Good Lies (A Wild Minds Novel)

by Charlotte West

  “I fucking woke up this morning and there were four condoms in the toilet. What was I supposed to do?” Lix yelled, still outside the bathroom door. His voice lowered, addressing only me. “Anyway, Ads. We’ve been peeing in the sink.” I took a long look at the sink. I’d just brushed my teeth. Gross.

  “Thanks,” I said. Because what else could I say? “I’ll figure it out.”

  “We’re going to stop soon and fix it. And if you have to go number two you can go then too.”

  Face palm. I stood, pulled up my pants and turned the shower on.

  “Don’t shit in the sink,” Ash yelled.

  I found it best just to ignore them. In the shower, I washed my hair and managed a quick shave using one of the guy’s razors. I even trimmed up ‘down there,’ having a little laugh that one of the boys might shave their face with the same razor. Both my elbows were probably bruised from being knocked around so much. I hadn’t known the highway had speed bumps. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

  Stepping from the shower, I cursed myself. I didn’t have any clean clothes. The thought of putting back on my jeans and T-shirt from yesterday made me want to vomit again. Wrapping a towel around myself, I poked my head out of the bathroom. The curtain to the main cabin was open, but nobody was paying attention to me. The towel was a little on the short side, and by short I mean half of my dimpled ass was hanging out. I considered calling to Warren to demand clothes, but that would just draw attention to my near-naked state. I’d have to make a run for it.

  I slipped through the door and was just jumping over the threshold of the bedroom when Lix yelled out. “Hey, Addy! What do you get when you cross a donkey and an onion?” Brief pause. “A piece of ass that’ll bring a tear to your eye.”

  My cheeks burned. I slammed the door shut on Warren reprimanding Lix. “Don’t look at my woman’s ass, shit stain.”

  I rifled through the dresser and found a pair of Warren’s sweatpants and a Wild Minds T-shirt. I dropped my towel. The water droplets on my body felt like tiny ice pellets. Warren walked into the room, shutting the door. I hit the floor, plucking the towel back up and hastily covering all my bits and pieces. “A little privacy,” I said.

  Warren grinned. Lying down on the bed, he crossed his ankles and stretched his arms behind his head. He’d gotten dressed and wore a grey T-shirt and the same jeans as yesterday. The T-shirt hiked up, revealing his happy trail. I licked my lips.

  “I used to love watching you get dressed. It was one of my favorite pastimes. I don’t see any reason to deprive myself now. Do me a favor and go slow,” he said, voice dropping in a sexy way.

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m not here for your entertainment.”

  “The deal we made an hour ago says otherwise.”

  “Get out.”

  “You welshing already, baby?” He shimmied his phone out of his pocket. “I guess I could just give Billy a call. I’d bet he’d be interested in hearing all about you denying me my husbandly rights.”

  “You’re a dick.”

  He shrugged his big shoulders. “That may be true.”

  “You won’t call Billy.” At least, I didn’t think he would.

  “You want to find out?”

  A fraction of an inch, I lowered the towel, revealing the tops of my breasts.

  My chest heaved with my deep breaths. The phone in Warren’s hand dropped to the bed. His eyes zeroed in on the patch of flesh I’d just revealed. My nipples hardened into little peaks. Warren liked to be in charge, and it always turned me on. Did it make me a sadist, loving this degradation? “You won’t call him,” I said. Warren wanted to humiliate me, like I’d done to him by leaving him in Rome. He wanted his pound of flesh from me. If he called Billy and outed us, he’d never get satisfaction.

  “No.” His voice was a rusty blade. “I won’t.”

  “Warren—”

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you go back on our deal. Now show me what I’ve been missing.”

  My hands flexed on the towel. All I had to do was let go, a thought only slightly more terrifying than jumping from a plane with no parachute.

  He gave me a look. “You scared, Addy? Scared you might like it just a little too much?” He always had an uncanny ability to read me. “I remember you liked it when we fucked in public places. Remember the time we got naked in that mall in Moscow?” he taunted me.

  My entire body flushed.

  Of course I remembered Moscow. We’d visited a famous shopping center. I’d tried on skimpy dresses for Warren until he couldn’t take it. He shoved me back into the dressing room, bent me over the mirror and made me watch while he worked behind me.

  Warren continued. “Or maybe you don’t want me to see your body. Maybe you’ve changed. Don’t worry if you filled out a little more—I’ll like it. I guaran-fucking-tee I’ll like it.” My grip on the towel lightened. He rose and sat at the edge of the bed, right in front of me, so I was nestled between his legs. His eyes were level with my breasts. “Go ahead, baby. I’m ready.”

  The towel slipped from my grip. Right in broad daylight, I was naked in front of Warren. Every curve, every freckle, every flaw of my body exposed.

  Gooseflesh rose where his hands grasped my waist. “Let me look at you.” I was frozen in his stare. His gaze, the way it worshipped me, as if I was the temple and he the priest. What a heady feeling. What a powerful emotion. His eyes flickered from my lips, to my neck, to my breasts and finally to my most private region. “I have to admit, I was worried we might have a hairy situation.” An amused noise escaped my mouth. Warren grinned. “But it’s just as I remembered. Better than I remembered.” He bent, placing a warm kiss on the soft skin of my belly.

  Everything inside me quivered. “I thought you were just going to watch me dress.” Why did I sound so out of breath?

  He let me go and sat back. My body protested. I wanted to straddle him, kiss my way down his happy trail until I found the only thing that could ever satisfy me. Suddenly I was very cold. “You’re right.” He adjusted his very obvious erection. “When we’re together again I want us to be alone. And I want us to have all night. Once I start touching you I’m not going to be able to stop.” He settled back on the bed. “Still going to watch you get dressed though.”

  We stared at each other for a moment. Me, naked and vulnerable. Warren, fully clothed and looking every inch the conqueror. My face blazed to life. I was wrong. I didn’t have any power. In this relationship, Warren held all the cards. I drew a deep sigh and pulled on my clothes, my heart feeling as if it’d been run over.

  The smell of coffee lured me from the bedroom and into the kitchen. A fresh pot had just been brewed. After pouring myself a cup of straight black, inky goodness, I sat at the table.

  Thankfully, the bus ride had smoothed out and I didn’t suffer any spillage. Closing my eyes, I took a long sip, savoring the bitter flavor. Thanks to Warren’s water and pills before bedtime, my hangover was no more than a dull headache. One strong cup of coffee and the tequila, barfing and dehydration would be a thing of the past.

  The seat beneath me buckled under someone’s weight. Opening my eyes, I saw Lix had invaded my space. He slung an arm around my shoulders, jostling me. “So you and War, huh? Back together, just like old times.”

  “Careful with her neck, mate. She’s not fully healed yet.” Murse Kelly seated himself across from me. “How’s the hangover?” Not fair—my Scottish nurse looked good enough to eat, while I looked like death warmed over.

  I rubbed my temples. “Almost gone.”

  “And your neck?” he asked.

  I smiled over the rim of my mug before taking another drink. “The same.”

  “Would you like me to rub it for you?”

  I opened my mouth to refuse his offer but Warren spoke first. “If she needs someone to rub her neck. I’ll do it.” He stood at the foot of the table, doing a sweep of our seating arrangement. His eyes paused on me and then jumped to Lix, whose arm was
still anchored firmly around me. Warren’s stare hardened to a glare.

  Lix smiled, cautiously, withdrawing his arm from the seatback. “I think I’d be more comfortable sitting over there.” The bassist vacated the seat. Warren’s eyes followed Lix as he settled into one of the swiveling armchairs at the front of the bus.

  Warren sat next to me, his big body pressed up against mine. We were thigh to thigh and arm to arm. Then his arm was going around my shoulders, and his hand clamped down on my neck. His hold was tight and pinching. It loosened and pinched again. “Ouch,” I cried, batting his hand away. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m massaging your neck. It’s making you feel better.”

  “That hurt.” I rubbed the spot. My poor, abused neck. “It felt like an eagle was trying to take me back to its nest.”

  Kelly guffawed into his coffee cup.

  I was glad someone found it funny.

  “Maybe you just need to toughen up a little,” Warren groused.

  One of the many problems in our relationship: Warren didn’t take criticism well. Also, nothing was ever his fault. Case in point. ’Nuff said.

  “Maybe you should learn the difference between a massage and a monkey bite,” I shot back at him. Warren’s mouth dropped open and his eyes flashed.

  “Jesus, I’d rather have my ass impaled by a giant cactus than listen to you two bicker.” Ash’s voice came from the sofa. He was lying down. Only the top of his closely shaved head was visible to me.

  A Radical Fish song started to play, filling the bus with the sounds of a banjo and keyboard.

  Warren’s attention darted from me to Derren, sitting in the swivel armchair opposite Lix. “D, I told you to stop playing that shit. I fucking hate that band.”

  Derren glanced up from his phone. “Ain’t me, bro.”

  The song stopped. And then started again. “It’s my phone.” I nudged Warren. But he didn’t move. I pushed at him.

  Scowling, he reached across the little kitchen and snatched my purse from the counter. He dropped it front of me. I dug through and found my ringing phone.

  Billy’s name flashed across the screen. “Hey, Billy,” I answered, going for a light, breezy tone.

  “Little bird.” He sounded relieved. “I’ve been calling all morning.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been sleeping. I just woke up.”

  The conversation lulled, each of us waiting for the other to break the silence. Remember how stubborn we both could be? Warren’s arm stretched behind me. His fingers grazed my neck. This time instead of a painful bite, all I felt was tenderness. I stared at the faux marble table, tracing the lines with my eyes.

  “Are we okay?” Billy asked. I hated that he sounded so unsure, so tentative, and that I was responsible for it. I was hurting and when I’d lashed out, I had hurt Billy. Daisy too.

  “Yeah,” I said, though it didn’t feel that way. I resolved we would be. I’d make sure of it.

  “And the baby? You on board with that?”

  I took a deep breath. Warren’s fingers dipped under the collar of my shirt and the warmth from his hand spread though me. “Sure. I’m happy for you and Daisy. Really,” I said, trying to convince myself more than him. One huge inhale. “But I was thinking, it might be good for you and Daisy if you had some time alone when we get to L.A.” This was how it all started—lying to my father, sneaking around with Warren, eventual heartbreak. What was it they said about history? Oh, yeah, it’s bound to repeat itself.

  “Bird—”

  Disagreement was all over his tone. Before he could voice any more of it, I went on, “And you know it might be good for me too. Give me a chance to sort things out.”

  “You saying you don’t want to stay with us?”

  I felt numb. My throat had turned to dust. “Yep, that’s what I’m saying.”

  Silence. He huffed out a breath. “All right, if that’s what you want. Do me a favor though?”

  “Sure.” I took a sip of coffee. The liquid scalded my throat. Ah, the numbness dissipated, but bad feelings settled in my gut. Guilt and shame. I knew the twin emotions all too well. My constant companions.

  “You call Daisy, make things right with her. She’s distraught thinking you hate her.”

  The cup in my hand shook. “I could never hate her.”

  “Just your old man, right?”

  “I don’t hate you either, Billy.” The words came out flat, unconvincing.

  “This new baby, it won’t take your place, you know. You’ll always be my little bird.”

  “Thanks for saying that.”

  “I know I’ve fucked up in the past, but this is my chance to do it differently. And I want you to help me. I was thinking, you graduate next year. Maybe you could move home for a time. Daisy would love it. So would I. You can get to know your brother or sister.”

  “That’s a nice offer. I’ll think about it.” There was no possible way that would ever happen. It was one thing to support Billy and his new family from afar, but living with them? No. No way in hell. I wouldn’t watch them play house. I wouldn’t bear witness to the life I had missed. My mother hadn’t wanted me. And Billy… he loved me, but I’d always felt like a burden. I cramped his style. Having a kid was so not rock ’n’ roll, not at all. Time to end this conversation. “Hey, Billy, I gotta go. The bus is stopping. I think we’re going to have breakfast.”

  “Will you ride with us to Portland?”

  I looked at Warren. His gaze roved over my face, concerned and empathetic. My stomach contracted. I could deal with arrogant Warren, asshole Warren, even sexy Warren, but sweet Warren? I shuffled away from him as much as I could manage, pressing myself against the window. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just catch up with you there.”

  “We’re still having family dinner,” Billy insisted. “And that boyfriend of yours is going to come and pay his respects to your old man.”

  Arguing with Billy was futile. “Sure, whatever you want. See you soon.”

  “See you soon, little bird.”

  I hung up the phone. The bus slowed to a halt in the parking lot of a truck stop. A sign in front of the truck stop announced it was home to Abby’s world-famous pies.

  “So Billy’s having a baby,” Warren stated slowly and loudly.

  I blinked at him. The whole bus had heard.

  “Wanks knocked up the nanny?” Ash sat up. He was still wearing the same clothes from last night, a pair of black faded jeans and a long-sleeved Henley.

  “Thanks a lot, War. Nobody knew yet,” I snapped.

  Warren’s hand went to my knee then traveled up my thigh. He squeezed. “Sorry. The guys won’t say anything.”

  “Yeah, Addy. We won’t tell. Your secret is safe with us. We’ve never told anyone you and War are married,” Lix said, crossing his heart. He stood at the front of the bus on the stairs.

  “Move it, asshole. I have to hit the head.” Derren pushed past him.

  “I’ve got to go, too.” Kelly stood from the booth and exited the bus. Ash followed suit, leaving just Warren and me.

  “They won’t tell anyone,” War reassured me. He kissed the tip of my ear and then my neck. “C’mon,” he said, drawing me up from the dining table bench. “If you’re nice, I’ll buy you a piece of pie.”

  I perked up. “With ice cream?”

  “Two scoops.”

  Inside, Warren ordered breakfast and me a piece of marionberry pie with two scoops of ice cream, as promised. I convinced myself the fruit in the pie made it a fine breakfast choice. The berries and ice cream combined were practically a yogurt parfait.

  After we finished eating, Josh, a bearded roadie who was driving the RV, fixed the bathroom and we were back on the road. I figured the best way to pass the time until L.A. was to sleep. So as soon as we were back on the road, I made myself at home in the back bedroom, burrowing under the covers and curling up on my side. Hours later, I woke to the bus arriving in L.A., and to Warren’s arm wrapped tightly around me.

 
Warren wouldn’t quit bouncing his leg. His movements shook the car. We were alone, just him and me. When the bus pulled into the lot in L.A., a huge white limo was waiting. To the hoots and hollers of the rest of the band, Warren had ushered me into the sleek car. He’d nearly come to blows with Kelly when my murse tried to follow us into the vehicle. He was my security detail, after all. Warren begrudgingly gave him his address but commanded he not show up until morning. I didn’t know if Kelly was going to do as Warren directed. I hoped for his own sake he did.

  Warren was in a strange mood. As soon as the limo door shut his knee had started bouncing and the lip-chewing had started. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d say he was nervous. But nervousness wasn’t in his genetic code. Not possible. “My house isn’t far from here,” he told me. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes or so.”

  I wondered if he was worried that I was going to back out of our deal. “I’m not going to renege,” I said.

  Warren grimaced. “It’s that bad, huh? Being married to me.”

  The conversation suddenly turned serious. “We weren’t good together.”

  “You didn’t even give us a chance,” he said, jaw unyielding.

  I bit back all my vicious retorts, all my hurt. I didn’t want to open this door with Warren, the one where I admitted to hearing every vile thing he’d said about my father and me. I could still hear his words as clear as day, feel them slicing into me as real as any knife. And maybe there was a part of me, a very small part, that didn’t want him to know what I knew. I was sure he’d refute it. Make up some excuse. I was weak when it came to Warren. He’d apologize, and I would accept. But then where would we be—in the same situation as before, in a secret relationship that was better in bed than out? No, best to get the divorce and walk away, my heart shredded but still intact. “We can’t even get through a day without fighting.” I was sure I looked as frustrated as I felt.

  His chin jerked. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  Then don’t, I wanted to say. Sign the papers and we’ll both be on our merry way. I decided to throw him a bone and agree with him. “It is exhausting.”