Perfect Liar: A Dark Romance Thriller (Beautiful Ashes Book 1)

by Dori Lavelle

  I can still hear the stranger calling, but I ignore him. As I start the car and pull away from the road, I can already hear the sound of sirens.

  It’s not long until an ambulance drives past.

  Fifteen minutes later, I reach the hospital where I’m sure they’ll bring Bree. I find a parking space and wait inside my car for a full hour, enough time for her to be transported to the hospital and admitted.

  When it’s time, I put on a cap, a pair of sunglasses, and the mustache I always keep in my car in case I need to disguise myself in any situation. When I exit the car, I feel like a different person, even though my heart still beats for Bree.

  I try not to think about what I’d do if she doesn’t make it.

  “I’m here to see my sister, Mrs. Bree Tyler,” I say to the freckle-faced woman in the emergency department. “She was admitted tonight.”

  The woman frowns at my face for a moment, then glances at her computer. “Unfortunately, she’s in surgery right now. Are you a family member?”

  “I said I’m her brother,” I snap, then pull myself together. “Sorry, I’m just worried. How bad is it?”

  “Unfortunately, there’s not much I can tell you at the moment. The doctors will know more after surgery. Someone will come to speak to you in the waiting room.” The bitch points a finger in the direction she wants me to go and returns her gaze to the computer, as if she doesn’t give a fuck about anything.

  “Fine.” Left with no other choice, I enter the packed waiting room and take a seat. To keep myself sane, I grab a magazine and start flipping through it, uninterested in anything on the page.

  Maybe this is a mistake. I should have taken Bree away like I had planned to do before the shrimp of a man had shown up. She’s my wife and he had no right to tell me what to do.

  It’s over an hour before a doctor with a hunched back walks into the room. He asks for Bree’s family members.

  I rise from my chair and extend my hand toward him.

  “I’m Dr. Lloyd,” he says, shaking my hand. His lined forehead is coated with sweat.

  My stomach twists. What if he has bad news.

  “I’m Mrs. Tyler’s brother,” I lie. “I heard she was involved in a car accident. Is she...is she all right?”

  “I’m afraid she’s in a rather critical condition at the moment.”

  My blood rushes to my head, making me dizzy. “How critical?”

  “She got a nasty blow to the head. After surgery, we had to put her in an induced comma to reduce swelling.”

  “But she will be fine, won’t she, doctor?”

  “I’m afraid I cannot say at this point, but if she makes it through the night, I’ll be more optimistic about her recovery. It is a good thing that she survived the surgery.”

  “Do everything you can for her, please.”

  “That’s our job,” Dr. Lloyd says. “We’ll do everything in our power.”

  I nod, my throat aching. “I’d like to see her, if it’s all right. I know she won’t respond, but—”

  “Of course, but not for long. Please follow me.”

  As we walk down the hall, I decide that I’m the only one who matters in Bree’s life. I will not call any of her friends, family members, or colleagues. They don’t deserve to be in her life. After all this is over, it will finally be just us.

  When we get to her door, I’m glad that there are no cops waiting around.

  “Here we are,” Dr. Lloyd says. “Don’t be too long.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” I run a hand through my hair. “Thank you for saving her life.”

  The doctor nods and leaves.

  I sit in a chair next to Bree’s bed, my hands clutching my knees, one eye on her face and the other on the door in case the cops show up.

  The woman I love is tied to various machines and has pipes coming out of some parts of her body. The woman who has always considered herself to be strong and independent is now weak and helpless. Love like I’ve never felt before rushes through me. I love her so much better this way. I want her to survive, but I also want her to remain broken.

  As I take her frail hand in mine, I promise myself that I’ll never allow her to go back to being the person she was before the accident.

  I lean forward and whisper into her ear, “You’re mine now.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  I turn to see a nurse enter the room, only ten minutes after I came to Bree.

  She walks up to Bree’s bed and starts studying the machines.

  “I just got here,” I say, and she throws me an annoyed look.

  “Yeah, but visiting hours are over. Come back in the morning.”

  There’s no point in fighting her. She’s doing her job. I kiss Bree on the forehead and straighten up again. “See you tomorrow.” I have to go anyway. There’s somewhere I need to be.

  I BARELY GLANCE AT the scene of the accident when I drive past it. Bree’s car is gone and there’s no sign of cops anywhere. I have no way of knowing if anyone is after me.

  But the accident has changed everything. Now it’s time for me to get back my life for good. But before I can do that, I need to eliminate whoever is standing in the way.

  I park the car a distance away from Karen’s house and walk the rest of the way, carrying the tools I need to get the job done. It’s dark and the air is a touch cool, but the rush of adrenaline is keeping me warm.

  The first thing I do when I arrive is break into Karen’s Mercedes. It takes me less than a minute to get inside.

  Having learned from my mistakes, I search the car for anything that could be used as a weapon. Then I get into the backseat and crouch behind the driver’s seat, my phone pressed to my ear.

  She must be sleeping because she doesn’t answer. I’m not about to quit this game without winning, so I call her again. I could break into her house and surprise her, but I’m pretty sure the alarm is activated. I need her to come out to me.

  This time she picks up.

  “Who is this?” She sounds sleepy.

  “Hey, Karen, this is Hunter.”

  Silence.

  “Why are you calling me? What the fuck do you want?” She sounds suddenly alert.

  “Nothing. I want nothing from you. But my wife needs you.”

  Silence again.

  “What...what did you do to Bree, you son of a bitch?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.” I pretend to be offended. “I’m only calling because your friend needs you.”

  “Where is she? If you hurt her, I swear I’ll—”

  “I did nothing.” I draw in a breath. “Bree was involved in a car accident. I’m her husband so the hospital called me.”

  “I won’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth. You’re a lying piece of shit.”

  “All right then. If you don’t believe me. Go ahead and give Mercy Lake Hospital a call. Then call me back. I’d love to hear you call me a liar again.”

  She drops the phone and I push mine into my pocket. I start counting inside my head.

  Before ten minutes are up, I hear the sound of her front door slamming, and a minute later, she gets behind the wheel, mumbling under her breath.

  Before she has a chance to start the car, I rise from my hiding place, the coil of rope I brought with me wrapped around my hands.

  “Tell me again that I’m a liar,” I say with a grin.

  “What the fuck,” she says. Those are her last words. Before she has a chance to fight me off, my rope is wrapped around her neck.

  I close my eyes to enjoy the wonderful sensation that comes with eliminating a life from the world.

  Once her body goes limp, I pay Vivian a visit as well. I lure her out of the house by taking the same exact steps I took with Karen. Before the night is over, they’re both inside the trunk of my car, on the way to their final resting place.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It’s been almost a week since the accident and Bree
is still in a coma. I’ve been sneaking into her room every night when the doctors and nurses are not around. On the second day, I saw a cop lurking outside her room. Maybe it was just a coincidence and he had other reasons to be at the hospital, but I have to be careful.

  It doesn’t surprise me that no one from Bree’s firm has shown up. I’m sure her boss has told everyone that she’s out of town.

  The two people who would have been a problem are under the soil, and she and her mother are not on speaking terms at the moment.

  To stop the hospital staff from trying to contact family members, I hired one of my friends from the street to pay her a visit every day, pretending to be one of her two brothers. What they don’t know is that Bree is an only child.

  Yesterday, I overheard a nurse telling the doctor that Bree showed signs of wanting to come out of the coma. The sooner she wakes up, the sooner we can start our new life.

  Right now, I’m on my way to Misty Cove, a small beachside town in Florida, the perfect place to start over.

  As soon as Bree wakes up, we’ll move there to start over from scratch. I will finally teach her how to be the perfect wife.

  Hopefully the blow to her head will make her realize what’s most important in her life.

  While my homeless friend Keith keeps an eye on Bree and updates me about any changes, I’ll be sorting out our future.

  I arrive in the pastel-colored town shortly after midday. I plan on leaving as soon as I accomplish what I came here to do.

  The cottage I saw in a listing on the internet is not hard to find. It’s one of the few on the edge of town, and according to the date online, it has been on the market for over a year.

  As soon as I bring the car to a stop, an old man with a bald patch covered by a few strands of hair approaches the vehicle and waits for me to exit.

  “You must be Mr. Brooks,” he says, stretching out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Randy Thomas.”

  Once we leave Houston, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler will no longer exist. We’ll be the Brookses. I spent the last days already sorting out our new documents—birth certificates, driver’s licenses, social security numbers, and everything else we need to live a normal life. It helps to know a few people on the wrong side of the law.

  “Please, call me Dave.” I smile at him, ignoring the scratch of the mustache on my upper lip. “Thank you for agreeing to see me at such late notice.”

  “Of course, Dave. I’m pleased you made time to come and see the cottage. You mentioned you won’t have much time, so let’s get to it.” He leads the way to the white picket fence.

  “I appreciate that.” I was afraid he might start asking too many questions, but I guess he’s eager to finally sell off the property.

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking.” I turn to him once we enter the house. “Why has it been on the market for so long?”

  Randy clears his throat. “Most people don’t come to Misty Cove to stay. They come to visit. It’s more of a tourist place. We rent it out most summers.”

  I nod. I don’t really care, but a normal person would probably want to ask that question. “It’s perfect,” I say after he shows me the three bedrooms, both overlooking the ocean. One room will be for us, and the other two for our kids. As soon as Bree recovers, it will be time to start the process of bringing our first child into the world.

  The tour is short and I don’t ask any unnecessary questions. My favorite place in the whole house is the basement, which has a hidden storage area under the floor boards that’s at least a quarter of the room.

  “It’s a great place to put valuables,” Randy tells me, his face flushed by the excitement at the possibility of landing a sale.

  “I love everything about the cottage. I’m pretty sure my wife will love it too.”

  “Where’s your wife? It would have been nice for her to see it as well.”

  “Unfortunately, she’s in the hospital right now. She was in a car accident.” I slide the cover back onto the hidden storage area.

  Randy’s face falls. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you. But she’ll be fine. As soon as she recovers, we’re hoping to move to Misty Cove. It will be the perfect place for her to recover.” I push my hands into my pockets. “Tell me, Randy, are you ready to give me this place?”

  He pretends to think, an index finger on his lips, but he doesn’t fool me. The dollar signs are already flashing in his eyes.

  “Come on, Randy. I offered to pay more than you’re asking.”

  He smiles. “Which shows that you appreciate the beauty of this place. So, you’re in luck. It’s yours if you want it.”

  “I like the sound of that. I’m ready to sign anything.” I walk over to the staircase.

  “Hello,” a shrill voice drifts through the partly open basement door.

  “That must be my wife, Donna,” Randy says, breathless as he follows me up the stairs. “She said she might come by.”

  “I’d love to meet her,” I lie. What I want to do is sign the papers and get the hell out of Misty Cove. I open the door and Randy follows me into the hallway, where his wife is already waiting.

  Donna is a pretty blonde, who is at least ten or fifteen years younger than Randy. He must be somewhere in his fifties. She looks like his daughter next to him. What the fuck is she doing with him?

  As soon as I greet her, she starts asking way too many questions. That alone makes me dislike her.

  “I’m so glad you like this cottage. You and your wife will be happy here. It’s the perfect family home. Do you have children?”

  “Not yet,” I answer politely. “But we’re planning to have some in the near future.”

  “Wonderful.” She claps her hands together. You’d think I told her something she had been waiting all year to hear. “Your future kids will feel right at home in this beautiful home.” She pauses. “It once belonged to my grandmother. She left it to us.”

  “Great.” I look at Randy. “I’d like to get the paperwork done, if you don’t mind. I need to get back to my wife.”

  Randy and Donna walk me to their house, which is, sadly, only ten minutes from the cottage. There, they get all the papers ready and I sign on the dotted line.

  They’re both shocked and thrilled when I pay for the house—furniture included—in cash. I refuse to pay any other way.

  “You must really love this place,” Randy barks with laughter.

  “You know I do, Randy. You know I do.” I rise from the green velvet couch. “I better get going. It was nice to meet you both.”

  AS SOON AS I’M BACK in Houston, I head straight to the hospital. Bree’s eyes are still closed; she’s still not back.

  As I watch her chest rising and falling, I’m glad no one is in the room. But I can’t stay long in case someone comes to check up on her.

  “Baby, can you hear me?” I stroke her hand. “I found the perfect new home for us. We’ll be able to start over from scratch. You’ll love our new life, I promise.”

  The sensation of her skin against my thumb makes my groin tingle, then tighten. Even though I want her to wake up, seeing her in a helpless state turns me on.

  Unable to stop myself, I reach under the covers to touch her, sliding my hand into her panties. I miss her. It’s been a while since we made love.

  I pull my hand out again, afraid someone might walk in on me.

  But I’m in desperate need of release, so I step out of the room and go to the bathroom. With the image of her broken, sleeping face in my mind, I come hard.

  Instead of returning to Bree’s room, I leave the hospital and check myself into a motel. I haven’t returned to our house since the night of the accident. Way too risky.

  In the morning, my phone rings before the alarm.

  “What’s up, man? It’s Keith.”

  “Do you have news?”

  “Great news, my friend.” He chuckles. “She’s out of the coma.”

  “She is?” I sit up in bed. “When
did she—”

  “They said it happened last night. The doctor said they want to keep her in the hospital a few more days for observation. What do you want me to do now?”

  “Nothing,” I say, grinning. “Your job is done. Just meet me in the hospital parking lot at midnight so I can pay you the rest of your money.” I can’t let Bree see Keith, a man she has never met before.

  “Good stuff.” Keith coughs. “I’ll be there.”

  I hang up and bury my hands into my hair, warmth spreading through my chest. She’s awake. Maybe she heard me when I spoke to her and wanted to come back to me.

  Shortly before midnight, I drive to the hospital, faster than I have ever driven before. First, I pay Keith his money, then I sneak into the hospital.

  There’s a nurse inside Bree’s room. I wait inside the nearest bathroom for twenty minutes to be sure they have left her for the night.

  When I finally get inside, dressed in a doctor’s uniform I stole from one of the rooms—along with medical supplies I might need—the lights are dim and she’s alone. It’s a good thing I know my way around hospital machines. Within a few seconds, I detach her from the machine that reads her blood pressure and heart rate. Nothing will alert the nurses that something is wrong.

  I don’t waste time thinking or second-guessing anything.

  When I slide my hands underneath her body, she groans softly and opens her eyes, but only for a few seconds before they drift shut again. She’s still too drugged up. It will take a while for her to fully come back to the present. By then, she’ll be all mine again.

  I put her back on the bed and grab a wheelchair that sits neglected on one side of the room. I settle her into it, but she’s so sleepy and weak that she slumps slightly to the side. I do my best to make her comfortable, then I get the hell out before someone sees me.

  On my way to the elevators, I come across a young nurse, but I keep my cool. I give her a nod and keep walking.

  By the time we reach my car, my armpits are drenched with sweat. On my way out of the hospital, I was expecting to be stopped at any moment. But it didn’t happen.