by BL Mute
“If I find out you know, it won’t be pretty,” Mac hisses.
“Anytime you come to see me alone, it isn’t pretty. I couldn’t give a fuck less, Mac.” One last thud sounds out, and then Carter’s door opens and closes.
I stay standing still, the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears, before I reach for the knob. When I turn it and push the door open, it scrapes shards of glass over the carpet, clearing a small path for me to walk.
“Carter?” I say softly, leaping over the small sparkles of glass still wedged in the carpet.
He’s facing the window with his shoulders slumped and his head dipped low. “Go away, Lydia.”
I step closer to him and place my hand on his shoulder. He jerks with the motion, moving away from my touch, and finally turns to face me. When his eyes meet mine, my heart throbs inside my chest. “Carter,” I whisper, reaching up to touch his face.
Blood rolls from his nose, trailing to his lips, all the way down until it drips from his chin. “I said go away.”
I ignore his command and continue moving my hand to touch his face. “What happened?”
The corners of his lips turn up in a sad smile as my palm lands on his cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”
His voice is short and clipped, void of all emotion. I’ve seen a lot of sides of Carter. The asshole side, the sweet, caring side, but never this one. This one is new, and the pain radiating from his eyes penetrates me all the way to my bones and constricts my heart.
Not sure what to do, I drop my hand and turn my back to him. I move back into the bathroom and flip the light on, then grab the rag hanging over the side of the sink. I wet it, then make my way back to him.
Facing him again, I stay silent and raise my hand to pat the blood from his face. He winces, then moves quickly, snapping his hand around my wrist. His fingers dig into my skin painfully, but I don’t jerk away.
“I’m sorry.”
He scoffs. “You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t want your pity, Lydia.”
I tip my head and pull away from his hold. “I am sorry. Sorry he did this to you, and sorry you’re hurting—”
He holds up his hand, silencing me, then steps around me. I want to yell or tell him it’s okay to not be okay, but there is no point. Carter was raised by Malcolm, and to Malcolm, feelings are a weakness.
When I hear him fall onto his bed, I turn and walk back to the doorway. I toss the rag back in the bathroom, then sink to my knees in front of the glass. Grabbing the metal frame, I flip it over and see a scratched-up picture of Carter and his mom. I do my best to remove it without further damage, but the glass still stuck inside the frame makes it difficult. I manage to free it, and I lay it on his nightstand.
I start gathering the broken pieces of glass in my hands, careful not to cut myself. I start with the smallest pieces, picking each and every tiny fragment up I can see.
“Lydia,” he sighs from above me.
“It’s fine. I got this,” I say sharply.
“Lydia,” he tries again.
I close my eyes tightly, trying to ignore the concern in his voice, then open them again and keep working on collecting the glass. “What happened to our secret, Carter?”
I feel his hands on my shoulders first, then his mouth against my hair. “Stop. Now.” He ignores my question.
The sternness in his voice has me forgetting I even asked it and dropping all the pieces I worked so hard to pick up. I keep my eyes locked onto the floor as his arms encircle me and drag me to my feet.
“You shouldn’t have to clean it up, Carter.”
He lets out a breath, the hot air blowing my hair softly. “I’ve been cleaning up his messes since the day my mom died. I’m used to it.”
I shake my head and turn to face him. “It isn’t right.”
“Half this shit in this world isn’t right, but what can we do about it?”
I scrunch my forehead. How can he so easily accept this is his only fate? Like his life isn’t meant to be more than taking shit from Mac. “We could run away.”
He laughs. “You did that already.”
I tip my head. “Going to Pine Hills wasn’t running away.”
“You sure about that? Weren’t you running from something?”
I bite my lip and dart my eyes to the floor. My entire reason for coming to see him tonight seems minuscule compared to what he just dealt with.
“So, who was it?” he asks, forcing me to look back to his face for any indication of what he’s talking about.
“Who?”
He nods. “You don’t just leave town for no reason, Bunny. There is always a who.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I just—” I try and think of some sort of excuse to counter what he’s saying. “I just needed time to get my emotions under control.”
He stares at me for a moment, locking his eyes onto mine. “How do you do it?” He changes the subject.
“What?”
“Act like I can’t see right through you, like I don’t know you. Who was it?”
I shake my head again. “I don’t want you to hate me, Carter.”
He brings his face so close to mine I can smell the blood from his nose. “Why? You already hate me, so let’s make it even.”
“What if I don’t really hate you?” It’s not really a question to him. It’s more to myself.
Like, what if I don’t hate him? What if all of this is just a big lie I keep telling myself the same way I tell myself the stuff with Mac is okay, when I know it isn’t. Or maybe I feel I need to hate him, so I act the way I do on impulse. Without thought.
But you can’t really hate someone who runs through your mind so much, can you? Someone you fantasize about and actually enjoy their company, even if it is back-and-forth banter.
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself by asking that?” He scoffs.
The venom in his words sting, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I just blurt out the only thing I can think. The answer to his previous question. “Malcolm.”
I shoot my eyes back to the floor as his name leaves my lips. For an entire year, I never mumbled his name to anyone. I almost feel a sense of relief to have it in the open, but when I look back to Carter’s eyes, I instantly regret saying it.
Silence envelops us for a beat before he speaks again. “How much?” he grinds out between clenched teeth.
His question catches me off guard. “How much what?”
He shakes his head, then turns and lifts the side of his mattress. He reaches under and pulls out bills stacked in small groups. He feels around, throwing them onto the top of his bed. “How much is he paying you?”
“Wha—”
“Don’t play stupid, Lydia. Everyone who has anything on him gets hush money. So, how much is he paying you?”
I push my hair behind my ears and shrug slightly. “A couple thousand a week, I think.”
“What does he have on you?”
I look back to his face and bite my lip. I haven’t told anyone the truth about why I left Bexley Falls or what happened the day my dad died. I feel disgusted and embarrassed and even more ashamed I’ve let it continue this long.
“I tried to blackmail him.” I tell him half of the truth.
He nods slowly. “Why?”
“My dad wanted to sell the club. He couldn’t do that without Malcolm’s signature.”
“Okay, but what do you have on him, then?”
“I just want your help, Carter,” I admit, and it’s the truest thing I’ve said tonight.
He laughs again. “Then don’t bullshit me. What do you have on him?”
I think of a way to come clean that won’t make everything sound as bad as it really is, but what’s the point? “We slept together, and I recorded it.”
I watch his face as he takes in everything I’m saying. I can see the wheels turning in his head, but he doesn’t mumble any other questions.
“It was before he was with my mom,” I add, feeling the nee
d to clarify that. Like if by any means that would make any of this better.
“You were a minor.” He finally speaks, breaking his silence, and I nod in response. “So, you slept with him and recorded it, then tried to blackmail him, and now what? How does that even correlate with what’s happening now. And what exactly is happening now?” His eyes fall into narrow slits as he stares at me.
I suck in a deep breath, zip my spine straight, and then answer his question. “I did a lot of shit I don’t want my mom knowing when I was in Pine Hills, and he knows about it—has evidence to back it up. So, he wants me to sleep with him to keep my secrets and pay me not to share the recording I have.”
“And have you… slept with him?” he retorts.
I nod, not wanting to voice anymore of my disgusting secrets.
He nods like he already knew the answer but need a solid yes or no of some sort from me. “Why don’t you just come clean? Tell everyone what really happened.”
I shake my head. “You don’t think I’ve thought of that? I can tell the truth and hope for the best, but who is going to believe me once he shows what he has? I’d look like nothing more than a whore and junkie. It’ll be his word against mine, and considering who he is, everyone would believe him, and I don’t want to hurt my mom that way. I’ve always been her doting daughter. I don’t want her to look at me differently.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say? Everything running through my mind is stuff you’ve probably already thought. Go to bed, and we will figure it out tomorrow.” He waves his hand in the direction of my door.
“You’re going to help me?”
A bewildered smirk tugs the corners of his lips up. “That’s what you want, right? My help.”
“I mean, yeah. I just didn’t think it would be that easy. What am I going to owe you now?”
The thought of getting myself into another agreement with yet another McLane man kind of scares me. If Carter is anything like his father—which I’m sure he is—this could end just as badly.
“You don’t owe me shit, Lydia. The satisfaction of pissing my dad off by helping you is enough.”
I nod, hoping like hell that’s true. “Why do you hate him so much?”
He shakes his head slowly. “That’s like asking why the sky is blue. Just go to bed.”
I don’t understand his statement, but I don’t stick around in fear he’ll change his mind, so I do as he says and pad back into my room, then fall into my bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CARTER
My door swings open slowly, but luckily, he doesn’t enter fully. With my curtains closed and my room dark, all I can see is the silhouette of his figure standing in the doorway. “Get dressed and come downstairs.” He steps out just as quickly as he came in.
I look to the screen on my phone and see it’s already 8:00 a.m. Normally I would feel recharged after sleeping this late, but not today. After Lydia left my room last night, all I could think of are ways to get her out of the situation she’s in. And even worse, images of made-up scenarios between her and my dad wouldn’t stop flipping through my mind.
How does he fuck her? Does she moan his name and beg for his cock? Does he give her the kind of ecstasy she deserves—the kind I know she craves? And most importantly… does she like it?
Thinking about Mac with someone is disgusting all on its own, but knowing he’s been with Lydia makes me feel some type of way. I liked her when we were kids because she was fun. But as we grew up, I realized I liked her more than a friend. Now though, I’m not sure if it’s her alone or the fact I know what I’m doing is forbidden in a sense, but I want her.
I want all of her.
I roll out of my bed and throw on a T-shirt from my floor, then step out. Once I make it to the hallway, I see Lydia coming out of her door, but I don’t stop. I start down the stairs and stop once I make it to the bottom and see Mac and Claire standing by the door with their suitcases.
“We have to meet with a new investor for the country club. We’ll be gone for a few days, but your schedules for work are updated, and our tab is open. You can either eat here or at the club after work,” Mac says, shooting his eye behind me to Lydia as she descends.
“Investor?” Lydia questions behind me.
“Yes,” Claire responds. “It’s the owner of a new champagne line they’d like us to stock. We have to go discuss numbers.”
“Okay. So how long is a few days?”
“Three or four. I’ll keep you updated.” She walks from the door past me and leans in to kiss Lydia’s forehead. “Stay out of trouble, okay?”
Lydia laughs. “You know I will.”
“And that goes for you too, Carter,” Mac says, drawing my attention to him. His eyes narrow as his jaw tics.
“Yep.” I salute, and they walk out the door.
You can hear the low humming of their car pulling out of the drive until the sound disappears completely, letting me know they’re gone.
“So, what’s the plan?”
I turn and face Lydia. It almost pains me to look at her because all my mind can focus on is those images it made up of her and Mac. “Plan for what? We go to work and do what we have to do.”
“That’s it? Are we acting like the discussion we had last night didn’t happen?” She props her hand on her hip as her face morphs into frustration.
“No. I’d just like to make sure they’re really gone before we have this discussion.”
“Oh.” Her face falls.
“Don’t worry, I have an idea,” I try to reassure her. “We’ll talk about it after work.”
I leave her standing at the bottom of the stairs as I head back to my room to get ready.
“Do you want to ride with me?” I ask, exiting my room.
Lydia looks me up and down like she’s weighing her options before she finally answers. “Yeah, we can talk.”
I nod and sweep my hand in front of me, letting her start down the stairs first. I follow her through the house, all the way to the kitchen, then slip into the garage behind her. I hit the button on my fob and unlock the doors. We sink into the car quietly, and it stays that way as we back out of the garage and roll onto the road.
I don’t want to be the first one to speak because I’m not even sure where to start. The more I let my mind wander, the more my anger festers, and I don’t want to take that out on her. Sure, all of this is kind of her fault, but at the same time, I know how Mac is, and I’m sure he’s more to blame than her.
He’s intimidating as fuck, and no one wants to cross him in any way. It doesn’t take a genius to pick that up.
“Care to enlighten me on this plan you have?” she finally asks.
“We’re going to need Carmen.” I start with the easiest step. Since Carmen is Lydia’s friend, I’m sure she won’t have a problem helping.
“For what?” She crosses her arms across her chest and looks out the window.
“We need her little techy boyfriend.”
“Bradley?”
“That’s the one.”
She scoffs and shakes her head. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” I try to keep the annoyance in my voice low.
“Because I don’t want to drag any more people into this than there already is.”
“Wait.” I glance in her direction, then back to the road. “Carmen doesn’t know?” I see her shake her head from the corner of my eye, and I laugh. “That’s going to have to change.”
I don’t say it out loud, but something I assume is pride builds in my chest. Out of all the people in the world, she told me her dirty little secret. She didn’t even tell the girl she claims to be her best friend. Nope. Only me, and for some reason, that makes me feel good.
I turn at the next road I see, then use a driveway to start back in the direction of our house.
She straightens in her seat. “What are you doing?”
“You
’re going to go see Carmen, then come to work. She needs to know, so break the news to her now so when we need her, it isn’t such a shock.”
“I don’t want her to know, Carter.”
“And I don’t care,” I spit back.
When I see the pain in her eyes, I suck in a deep breath, then release it and get my emotions back in check. “Do you trust me?”
She squints at me, then answers honestly. “I don’t know.”
I nod. “Look, I’m going to make sure you can walk away from this completely clean, but you have to tell Carmen. Unless you’re up for seducing Bradley into loving you within days.”
“Fine. But you have to tell me why.”
As I turn down the road I know leads to Carmen’s house, I slow the car and look at her again. “We need him to plant some things on Mac’s computer. Don’t worry about what yet. Just tell Carmen, and I’ll explain everything else later.”
“He’s going to be pissed I missed work.”
“I’ll handle it.” I stop the car in front of Carmen’s and jut my chin toward her door. “Just come finish out your shift when you’re done here.”
She inhales deeply through her nose as she opens the door. “If this backfires, I swear…” She trails off.
“Trust me, Bunny.” She rolls her eyes and slams the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LYDIA
As I hear him pull away behind me, the anxiety of what I’m about to do hits me. Carmen is my best friend and has been ever since I can remember, but what if she looks at me differently? What if she judges me? Coming from her, it would be hypocritical, but it’s still a fear in my head. I’ve kept this shit to myself for a reason.
When I make it to her door, I hit the button and wait. Within seconds, William opens the door with a smile. “Miss Lydia. We weren’t expecting you.”
I nod. “I know. I was just stopping by to see Carmen for a second.”
He dips his head and sweeps his arm in front of him, inviting me inside.
When the door clicks closed behind me, I make my way upstairs and down the hall to her room. I knock lightly, waiting for her response, but when one doesn’t come, I push open her door and step inside. I can see her figure curled up in a ball on her bed. I smile softly and step in further until I’m at the edge of her bed.
