.
God, I hope this works.
“Because you’re going to be a grandmother.” I smirk, and her left eye twitches. The words surprise her, I'm sure.
How could she have expected that I would say that?
“What the hell are you talking about?” Her feet halt, and her head tilts, looking at me like I'm the crazy one now. Maybe I am for confessing this to her now, when she has a knife in her hand, but these are desperate times.
“I said you wouldn't want to do that because you're going to be a grandmother. I guess you’ve been too busy trying to figure out ways to hurt me, that you never took a second to talk to me and get to know me. That really hurts, Mom.”
Her eyes go wide, and the knife dro
ps to her side. “What the fuck did you say?” Her tone is deadly soft, but I can see in her eyes the harsh reality of my words.
“I called you mom because that’s who you are. To think after all these years, you never took enough time to get to know me, to really look at me. It’s such a shame you’re so blind by your rage. Because it really would’ve saved you so much trouble trying to do whatever it was you were trying to do to me. Maybe none of this would've happened.”
“You’re fucking lying. You’re insane.” The knife lifts, and she waves it in my face.
“No, that’s you.”
“There’s no way I’m your mother.” She spits out the word harshly, but I can see in her twitchy eyes the possibility is hitting her.
“Well, you are. I have the proof back at my house. You signed the birth certificate before walking out of the hospital and gave me up forever. Lakewood Hospital December 19th, 2000. I was born nine weeks premature. Does that all sound familiar?” Judging by her wide, fearful eyes, I say it all hit her like a tornado. “You didn’t go by Peyton on the form. Your real name is Janice Lee-Peyton Morgan. Father Unknown. You were only sixteen at the time. You dipped out in the middle of the night. But you see I guess it wouldn't have been so bad if the antipsychotic meds you were on didn't leave me with heavy withdrawal symptoms and in the NICU for three months.
“No, it can't be.” Her head shakes wildly. “They told me the chances of you making it were five percent. Five!” she screeches. “There’s no way you are her. This has to be some kind of sick joke.” She glances around the room and the burly guy she brought with her shrugs. “No. You should be dead,” she mumbles, and a cold chill runs down my spine. It isn't the words I wanted to hear. Her whole body tightens up, and she leans against the counter.
“Well, I'm very much alive,” I whisper, throwing her out of her trance.
When I found out why I had been so premature, I never hated her for it. I couldn't because I thought at least she had been trying to take care of herself, but now it’s a whole different story.
“Kiki had been on the floor that month and saw me,” I continue, and I don't know why I'm telling her this knowing it's just going to piss her off. But she has to know it’s not my fault I lived.
Maybe too many episodes of Criminal Minds with Dean, teaching me to keep the perp talking.
“She said she fell in love with me instantly. That's how I got to stay here in town. She has no idea you're my mom, though. I never told her I found you and if she does know she hasn't told me.”
Peyton doesn't reply and stares at me blankly, so I go on, thinking maybe I'm getting through to her. At the same time, I'm shedding these layers I've been holding onto for years.
“When I discovered who you were, I was so excited because you were so close. I never expected you’d still be in Wilmington and be a teacher at my high school or living across the street of all places. I swore it was destiny that I was going to get to know my real mother.” I smile, trying to convey how happy I had been at the time I found out about her being so close. My biological mother had been footsteps away from me, breathing my air. I was going to know where I came from, and if we shared similar traits because I felt so out of place with my adopted parents. Even though they love me through and through.
But now the only destiny in finding Peyton was getting to love Dean and Georgia. Because I no longer want anything to do with the traits Peyton has to offer.
“Destiny, please,” she spits. “It's the worst thing that could've happened. I never wanted to come back to this godforsaken town. I never even wanted to have kids, but I did it all for Dean. He wanted this quiet little country life because his grandparents left him a house and suddenly he wanted to teach at the smaller school. Back then, I would do anything for Dean, but I thought I was safe. Because I knew your father was dead and I swore you were dead too.” Her eyes cloud over, turning the blackest of black. Another part of her has snapped, and it's when I realize I might have gone too far. The silver blade in her hand lifts again, and she takes two steps towards me. I go running, but I don't make it far.
The big ox she brought with her grabs me around the waist and knocks me against the wall, holding me in place.
“Thank you, Lloyd.” She pats him on the back and then grabs me around the neck, squeezing me so tight it hurts, but I can thankfully still breathe.
The knife now digs into the side of my stomach. Lloyd steps away chuckling.
“Nice friend, you got there,” I mumble, and she squeezes a little tighter around my neck.
“It's amazing the people you can meet on the internet these days. You remember your little frat friends, right?” She laughs, and my stomach twists at the memory. How can I forget? “Now, little girl you had your chance to talk, now it's Mommy's turn. You wanted to know about me.”
“I thought I did, but then you weren't who I thought you were.”
“What's that? A Susie homemaker?”
“No. I don't know.”
“Tell me,” she growls, pushing her body into me along with the blade. I feel it prick my skin. My eyes close, and I try to swallow with her hand gripped around my neck.
“At school, you were super nice. You praised me, it felt good that you noticed me. Then when you hired me to watch Georgia, I was thrilled because you welcomed me to be a part of your family, I got to watch my sister grow up, and then that's when I saw another side of you. You became this whole different person. You were more strict, you weren’t there. You ignored them, you ignored me, and had me raise Georgia for you. You wouldn't play with her, wouldn't interact with her, especially when she was little. You weren't there even when you were home. It was so odd to see these two different sides of you. You were the same with your—husband.” I opt for a safe, neutral word.
“What did you want from me?”
“To know you. Be your friend. Something. I didn't know. I just wanted to get to know you.”
“So you could steal my husband?”
“That was never part of any plan. We just happened. You left him heartbroken. You didn’t love him. He was willing to move the world for you until you gave up on him completely. I watched you shatter his heart for years.”
“You teased him with your teenage pussy,” she hisses, and I swear she's practically foaming at the mouth.
“I didn't tease him. We fell in love.”
“Love? Oh, little girl. You're pathetic. What do you think he's gonna do when he finds out you're my daughter? That he’s just been fucking a younger me? He's going to hate you too.”
My heart skips a beat, and the stomach that was already at my feet now lands on the ground. I know the risk, but I’m not going to admit it to her. “He won't. He loves me.”
“Loves you? Please. I've been listening. All Dean has for you is lust.”
“That's not true.”
“Please. The same goes for you. Like isn't that why you like calling him Daddy?”
I can feel the rest of the blood drain from my face. She heard all that? How long has she been listening to us? How? “It sickens me that you would call my Dean such. You want to know who your real daddy is?” She tightens her grip on my neck.
“No.”
I don't. I never cared, and now with what I know, I definitely don't.
God, I'm made from two monsters.
“To bad because I'm going to tell you a story.” She gives me a crooked grin. “I suppose I owe you one of those. His name was Emmett, and he was my first boyfriend. We dated for about two months. Then one day we were making out, and he wanted more. I didn’t. Well, you’re a smart girl, you can guess what happened. He forced himself on me. Sometimes I can still feel him on me. Especially now, seeing you in front of me,” she growls. “You do have his nose and his damn chin. How did I not see it before? He brought out the voices in me last time. It’s the reason why I was taking so many of those drugs. When I found out I was pregnant with you…” she hisses through her teeth, and her nails dig into the skin of m
y neck, “I did everything to try to get rid of you, but you kept hanging on. I even tried throwing myself down the stairs once. I’ll give you credit. You're resilient, like me.”
“I’m nothing like you though. Thank god, the only traits we have in common is our eyes and hair.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Did you ever think of me?”
“No. I wanted nothing to do with you. You were a connection to him. The doctor said your chance of living was slim. Like today.” An evil glint shoots through her eyes once again.
“I'm sorry he did that to you, you didn't deserve that. I get why you wouldn't want me, but I'm not him and I really really just wanted to know you…” My breathing quickens feeling the cool metal twist on my skin. Her anger is not letting up, but me being her daughter isn’t why she is here today. I need to keep her talking. It's the only way to save myself because if she wanted me dead, she would've done it by now. “Why are you here, Peyton? You didn't care about us three months ago. You didn't even act like we existed?”
“They always liked you more,” she mumbles, and for a moment the knife relaxes from my side, and I feel a sense of relief.
Storytime is working.
“What?”
“Don't act all surprised, princess,” she snarls. “I bring you into my house, and Dean didn't need me anymore. Georgia didn't either. You took over. It was fine because I didn't know how to handle her, with the crying and always needing something. It's different with kids that are yours, and I worked with high schoolers who didn't need attention. But it killed me as you got older how Dean would look at you. It was sickening.”
I gape at her. Wait, what?
“Don't play innocent, either.”
“Peyton, nothing ever happened till you and him…”
“It doesn't matter. I couldn't be what he wanted, and then because of you he didn’t want me anymore, so I made new friends and then I met Hector. He let me be myself. I didn't have responsibilities, no one questioned my meds or told me I need to hug my daughter more or pay them attention when all I wanted to do was anything but.”
Perfect Storm Page 14
