Lies and Illusions

by Avelyn Paige

  Okay. Okay.

  Freak show.

  When I heard her mention my name, I can’t lie and say that I didn’t stand outside listening through the door to their conversation, all the while internally begging God to spare me if Ratchet let it slip to Raze. Although the albeit brief conversational pieces about me does give me a sliver of hope that I have a chance with her once this was all over. And if we survived, death would definitely hinder my plans a bit, and necrophilia was definitely not in my kinky toy box.

  Although I had come here to see her out of investigational necessity, her playful banter was definitely a welcome appearance. This was the Presley that I knew from the months of texting, and to see her come out of her shell was the best fucking thing on the planet.

  The only problem is that every time she does it, I act like that fucking Indian guy off of The Big Bang Theory. Her beautifully, plump lips move and my voice and nerves just poof into thin air. Fucking bullshit if you ask me.

  “Uh, V,” she interrupts my mental anguish with a smile. “What exactly do you need from me?”

  “Oh,” I stammer. “That. I, uh…”

  I can’t seem to get my thoughts together around her. “I need you to look at some photos. I want to see if you can identify anyone who was involved at the safe house.”

  She looks to my hands, finding them completely empty, and returns her gaze to me.

  “Looks like you forgot something,” she laughs.

  I look down to my own hands, and just shake my head as I laugh.

  “They’re on my computer in my office,” I say, running my shaking hand through my hair, as a stupid fucking way to break through this wall of nerves. “Field trip?”

  She sidesteps around me, stepping into the hallway, and stops when I don’t follow her.

  “You coming?” she asks. “I don’t exactly know the way to your office.”

  She’s fucking toying with me.

  And I like it.

  The way she says my office sends all the blood from my braining parachuting straight below my belt. My dick hardens as my mind replays the way those words came rolling off her tongue. Each movement of her lips is seductive.

  Seriously? That’s what turns you on? Come on, dude.

  She’ll be in my domain. All alone. With me. The things we could do in there.

  Get it together, man!

  I step out of the doorway, past her and start towards my office. A few of the guys take notice of the fact that she’s wearing one of my old prospect t-shirts and whistle, as we walk through the main room. Presley looks back at them, and I catch her confused glare out of the corner of my eye, as I round the corner to the office area.

  That’s right, assholes. Back off. She’s mine.

  “What was that about?” she asks me, as we stop before my office door.

  “Don’t worry about them,” I reassure her. “They’re all crazy.”

  She looks back down the hall, before responding back to me.

  “I specialize in crazy, V. I’m pretty sure that you know that.”

  “That kind of crazy out there isn’t for you.”

  I wiggle the keys to my office out of my jeans pocket, unlocking the door. She follows in right behind me, as I flick on the lights to the room. Her wide eyes scan the room, taking in the sights of my fully functional computer man cave equipped with all the latest bells and whistles.

  “Wow,” she responds. “You weren’t kidding, when you said that you were the tech guy. I would say that I’m decent with a computer, but this is an entirely different playing field.”

  Presley saunters up to my main consoles and traces her fingers across the glowing Alienware keyboards. I smile knowing that the one person that I had dreamed about being in my room is now in here. Only she wasn’t naked in this reality, but that could be changed in time. I hope at least.

  “You better stop that,” I chuckle, as she rips her hand away from the keyboard like they burned her. “My computers might start liking you better than me, if you keep caressing them like that.”

  Presley holds her hand against her chest and just laughs.

  “You touch your computers often, V?” she asks.

  I stow the idea to tell her that she has no idea and to not use a black light, but that would probably kill the mood. Instead, I settle for something more subtle and subdued.

  “I don’t touch and tell.”

  She heartedly laughs at me.

  “Good thing my brother wasn’t wrong about you. I like a man with a sense of humor.”

  My dick jerks at her praise of my personality, and I swear to fucking god, I can feel him screaming from inside my pants to seize the opportunity and throw her ass on this desk. But for once, I don’t listen to him.

  “So where are these pictures you want me to look at?”

  I walk over to her, gesturing for her to sit down at the main console she was just fingering. Her body moves in an almost fluidic manner, as she brushes past me and takes the offered seat. The scent of her shampoo wafts into my face, and I fight the urge to take a closer sniff.

  Don’t be creepy. This is going well for once. Don’t fuck it up.

  Instead, I lean over her and unlock the console. A collage of photos pops up on the screen. After several days of my self-proclaimed exile from the incident on her first night, I made it my priority to try and track down some of The Zezza men to show her and Ginny. I combed the arrest records of all of their known associates, and I might have hacked into the FBI database as well. That part was actually kind of fun. The ease of which hacking came to me would likely shock most people, but it was an adrenaline rush for me. The chances of getting caught were higher and higher the more I did it. Even with the safety measures I had put in place to mask my I.P. address and location, the chances were extremely high and very real. And if I were to ever get caught, the FBI would find themselves surrounding an abandoned Amish popcorn factory in Indiana. I hope they were hungry.

  Jokes aside, it doesn’t bode well with me that Raze has had a visitor from the FBI already. Martinez and I would be getting up close and personal, as soon as I hacked into their system again. Right after I finish up with Presley.

  “What are we looking for here?” Presley asks, she turns her face within inches of mine. Her warmth radiates from her beautiful, creamy skin, begging for me to kiss her rich lips. She pauses, when she realizes how close we are and quickly turns back to face the computer.

  So fucking close and yet so far away.

  I grab the mouse, bringing up individual mugshots of the men I had managed to track down.

  “Tell me if you recognize any of these guys,” I instruct her.

  I flick through half a dozen of them, before she grabs my hand from the mouse. She pushes herself closer to the screen, getting a better look at the man currently occupying it. Her eyes close and quickly re-open. I notice her body tremoring more and more with each passing second, as she stares at his face.

  “This one was at the house.”

  I click on Vincente’s file and drag it to the desktop to add to my research file, before clicking to the next one. Thirty minutes pass, and we only add one more to the pile, that one being a strong maybe in her words. At least this was a good start, and I still have Ginny left to repeat the process with. Between the two of them, I would at least have a direction to follow.

  I close out the screen, and turn to lean my ass against the computer station desk. Presley shoves back in her chair with her hand covering her mouth in silence. Her beautiful dark brown eyes are filled with terror and fear. Shit, I took her back there.

  “You okay?” I ask her, reaching forward to caress her arm. She looks up and a stray tear drips down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I know this is really hard on you, but I really appreciate you helping me get started.”

  “It’s okay,” she whimpers. “I guess I can fully understand how some of my clients feel, when faced with the demons of their past now. It’s not a great feeling let me tell you.”

>   “I have a couch right over there, if you want to talk about it. I can be the head doctor and you can be the patient,” I joke, hoping it will bring that heart-stopping smile back to her face. It kills me to see her like this, and I would do anything to fix it. And I mean anything.

  “I just want to forget about it,” she retorts, as she wipes away another tear from her face.

  An idea pops into my head. One that might just do the trick, if I execute it to perfection. My mental checklist goes wild, as I decide all the things I will need to make this work. I must be lost in thought longer than I had intended to be, because as soon as I come back to reality, I find Presley staring at me.

  “I have an idea. Give me an hour. You in?”

  She wipes away tears one last time and her smile returns, lighting up the room like a sunrise. It’s a beautiful thing to behold. I’m one lucky man to be witnessing it.

  “It’ll help me forget?” she skeptically asks.

  “It will,” I reassure her. “Now you go relax for a bit, and I’ll come get you.”

  She doesn’t move immediately from the chair, which makes me laugh. She’s so stubborn, and hopefully she’ll be mine soon. I clear my throat, nodding toward the door.

  “Oh,” she exclaims. “You mean wait somewhere other than here.”

  “Not to rush you out, but the longer you linger, the longer you will have to wait for your mind-numbing surprise. Now, scoot.”

  She chuckles, as she pushes back from the desk and breaks for the door. I wait for her to round the corner, and I spring into action. If someone had been watching outside, they would have said that my office looked like a tornado trapped in a bottle. Papers, electronic gadgets, and my drones disappear at a record pace, as I put them away for safekeeping. I only wish that I had more time to get this place in better shape, but in honesty, she’d already seen it in its usual messy form anyway.

  I shove my futon, which doubled as my bed for so many long nights for the club and the security firm at an angle, facing my open wall that usually held my corkboard workflow charts.

  “Misty!” I yell from inside my office. “Get in here.”

  Her high heels clack heavily on the hardwood floors of the office area, as she comes like I beckoned. She breaks through the plane of the doorway, where she stops with her hips popped out with a come and get me smile.

  “You rang, babe?” she coos. “You ready to come back to me?”

  “No,” I cut her off. “I need you to grab me a clean, white sheet, and some of that spray shit that makes fabric smell better.”

  She arches her eyebrow at me like what I just said had an optional compliance amendment added to it.

  “It wasn’t a request.”

  “Fine,” she whines, before disappearing again.

  A short while later, she returns with everything I asked her to get, and basically throws it all in my face. I almost fire something back at her about her fucking attitude, but I think about how it would feel to be in her shoes. She has been after me for a while now, and I was about to give in to her, when Presley’s entrance brought my whole world crashing down around my feet. She was angry and hurt. I would do better to remember that the next time I acted like a pushy asshole.

  I make quick work on the finishing touches for my plan, before making one last stop in the kitchen. With everything set, I go after my girl. Yeah, I said it. In my mind, she’s already mine.

  Presley rips open her bedroom door, before I can even finish knocking.

  “Someone’s excited,” I tease her, as she steps outside of her door, closing it behind her.

  “More like I need to shut off my brain.”

  “Follow me, my lady. Relaxation awaits.”

  When we return to my office, she gasps when she steps inside to find what I had done in the hour apart. I had made a makeshift coffee table that currently held a hodgepodge of snacks and sodas, using a few boxes that were filled with various computer and camera parts. The couch is reclined back just slightly with a clean blanket tossed on the back of it, to make it look a bit more home-like and less broke frat boy chic.

  On the open wall, I hung a sheet that I had planned a few different uses for, since I hadn’t bit the bullet and purchased the projector screen that I had my eye on. The next time, well if there was a next time this happened, I would have one.

  I usher her to the couch, and she sits. I plop down next to her. Reaching down between my legs, I pull out two Nintendo Switch controllers.

  “Video games?” she questions with a skeptical look.

  I kick up my feet on the open end of the makeshift table, and toss one of the controllers into her lap, which makes her jump.

  “I promised you mind-numbing fun, and this is it. Well, the start of it. I have a few prime choice movies we can watch, after I get done kicking your ass in Mario Kart.”

  She shoots me a sly smile and grabs the controller from her lap.

  “You’re on. Just don’t cry, when I whip your ass.”

  We play for hours, before she finally asks to watch a movie. Though she was a bit stubborn about my movie choices, she finally just let me pick, after I assured her that she would love Super Troopers. And I was right. Her laugh was intoxicating throughout the entire movie. I couldn’t help, but smile. The longer the movie went the closer she scooted towards me. The nerves that had rattled her from the pictures before were completely gone. I smile again, knowing my plan was successful.

  A short while later, I take the chance of putting my arm around her in a not so smooth high school first date move. She flinches at first, but settles against it with the popcorn bowl nestled in her lap. Her head begins to dip, as drowsiness sets in. Her head finally eases against my shoulder when sleep overcomes her.

  My chin tilts towards her head on my shoulder. I gaze down at her sleeping form, and I can’t help myself, when I place a kiss on the top of her head. She groans in her sleep, shifting against me, before re-settling again. I look back down at her sleeping form just as her lips begin to move.

  “Beauregard,” she mumbles, before drifting off again, while my heart falls to the pit of my stomach. Even with me now, she’s still dreaming of him. He was the man who held her heart. Not me. I was crazy to think that I could shove that side of me out of her heart, after just a few days. He had been there for months, where I had only a few days with her.

  There was only one thing I had left to do, and it breaks my heart knowing that it was my only option. Beauregard had to break her heart. Without that, I was dead in the water.

  A comforting blanket of warmth stirs me awake. My hand slides from the cocoon of warmth and slips into the chilly desert morning air.

  Did I sleep in V’s office last night?

  My brain is a foggy mess of drowsiness that I can’t seem to shake. My brain thumps like a drumline, as the beginnings of a headache start. My bones creak and crack with every labored stretch, until the fog finally lifts.

  I’m back in my room. Normally, one would expect to find themselves snuggled into their own bed. But in my situation, I don’t exactly remember coming back here.

  Did he bring me back? Did I sleep walk?

  The comforter slips from my feet, and the cold chill sends an instant need for the restroom. I try to convince my bladder that I need more sleep, and that if I left the confines of my warm bed, that it might not accept me back again. A ludicrous thought, I know. I mean do blankets have feelings? Not likely, but it doesn’t mean that I want to leave their heat for the chilly outside air.

  I slip another foot out of the covers, which only makes the need to pee intensify.

  “Goddammit,” I grumble, throwing off the blankets, putting both of my feet down on the cold floor. I pad to the bathroom in a huff and take care of business. My body shivers, as I head back to bed. For a split second, I consider just getting up for the day, but decide against it. A day in bed sounds much better, than facing the world.

  The comforter thankfully allows me back into the bed. Welcomi
ng me with semi-warm arms. I flip over the pillow to the cool side, snuggling into it. The quietness of the room begins to lull me back to sleep, until my brain has other ideas. The scene from last night floods my sleepy mind.

  The care and thoughtfulness of V’s gesture makes me smile into my pillow. He knew exactly the kind of distraction that I needed, after facing one of the men that sent my life spiraling back out of control again. His dark eyes and cold, emotionless face haunted my dreams, during the sad attempt of the nap I had tried to take, before V’s planned evening. Had it not been for his distraction, I doubt I would have slept so well last night.

  My consciousness refocuses to V. His bright eyes were beacons of laughs and smiles, throughout the entire night. After so many days of nervousness and avoidance, I think he was finally ready to show me the man behind the mask. He was goofy, as he explained the game to me, and his personality really came out to play. While I had pegged him as an anxiety-riddled man, my diagnosis may not exactly be accurate. Anxiety may not have been his folly at all. His issue with the situation was definitely centered around me. From the moment I walked into this club, I felt like there was something different about him. He was overly cautious, yet caring when he needed me to identify my attacker. He was also oddly protective of me. Try as he might, I noticed the way he sneered at the men looking in my direction. He was like a male trying to mark his territory. Thankfully, he didn’t try to piss on my leg.

  It was perplexing to me to think about the day and night change in him. But somehow, some way, last night changed it all for me. The games were meant to be the distraction, but in reality, it was his company that distracted me more. My core was a heated mess of need and desire, the minute he closed the door to his office, leaving us alone like two teenagers trying to fool around without being caught. He was an attractive man, and any woman would turn a head to look at him.

  But the feelings developing inside of me can’t be real in such a short time. It was confusing, especially with a piece of my heart firmly in Beauregard’s hands. If the feelings I have for him are even real. When I leaned into V’s arm, I felt pangs of guilt inside of me because of Beauregard. Was he out with other women in our silence? Was I even the only woman he was talking to? These were all questions that I couldn’t answer without him. Ones that would likely go unanswered, until I found a phone charger. Something that I had already shoved into the not going to happen inbox of my mind. Which is where I should be storing V, but for some reason, I was wavering on it.