Good Lies (A Wild Minds Novel)

by Charlotte West

  “Some people never change,” Gabe scoffed on my left.

  Warren’s touch stilled. “What did you say?”

  Slowly, Gabe rose from his chair. “I said some people never change. It’s so typical. All you think about is yourself.” Warren also stood.

  My tears slowed. I looked up, head bobbing between Gabe and Warren.

  “Gabriel, I don’t think now is the time,” Mel started.

  Gabe gritted his teeth. “Now’s the perfect time, Ma. You have no idea what this guy has put Addy through. And today takes the cake. If he would’ve just kept his mouth shut about the marriage, Addy wouldn’t be having a nervous breakdown right now.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Warren ground out. Part of me wanted to laugh at the unbelievable turn of events. How had this conversation derailed into a pissing contest between Gabe and Warren?

  Gabe thumped his chest. “I’m the guy who’s been there for her.” He ticked off the points on his fingers. “When she got so drunk at prom, she spent the night hurling in Jake Swanson’s bathroom. Guess who held her hair back? Me. Her first day of school in New York when she got so lost on the train she cried. Guess who MapQuested that shit and navigated her home? Me. After she got home from Rome when she was in the hospital…” Gabe trailed off, realizing his mistake. He’d just lambasted Warren for spilling secrets, and Gabe had just let the mother of all mine slip. Gabe’s mouth closed on an audible click.

  Warren caught the mistake. “In the hospital for what?”

  I shut my eyes tight, willing this to go away, to all be a bad dream.

  “Addy?” Daisy asked.

  I wiped my cheeks. When I opened my eyes Warren’s face filled my vision. I couldn’t see the others, but I knew they were still there. Jett, Chord, Turner, Lix, Ash, Derren, Pete, Mel, Gabe and Daisy, all about to bear witness to my greatest secret. I wouldn’t call it a shame, because I could never be embarrassed about the life I’d carried and lost. Still, I softened my voice when I spoke, pretending it was just Warren and I. “Remember how sick I was feeling in Rome?” Warren jerked his chin. “The whole plane ride I was really sick, could barely stay awake and my stomach was cramping so bad. When we deboarded it got worse. I passed out at baggage claim. Gabe was there to pick us up.” I didn’t tell him about the blood, how it had soaked my jeans. How there was so much I’d been sure I was dying. “I woke up in the hospital. It wasn’t just a stomach bug. I was pregnant. But the pregnancy was ectopic. That’s when the baby implants in the Fallopian tube. Anyway, if it’s not caught early, the baby starts growing and since it’s in the wrong place, it causes all sorts of problems.”

  “Oh, honey,” Mel said.

  Daisy reached across the table, taking my cold hand.

  “You were pregnant?” Warren asked. “With my baby?”

  I nodded mutely.

  “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  I shot a pleading look to Warren. His expression was an odd mixture of disbelief and anger. “Of course I was going to tell you,” I said.

  His jaw clenched. “When?”

  “I don’t know.” My heart raced. “When it felt right, when it felt like time.” When things felt more stable. My life was characterized by instability. Maybe that was why I built such elaborate lies, to keep what structure I did have safe and sound.

  War didn’t like that answer. In fact, he looked like he didn’t like anything about me. “Time, that’s always your excuse, isn’t it? You’ve had so many opportunities. I get not telling me in the beginning, because you were pissed. But we’ve been good since then.”

  “It’s painful to talk about,” I said.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s painful to hear.” He wiped a hand down his face and threw his napkin on the table.

  “War,” I whispered, eyes beseeching.

  “I just need some time to process this. You understand, don’t you? Time is kind of a specialty of yours, isn’t it?” Oh, I didn’t like the sound of his voice, so scathing and sarcastic it burned.

  “Okay,” I said robotically.

  War left. I felt cold all over. My eyes traveled the room, everyone looked away.

  “Addy, I’m sorry,” Gabe said. His voice sounded funny, like he was underwater. Drowning.

  In Greece, Lily had dragged me to some obscure art gallery just to see a single painting. The Fall of Icarus was tiny, like sheet-of-paper tiny, and hung on its very own white wall. I’d stared at it for at least twenty minutes, my eyes blurring with oil pastels, while Lily whispered the myth. Daedalus, Icarus’s father, had fashioned his son a pair of fragile wings made of wax so he could fly. He’d cautioned his son to keep close to the earth, to the sea, lest he get too close to the sun and melt away. Icarus, uncaring of his father’s warning, flew high into the sky. Entranced by the sun, he neared it. Too soon, his wings began to melt and Icarus fell to his death. “It’s about wanting too much,” Lily had said, interpreting the myth.

  As I stared at the group around me, I realized I was sort of like Icarus. I’d flown too close to the sun. I’d wanted too much. I’d been selfish. And I’d lost it all. Everything that mattered. A father. A husband. Friends. My self-respect.

  I couldn’t bear to look at the group’s faces anymore. They were all the same, masks of pity. So, I did what I did best when the going got rough. What my father had taught me to do. I ran away.

  In front of the restaurant, I held up a hand, summoning a taxi. The sky opened up and it began to rain, soaking my hair and clothing. That was good, the drops would hide my tears, give me an excuse for my red face. Inside the cab was warm but I shivered. Through blue lips, I directed the cabbie to the tour bus parking lot. As soon as the cab rolled to a stop, I hopped out without paying, ordering him to stay put. I’d only be a minute. Waving at security, I slipped through the gate and onto the Wanks and Janks bus. As quick as possible, I packed, jamming shirts and pants into my duffel. On a half run, I exited the bus.

  Oomph.

  As I descended the narrow staircase, my body collided with a hard chest. Murse Kelly blocked my path.

  “Where you off to, lass?” he asked. A flash of lightning lit the sky followed closely by a roll of thunder.

  “Home. I need to go home,” I said through chattering teeth. Dammit, tears threatened again. I’d thought I had them under control. I’d been wrong. Nothing was in my control.

  “I think you should stay here,” he said.

  Fury pierced my sadness. “I want to be alone, Kelly. I don’t need you or your advice anymore. You heard Billy at dinner, he’s written me off. Consider yourself relieved of all duties.”

  “Your da is mad, lass. He won’t be forever.”

  “You’re right,” I said. Agreement seemed the fastest way to get rid of him. Murse Kelly was wrong. Billy wouldn’t come around. I knew my father, and he could hold a grudge. He hadn’t spoken to his own parents for nearly a decade. A falling out over money. “But I’m not staying.” I waited for Kelly to let me pass. I wanted somewhere private, where I could lick my wounds and hide.

  “All right, if that’s your desire, I won’t stop you.” From his pocket, Kelly withdrew a white card. “Here’s all my contact info. You text me and let me know you’re safe. And remember, if anyone hurts you, I know six ways to kill a man and make it look like an accident.”

  I blinked. Kelly shuffled to the side and I scooted past him. I hopped back into the cab, clutching my bag to my chest, right over my aching heart.

  “Where to?” the cabbie asked, eyeing me in the rearview mirror.

  “Closest airport,” I managed to get out. Sadness was burning a path up my throat, clogging it, suffocating me.

  A week passed and I had to remind myself to breathe, to eat, to drink. A hole had opened up where my heart once was—giant-sized crater ripped apart by Warren and Billy. In an effort to keep them, I’d lost both. I tried to tell myself it was okay. This was what I’d planned on, planned for. This was why I’d insisted on working and renting
a crummy apartment I could barely afford. I didn’t need anyone. To toughen up, I played I Am a Rock by Simon and Garfunkel on continuous loop. I sang along and cried. Not pretty. My bullshit was a thin veneer, even I could see through it. During the day I waited for the night, for the ability to sleep and for hours to pass where I could forget. I didn’t dream.

  My cell phone rang.

  I searched it out under the mound of the covers. It couldn’t be Warren or Billy. I’d blocked their numbers. They didn’t want to talk to me. I didn’t want to talk to them. Well, I did want to talk to them. But blocking was a measure of self-preservation. What if I didn’t block them and they never called? That would cut me even deeper. So I banned their numbers and convinced myself they were calling and calling. Pathetic, I know. But it kept a spark of hope alive. And hope was all I had to hold onto.

  It was probably Gabe, Pete or Mel calling to check in. I’d forgiven Gabe almost immediately. He hadn’t meant to let my hospital visit slip. I understood what had happened—he’d been too caught up in his own emotional whirlwind. Plus my friends were few these days. I needed to keep those I had.

  Whenever any of them phoned, I raised my voice to a cheery octave. “I’m doing great. I’m really focusing on work,” I would say. I didn’t have a job. I’d quit it to go on tour with Billy. They’d ask more questions, and I’d answer them with a sugary sweetness I found annoying. “I’m eating healthy and getting back into the gym.” I had Twinkies for breakfast and walking up a flight of stairs winded me. “And school is starting soon. I’m looking forward to that.” I hadn’t registered, nothing appealed to me.

  Brring.

  Whoever was calling was insistent. After a while, I managed to find the phone and pulled it free from the bedding. A glance at the caller ID showed it was Jett. I bolted upright, flipping tangled hair from my face, blinking my gummy eyelids. Jett called me regularly—every birthday, holiday, etc. But never at two o’clock in the morning. The only time he’d called this late was when Billy had broken his arm falling from the stage. He’d been drunk and had a fight with Daisy a few hours before.

  “Hello?” I croaked.

  “Addy, it’s Uncle Jett.”

  “What’s wrong?” I could hear it in his voice, seriousness. My grip on the phone tightened.

  “It’s Daisy. You better come.”

  The flight from New York to Boise, Idaho, felt like forever. In reality it took just over five hours. I used Billy’s credit card to book the first seat available. Some things were worth more than my pride, like getting to Daisy ASAP. Luckily, Billy’s credit cards worked. I was afraid he’d cut me off. I texted Jett my flight info. He replied back Kelly would be waiting for me at the airport. As I exited the plane, airport security approached me.

  “Ms. Wanks, welcome to Boise,” a clean-cut guy in a navy blazer said. “We’ll retrieve your luggage from baggage claim and have it brought to your car. If you’ll just follow us.”

  My mouth dipped into a frown. This was unusual. Most times, I flew under the radar, no pun intended. But today I was so thankful for the quick escort I didn’t ask questions. I should have. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

  Security led me through an employee-only zone. We weaved through hallways until two glass doors leading outside cut off our path. My escort opened the door for me. At the curb, a shiny Escalade idled. Kelly stepped out of the passenger seat and opened the back door.

  “Hurry, lass,” he said. He wore all black, complete with combat boots. Tactical gear. Had I fallen into a spy novel and not known it? “We’ve been circling to avoid the paps.”

  I stalled, digesting what he said. Flashes of light caught in my peripheral vision. Then came the shouting.

  “Addison! Is it true you lost Warren Price’s baby?”

  “Addison! Care to comment on your secret marriage to Warren Price?”

  “Addison! Does your marriage to Warren Price have anything to do with the longstanding feud between Wild Minds and Wanks and Janks?”

  My eyes widened. A stampede of paparazzi descended upon us. Kelly wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me to the car. I dove inside. Kelly slammed the door and regained the passenger seat. “Go,” he shouted to the driver. We sped away, leaving the paparazzi behind.

  I drew in a careful breath. My hands shook. “They know,” I said in a daze.

  Kelly nodded. “Aye, it’s been all over the rag magazines. I’m surprised you’re surprised.”

  “I haven’t left my apartment.” I’d ordered in groceries and binge-watched television.

  “That was probably for the best, kept you safe and hidden. Nobody could find you.” Kelly’s eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror.

  “How’d they find out?”

  “The waiter at the restaurant. He sold the story.”

  Ah, I barely remembered him. But he was there, at the dinner from hell, where all our family secrets were served up as the main course. A sizzle of anger settled in my spine, but it was eclipsed by something bigger: worry. “How’s Daisy?” I asked.

  Kelly was silent for a beat. “You’ll see when you get there.”

  An ominous feeling took hold. If Kelly wouldn’t tell me, it had to be bad.

  The ride to the hospital was short. The driver circled to a back entrance where another security guard waited. “I’ll help get the car and your luggage sorted out and meet you up there,” Kelly said.

  I nodded mutely and let security handle me, leading the way. Another maze of hallways and one elevator ride, and we were on the fourteenth floor. “Should be safe up here, ma’am,” the security guard said, holding open the elevator doors. “The whole floor has been designated private. Your father is just through those doors.”

  I uttered a thank you. My shoes squeaked on the linoleum tile. I pushed through the doors. At the end of a fluorescent hallway, Billy sat hunched over in an orange plastic chair. A cup of cheap coffee was in his hands, and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips.

  He didn’t look up as I closed in. “Thought you quit those,” I said.

  A corner of his mouth turned up. He plucked the cigarette from his mouth, placing it behind his ear. “She’s been asking for you.” He jerked his head at a cracked door. I wanted to ask how bad it was, give myself a few seconds to mentally prepare, but Billy stood abruptly. He had big circles under his eyes and his face looked gaunt, ashen.

  “Have you eaten?” I asked. Whatever animosity was between us could wait.

  Billy shook his head. “I can’t… I can’t leave her. The doctors, they can’t figure out what’s wrong with her. She says she’s dizzy, but her blood pressure is fine. She says she’s having contractions, but the tests say everything is all good. They wanted to send her home but I insisted she stay. I’m paying to keep her here for now. But I’m hiring a private doctor.” His voice got louder with the last sentence. A woman in scrubs glanced up from the nurse’s station and frowned. Billy frowned back. “Better than any of these quacks.”

  I chewed my lip. “Go find something to eat. I’ll stay with her until you get back.”

  Billy nodded absently, massaged the back of his neck with a hand. “Yeah, okay. I won’t go far. Jett’s in there, have him come out. He hasn’t eaten either.”

  I smiled and nodded. I took a few steadying breaths and pushed into the hospital room. “Daisy?” I called.

  The room looked more hotel suite than a hospital room. The light was soft, yellow and warm. Flowers littered almost every surface, perfuming the air. A bed had been set up in the center. And in it was Daisy. My former nanny was hooked up to all sorts of machines. Wires ran from her arms and under the covers. My eyes traveled the length of her body. A sickening feeling took root in my gut. I prepared for the worst, for her face to look ten times more haggard than Billy’s. But when my gaze settled on her, my jaw nearly dropped.

  Daisy’s red hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Her cheeks were rosy. She was practically glowing. She looked like a paint
ing of Venus Lily had showed me in the Louvre. Only Venus was downing an ice cream sundae. My ex-nanny was licking the spoon as if her life depended on it. Hearing me, she turned toward the door, eyes brightening. “Addison! You’re here,” she exclaimed.

  I smiled, unsure. “Hey, Daisy.” Movement in the corner of the room snagged my attention. Jett shifted uncomfortably on his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets. I addressed him, “Billy’s waiting for you. He wants you to come with him to grab something to eat.”

  “Sounds good,” Jett said. “You got this?” he asked Daisy.

  Daisy nodded, bun on top of her head bobbing. Jett left, closing the door softly behind him.

  “How are you feeling?” I drew closer to her bedside. Billy’s words filtered through my mind. They can’t figure out what’s wrong with her.

  Daisy scraped the last of the ice cream from her sundae and frowned at the empty dish. “I’m fine,” she said, setting the dish on a bedside tray. She looped her hands under her heavy abdomen. Last time I saw her, which was a week ago, she hadn’t been nearly as large. “How are you?” she asked.

  “Good,” I said. “Daisy, what’s going on? Why are you in the hospital?”

  Daisy waved a hand. “It’s nothing. I was feeling a little dizzy Monday. And you know Billy. He rushed me to the hospital. The doctor said I was fine, all part of being pregnant.”

  Mentally, I did the math. “It’s Thursday,” I said. “You’ve been here for four days. Doctors don’t check you into the hospital if you’re fine.” What had Billy said? They wanted to send her home, but I insisted she stay.

  “Well,” Daisy said, lips pursing, “it was the damnedest thing. They were about to release me when I started feeling dizzy again. So we stayed a little longer, just for observation. And wouldn’t you know it, every time they tried to discharge me the dizziness returned.”

  “That’s very coincidental.” Suspicion tightened my gut. I smelled a rat.