by Holly Hart
The glass comes back, and I drink that down, too, guzzle till my stomach’s sloshing. Might be my imagination, but...the world’s sharpening up. I can see the lines...the grout...between the tiles. I can remember words again. Words, and a sense of urgency—need to get out of here.
“Help me up?”
Lily’s holding me, pulling me from behind. A dull pain spreads over my ribs. That’s helping, too. Something to focus on: an anchor point. My legs find purchase on the slippery floor, and I finally draw myself up. The cold’s in my bones—I’ll never be warm again.
“Can you walk? Far enough to catch a cab?”
“Think so.” My tongue’s stopped feeling five sizes too big for my mouth. Down to more like...two. “Don’t think they’ll let me on. All...wet and bloody.”
Lily slaps me one more time and turns off the shower. “Back to your room first—and don’t you dare fall down on me.”
“I won’t.” I might be sick, or say something stupid, but my feet are doing what they’re supposed to do. Carrying me, dripping, across the hall. To the closet—and how am I supposed to work all these buttons? Tie my tie?—my belt, my socks...?
“Sit.”
Under better circumstances, I’d love this. Lily dressing me, smoothing my socks over my ankles. Doing up my buttons with deft hands. Tying my tie—round her own neck first, then over my head. She even finds my cufflinks on the nightstand and twists them into place. By the time she’s done, I feel almost human again: hazy at the edges and sore round the middle, but aware. Somewhere near alert.
“Ready to go?”
I nod. “Where?”
Lily chews her lip. “I.... Let’s just go. We’ll figure it out on the way.”
No one pays much mind to our headlong flight. We’re nearly running by the time we clear the lobby, but the night clerk barely glances our way. There’s a cab already waiting, and we stumble into it. Lily drapes something warm over my shoulders—a blanket. She’s stolen a blanket...for me.
“Thanks.”
She brushes my hair back from my forehead and helps me buckle my seat belt. “Try to sleep. It’ll be a long ride.”
Last thing I hear is an address I don’t recognize, and I’m sinking into sleep—the real, deep kind that comes after the longest of nights.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lily
“So you brought him here?” Mark’s looking at me, disbelieving.
“We’re not staying. We just need....” I cringe inwardly. This is going to sound bad, no matter how I put it. “We need to borrow your lake house. And your truck. Please.”
He throws up his hands. “Oh, that’s all? You stand there with your mouth gaping open, let Wayne toss me under the bus—but, sure. Why not? Take your crazy boyfriend to the beach. Have yourself a vacation. What do I care?”
“Wait! I didn’t!” I shove my foot in the door. It slams on my toes instead of in my face. “Please—I can prove it. All I need is ten minutes. Five.”
Mark takes his hand off the door. “You got five seconds. Convince me.”
I dig in my purse and pull out Schenck’s card. “Here. Our new lawyer. I saw him yesterday. He’s going after Wayne—or his accountant is.”
“Go on.” He still looks pissed, but he’s reaching for the card.
“Not just Wayne. The label, too. We’re getting out of our contract, and when we sign a new one, you’re our drummer. Not Jake. Not anyone else. I was going to tell you, but Wayne caught me off guard, and.... You have to believe me. I’d never—”
Mark pulls me into a long, tight hug. A weight slides off my heart. I take a deep breath, and another, limp with relief.
“Sorry I called you a coward.”
“Sorry I was one, for so long.”
After a long moment, Mark lets me go. “And this guy? He okay?” He’s eyeing Brandon, tight-lipped.
“Wayne’s the violent one. Brandon tried to defend me. And he wasn’t jumping off any bridge.” I’m getting worked up again. Can’t shake the image of him standing on that bridge, no way out. “The whole thing—it was a setup.”
“By who?”
I shake my head. “Can’t drag you into this. Not more than I already have. Trust me—you don’t want to know.”
Mark looks up and down the street. No one’s watching. “What are you going to do?”
“Thought we’d lie low till we figure that out. If anyone comes... If we get caught, I’ll say I stole your truck. I won’t let it come back on you.”
“I know you won’t.” Mark ruffles my hair affectionately. “You wanna come in for a while? Have some coffee? Mom would love to see you.”
I’d like to, but.... “We can’t. The cops....”
He raises a brow. “You guys got money? Food? Anything besides the clothes on your backs?”
Not really. Fuck.
“I do.” Brandon digs into his pocket and comes up with a handful of bills I hadn’t noticed him stuffing them in there. “Enough for a few days. If we haven’t figured out what to do by then, we’re screwed, anyway.”
“You need me to come along? Extra pair of eyes?”
I back away—that can’t happen. “You’re doing enough. More than enough. Don’t give your mom a heart attack.”
“But—”
“A couple of hours from now, you need to report your truck stolen. And if anyone asks—”
“Okay, okay—I never saw you.”
“Perfect.”
Mark flips me the keys. I take Brandon’s hand, and I’m reminded of better times: running across the lawn behind the Four Seasons, the day we went out on the river. He barely made it to the riverbank, but he did it for me. Made our escape from Wayne fun instead of horrifying.
I help him into the truck and get behind the wheel. “How are you holding up?”
“Feels like that one time I tried Ambien.” He laughs. “Except, I didn’t actually sleep on that. Spent the whole night wandering around my place, touching random crap. Towels, forks, the pages of books.... Hey, were you on TV this morning? Or last night? Wearing that?” He points at my choker.
He saw that? I knew he would, eventually, but...why isn’t he mad? “What Wayne said—”
Brandon cuts me off with a hand on my knee. “Wasn’t listening to that. I was... I sat down for a moment, to figure out what to do, and I’d probably have sat there all night, sat there till they came for me, if I hadn’t seen your face. It was like...like you looked right at me, like come to me. It’ll be okay. And I got up and went across the hall. Knew you’d be there.”
“Brandon....”
“It’s like you’re always there. When I need you. You were even... You were singing when my plane went down. My favorite song, maybe. Guiding me back to earth.”
“Shit, you’re stoned.”
He chortles like a fool. “In my head, I’m making perfect sense. I could make you a slideshow. With PowerPoint.”
“I’m going to remind you you said that, when you’re sober.”
“As long as you don’t make me...actually do it. ‘Cause I’ve never used PowerPoint.”
Idiot.... “Go back to sleep.”
He rests his head on the window and closes his eyes. I don’t hate this silly, unfiltered version of him, but I hope he’s back to normal when he wakes up. I still have a million questions, and we need a plan, like, yesterday.
Chapter Forty
Brandon
I wake to the sound of lapping waves. The sun’s beating down on the lake, so bright I can barely look, but I’m safe in the shade of a willow tree, sprawled out on a red canvas chair. There’s a straw hat hanging over my face.
Fragments of last night flit into focus: a freezing shower. A hazy drive toward the sunrise. A shadow over my bed—a nightmare come to life. I sit up so fast my head spins—did I kill him? I couldn’t have. He was breathing when I left, great raspy wheezes. Bloody spittle across my shirt. Across my face. Surely, they found him in time.
I look down at myself: n
o blood now. A crisp, clean shirt—I remember now. Lily dressing me. Doing up my belt when my fingers wouldn’t obey.
The breeze off the lake smells good: fresh and clean. I kick off my shoes and socks and walk out on the pier. There’s a rope at the end, still attached to a scuttled rowboat. The water’s so clear I can see the battered hull at the bottom of the lake, a couple of bluegills nosing around it. I sit down and dangle my feet over the side.
It’s not long before I hear another set of feet approaching. Lily sits down next to me, leaning up against my side. “Back in the land of the living?”
“Mm.” I let my head rest against hers. She must’ve been outside a while: her hair’s warm from the sun.
“You look better. Less zombie-like.”
“Thanks...I think?” I feel better. More like myself. My thoughts have stopped turning into other thoughts halfway through. “Whose place is this?”
“Mark’s—don’t you remember? We stopped by his mom’s.”
Mark. Right. Angry guy. Yelled at Lily, then hugged her. It’s all coming back to me now: Mark, my midnight flight from the hospital, collapsing in that deckchair and refusing to budge. Lily feeding me aspirin. Dropping a hat over my face when the sun started beating down. I pull up my pant leg, where it’s hanging in the water. Across the inlet, a long-legged bird picks its way through the shallows, stabbing its beak into the mud.
“They won’t look for us here. Not for a couple of days.”
A faint alarm sounds in my head. I sit up a little straighter. “I shouldn’t stay. I’m painting a target on your back, being near you.”
“So I should let you leave with a target on yours? Nowhere to go, no one to turn to?” Lily’s hand slips under my waistcoat, possessive fingers bunching in my shirt. “And then what? Where would you go?”
To the police, I suppose—and straight back to the psych ward. Or to prison. Where I’d be a sitting duck. “I’d....”
“Yeah?
I shrug. Nothing else comes to mind. My plane’s gone. My credit cards’ll be flagged by now. And Neil’s done a number on my reputation. Anyone I call, anyone I reach out to.... “Why are you doing this? I mean, why don’t you think I’m crazy?”
Lily looks at me like I really have lost my mind. “I’ve been with you all week. Half of what they’re saying can’t be true. The other half doesn’t make sense.” A faint smile crinkles her eyes.
“This is all going to work out. You’ll see.”
“How?”
“All we need is one lie we can prove. One detail we can point to and say this never happened, and here’s why.” Her eyes are bright with excitement, both hands gripping my shirt. “The rest of it won’t hold up to the light. You’ll see. It’s like me, on stage: the lights, the makeup, the costume—all together, it’s convincing. You see the devil, some metal goddess—whatever you want to see. But take away one element, just one, the whole illusion crumbles.”
“So...you got something in mind? Some string we can pull, to topple the whole house of cards?”
“Not yet. But I will. We will.” She steals a kiss, lips sweet with coffee and cream. One hand sneaks under my shirt, light fingers walking up my spine. I succumb easily to the distraction, lifting her into my lap. She’s wearing a short red-and-white dress, layered silk, buttoned down the front. The top button’s undone already, and I lean in to taste her sun-warmed skin, just above the collarbone.
Her hand sneaks between my legs, finding me already half-hard. “You are feeling better....”
I dip her back till the ends of her hair trail in the water. She tilts her head back, relaxed. Trusting me not to drop her. I unhook another couple of buttons, revealing her white lace bra. She rocks her hips, slow and lazy, filling me with a frantic kind of energy, somewhere between heat and desperation.
I flinch as she reaches for my belt buckle. “Someone might see....”
“Who?”
The lake’s serene and still, deserted as far as the eye can see. A house peeks through the trees on the opposite shore, still shuttered for the off-season.
Lily pulls herself up, straddling my lap. I slide my hands under her skirt, holding her steady as she undresses me with as much care as she dressed me, short hours ago. Her lips graze my neck; her wet hair trails chilly lines down my chest. I shiver, and her tongue darts out to flick my nipple. Her fingers find their way between my teeth, and I bite at them, tasting sugar and coffee beans, bitter and sweet and salty underneath.
I tuck a stray curl behind her ear. She’s soft all over: her cheek, her hair, her wandering hands. I don’t want to rush it this time. Want to commit her to memory, every curve, every dimple, the way she moves, the calm rise and fall of her chest.
Her dress falls away as I undo the last of her buttons. She tosses it on the growing pile and stands tall in just her underwear. For a moment, she gazes out over the lake; then she dives. Her body slices through the water, all long limbs and dappled sunlight. She surfaces a few feet from the pier, smiling. “Well? Coming in?”
I don’t need a second invitation. I wriggle out of my pants and ease myself off the pier. The water’s bracing, the memory of winter trapped in the depths, but my body soon adjusts. I swim up behind her and cradle her to my chest. She stretches out in my arms, letting me hold her head above the surface.
“You’re the first to understand,” she murmurs, reaching up to cup my chin. “It’s not pain I want, or cruelty. It’s this.” She trails her free hand along the water’s surface, leaving a spray of bubbles in her wake. “Safety, in your arms. Knowing I could tell you to do anything you want—anything at all—and you’d do it for me. Make it good.”
“Pain or pleasure... If it isn’t good, what’s the point?” I follow her inner thigh with my palm, kneading and caressing. She melts for my touch, spreading her legs with a sigh. Hungry for more, I turn her to face me. Her wet hair clings to my shoulders. I lean in, savoring the brush of hard nipples through lace, nails on the back of my leg, a sharp nip to my wrist. The drag of my cock against her belly has me thrusting against her, wanting her already.
I trail one finger down her arm, barely touching, and watch her skin break out in gooseflesh. She trembles and arches her back. I lap at her earlobe and exhale, to make her shudder. Her hand tightens on the back of my neck.
“Pain or pleasure... Which should I give you?”
Lily holds her breath, lips parted, eyes closed. Waiting to see which I’ll choose.
I pinch her nipple through her bra. A quick, sharp twist has her bucking against me, moaning my name. I push the lace aside and ease the reddened skin with my tongue. She squirms for that, too, grinding against my cock. I let her, eyes fixed on her face. I take in every whimper, every moan, every change in expression. She tilts her head back and gasps, eyes half-closed.
I snake my hand between her legs, thumbing her slit through her panties. She moves with me, one leg hooked around my waist. One hand’s in my hair, the other down my briefs, teasing my cock with long, loose strokes—just enough to keep me panting for her, without sending me over the edge. I bask in the ache of being denied, the heat growing in my belly. I can tell she’s holding back, too, bringing herself close on my fingers over and over again, wetness streaking her thighs.
The sun dips toward the horizon, dazzling on the water. Lily shifts away from it, shielding her eyes. “We should go inside. Fuck on Mark’s bed.”
“We’re all wet....”
“So?” Lily’s already swimming for the shallows. I follow, chasing her up the narrow strip of beach. We leave sandy footprints on the flagstones, and across the glassed-in porch. Place looks like an Anthropologie ad, all blond wood and filmy white curtains. Lily runs past a glacier-white couch, through a pair of French doors, and throws herself down on a snowy four-poster.
“Who decorated this place?”
“Mark. He saw Gwyneth Paltrow’s old apartment. Thinks white equals sophisticated. Now, he’s like...the Bloody Mary police, whenever he has a part
y. We going to discuss the furniture?”
“No....” I open the nightstand—whitewashed pine—and pull out a box of Magnums. “He’ll know if we take one.”
“So we’ll take them all. And replace the box. Or not. He is rich.”
“Thief.” But I’m the one ripping open the box.
Lily pulls me down and climbs on top. I hold her steady as she guides me inside. The reflection of the water ripples over her torso as she rides me hard. I watch, mesmerized, almost forgetting to move. Her hair gleams reddish in the dying light. Already, I can see a hint of blond growing back.
I’m gentle with her this time, fitting one hand over the faint bruises I left on her hip. The other I let drift, following the curve of her thigh, the hollow of her hip. Anything more, it’d be over too fast for both of us. I hold tight to the moment, biting the back of my hand to keep the pleasure at bay.
At last, Lily rolls onto her back, pulling me on top of her. She guides my hand to her hair, tangling my fingers in her wet locks. “Pin me down; finish it like that.”
I push her other wrist above her head and put my weight on it, driving into her hard. Lily gasps and arches, legs coming up to pull me in deeper. I give her what she wants, quick, hard thrusts, hot breath on her neck, skin against skin. I feel her clench around my cock, dragging my own orgasm out of me as the sun vanishes behind the trees.
I shiver as the glow fades, cold water trickling down my neck. Reluctantly, I pull out, sinking into the mattress beside her. The light’s fading fast. I reach for the bedside lamp.
“They’re in cahoots now. Wayne and Neil.”
“Hm?” I blink in the dim light, pulling the coverlet over us both.
“The press conference last night—you might not remember.”
Press conference.... I grope for the memory. “You were on TV. You didn’t say anything.” Wayne was there, too—I remember that. What he might’ve said, though.... “Neil was there?”
“Not personally, no. He talked Wayne into it—telling the world you assaulted him. Seduced me.”
