Hidden Truths

by Megan Erickson

  “This ex of yours have a way to get a hold of you?”

  “He calls.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  She pursed her lips. “He wouldn’t betray me. Well actually, he might betray me, but he wouldn’t betray my brother. And trying to kill me would betray my brother.” She had a brother? This sounded complicated. She turned on the car and after a couple pumps of the gas, it started. She sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

  “Tara—”

  I wasn’t able to speak another word before my voice was drowned out by an approaching SUV—gunmetal gray with tinted windows, and it was heading right for us. Tara craned her neck, then stepped out of her car and shaded her eyes against the glare of the rising sun. I watched her body language, and when her spine locked, I stepped closer to her.

  The SUV stopped about fifteen feet away and all four car doors opened. The driver was big, with a round belly and thick neck like a linebacker. The two guys in the back were weaselly, and I immediately recognized the fucker that had pulled a gun on me. He stared back at me with no expression.

  The man who emerged from the passenger seat walked out in front. Sunglasses covered his eyes, so it was hard to read his expression. “Babe, heard about the fire. Called the police and the hospital, even the morgue, worried out of my mind for you.”

  She waited a beat before speaking. “Well, I’m okay.”

  He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his blond head and blue eyes seared through the car, her and then me. Something in my memory reared its head. “I see that.” His gaze shifted back to her and the running car. “Where you going?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  He shook his head before she even got out her second syllable. “No, no more of this. I’m bringing you back under my protection.”

  “No, Reb,” she said. “No way in hell. I know what that life is like and I don’t want it.”

  Reb. Why was that name familiar? I began to wrack my brain.

  “It’s the only life you’re gonna get,” Reb snarled at her. “Don’t be fucking stupid, Tara. They’re after you.”

  “And why’s that?” she snapped. “How did they find out where I was?”

  “Not having this fucking discussion in a parking lot next to this asshole. Who the fuck are you?” He puffed up his shoulders, clearly trying to out-man me, but I wasn’t interested. I was fitting puzzle pieces together in my mind that began to form a fucked-up picture.

  Reb “Ghost” Rebert. I knew who he was. Dread pooled in my stomach, sour and nauseating. I said the name in my head, but I didn’t dare say it out loud. I slowly lifted my hand and rested it on Tara’s back just as she jolted and glanced back at me in confusion. I didn’t trust Reb. I didn’t trust any of his crew. He was a criminal, and a fucking killer, and no way, not on my watch, would Tara be going anywhere with him. She was his ex-girlfriend? That meant…I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. Yeah, the puzzle was together now, and the picture it showed changed everything.

  “I’m just a guy she’s been seeing since she’s been here, man. No big deal.” I looked to Tara, and talked in a normal volume I knew they could hear. “I can take care of your car. Just go head and reach into the passenger side and grab your bags and go with him.”

  She turned around slowly and stared at me. I stared back, but there was no way to communicate what I planned to do next. All I could hope was that they weren’t into kidnapping or shooting us in broad daylight. She bent down to reach inside, and I bent over her. “Here, I’ll help you.”

  Reb’s head was turned, saying something to linebacker guy, and that was my cue. I shoved Tara into the car, hard. She crashed into the passenger seat and door with a holler, but I was already inside, shutting the driver’s side door and putting the car in gear.

  Shouts came from outside, but I was already backing up, hoping this little fucking Toyota had decent horsepower.

  Reb ran toward us, shouting, which was a stupid move. He should be in his car now, trying to follow us. I backed out into the street with a screech of tires, threw the car into drive, and roared away.

  “What the fuck, Lance!” Tara shouted at me, holding her arm. I was sure it was hurt from when I shoved her in the car, but it was better than whatever Reb had planned for her. If she got into that car with Reb, she was fucked. She’d be dragged back into the life that Reb lived, and according to her, she wanted out. That was enough to get her the hell away from him.

  I knew every alley, every road in this town and it was easy to lose the giant SUV. In fifteen minutes, I was on a back road leading to a deserted highway that would take us away from this shithole town.

  Tara had fallen silent, as if she knew the score too.

  The problem was, at this moment, I wasn’t so sure she was much safer with me. Because now I knew who she was. All the puzzle pieces clicked. This was Tara Drayer. Bryan Drayer’s sister.

  And Bryan Drayer killed my brother.

  Eight

  Tara

  Lance drove like a bat of hell. I was confused, my arm hurt, and I was a little terrified that Reb would find us. I didn’t think he’d harm me, but I’d originally left town—and him—on purpose. I didn’t want to get sucked back in to everything that was Reb’s life.

  “I could have talked him down,” I said, as Lance glanced in the rearview mirror.

  He shot me a withering look so sharp that I felt the cut. “No, you couldn’t.” Derision dripped from his voice.

  Why was he acting this way? What the fuck did I do? How had we gone from this morning where he’d taken care of me, insisted I wear thick socks and that he’d walk me to my car to this? Now he seemed pissed off. At me.

  “You were in his presence for all of five minutes. That was my ex-boyfriend and we were together for five years. Trust me, I could have talked him down.”

  Lance didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw.

  I was getting pissed off now. I wanted to leave town, but I wanted to do it on my terms. Why were we still driving? Why was he coming with me? “Look, I’m kinda confused here. You could have stayed. I’m fine. Are you just going to take an Uber back or something?”

  He didn’t even look at me.

  “Hello?”

  “Tara, I need you to let me drive.” He gripped the wheel tightly. “I need to think. When we stop next, we’ll talk.”

  I stared at him, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry, what? Since when are you in charge?”

  “Since Ghost showed up.”

  I opened my mouth to snap back, when I realized he’d used Reb’s street name. Ghost. Lance knew who he was. “You—”

  “Next stop,” he said firmly. “We talk.”

  Fine. Whatever. Fuck it. I fell silent, staring out the window as we drove and drove while the sun rose high in the sky. I grabbed an expired granola bar from one of the bags I'd pulled from the trunk. I didn’t offer Lance one, and didn’t plan on it until he had his “talk.” Because I was annoyed and petty.

  We were driving south in Pennsylvania on I-83 and I figured we were following that until it took us into Maryland. When we reached the southern part of PA, I said, “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere safe,” was all he said.

  We didn’t go into Maryland. Several exits before the border, Lance got off the highway and stopped at the first gas station he saw, a small Citgo in a rather slow intersection.

  He pulled in at the pump and got out without a word. I waited while he filled the tank, and I fumed the whole time, so that when he got back in the car and went to park it in the back corner of the lot, I was ready to explode.

  I unclasped my seatbelt and the metal clip snapped back to clang on the window with a crack. “Are you ready to talk now?” I was all sass, my arms crossed, my eyes narrowed. “Because I’m about done being a passenger to what is happening here. As of this morning, I was leaving town on my own. Now, I’m shoved into a car with you on the run from my ex and I’d like to know how that happened.”

>   Lance wasn’t looking at me. He had his elbow propped on his door, and he was running his fingers across his lips and over his stubbled chin. He stared at the windshield, lost in thought, and I wondered if he even heard me. For a moment, I lost my bravado. “Lance?”

  “I know who your ex is.”

  “Okay, I gathered that.”

  “And he’s not a good guy.”

  I knew that too. If anyone knew how not good of a guy Reb was, that would be me. “Yes, but what did that have to do with this morning? I told you that he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  Lance was shaking his head. “Why did he show up with three other guys then? Why was one of them the same man who pulled a gun on me?”

  Shit, Reb had been watching me. Okay, that wasn’t great, but it wasn’t a total surprise either. “Because he travels with his men, that’s what he does. Reb doesn’t like to be alone.”

  “Did you think you had a choice this morning? Would he have let you leave?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that yes, I could have gotten Reb to let me leave, but then doubt began to creep in. After Bryan had to vanish, Reb had wanted me to stay, and I did, for as long as I could until I felt suffocated. Although Reb and I had been done for a solid year by that point, he never let me far, like I was on an invisible leash. I’d been working my way out of that life. I had a real job, but I knew if I stayed, Reb would pull me right back in. Without Bryan as a barrier, I didn’t trust myself. I’d left town against Reb’s wishes, but he’d let me leave.

  He’d let me leave. Was I even hearing myself? Why had I thought I had the power? Even when I lived in Waterstone, it was all because Reb allowed it. If he really wanted, he would have found me and dragged me back. Just like he tried to do today. I looked away and bit my lip.

  “He’d have convinced you to go with him,” Lance said. “And you’d have gone and told yourself it was your choice, that he wasn’t making you, but you’d be wrong, right?”

  I refused to look at Lance as I blinked back the tears. I nodded.

  “I’m going to get us some food. Something to drink.”

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I could go for a big bag of Doritos. With a cherry Pepsi.”

  A slight smile curled his lips. “Anything else?”

  “Water.”

  “I’ll get a case.” He had that soft tone again.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay.”

  When he returned with two giant bags of Doritos, two Cherry Pepsis, a case of water, and two more bags full of snacks, I’d pulled myself together. As he tossed the bags to the backseat, I opened one of the Doritos bags and took a big sniff. God, this was heaven. “How do you know who Reb is?”

  Lance paused with the key in the ignition for a moment, then started the car. “Let’s get some more miles behind us. A hotel room. Then we’ll talk about how I know who Reb is.” He placed his hand on the back of my head rest and craned his neck to back out of the spot.

  “Do you know my brother too? Bryan Drayer? My last name is Drayer. I guess I never told you that.”

  Lance’s eyes cut to me just as he stopped reversing and put the car into drive. “Yeah,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Yeah, I know who your brother is too.”

  That was all he said, and maybe, there was a part of me that didn’t want to hear Lance’s opinion on Bryan. If he knew Reb, and didn’t like him, then chances were his opinion of Bryan wasn’t so great either. Actually, it was probably worse. I was too fragile right now to hear Lance disparage Bryan, so I kept my mouth shut. And I figured for a couple of hours, ignorance was bliss.

  We stopped one more time for gas and burgers and then we were on the road again. We made it into Maryland just as the sun went down, and that was when Lance decided he’d had enough driving. He found a Holiday Inn, asked for a room with a king-sized bed, and minutes later he was shutting the door of our second-floor room and bolting the chain shut behind us.

  I set my bag down on the floor and immediately went to the bathroom. The harsh fluorescent lights did me no favors. My hair was a mess, my face lined from napping against the car door. I used the toilet, and splashed cold water on my face, then walked back out to find Lance sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

  Doubt began to creep into my mind. How much did I actually know about Lance? Wait, I could answer that. I didn’t know much at all. I didn’t even know his last name. Was I safe with him? Fuck, was I safe anywhere? “You said I had no choice with Reb,” I began. His head jerked up, bloodshot eyes taking me in. “But do I have a choice now? Can I walk out that door, get in my car, and drive where I want?”

  He watched me for a long time, and remained silent.

  I swallowed. “Are you only here to keep me safe? Or is there another reason you’re with me right now?”

  He rose slowly and walked toward me, and I wasn’t sure I recognized this Lance. This one wore pain like second skin and his eyes were hungry. For what, I didn’t know. “Lance…”

  He kept walking, and I had to step back until my butt hit the dresser. The furniture jolted, and the TV on it rattled. He stepped right into my space, until his chest brushed mine. “I didn’t know your last name until today.”

  His hand settled on my hip, a possessive claiming grip. He was trying to tell me something, and I wished he’d just spit out the words. He’d never been anything less than straightforward before. I slipped my hand into his hair and tilted my head to the side, trying to read him. “What’s your last name?”

  He groaned, and his head fell onto my shoulder. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, and the tension of his muscles beneath my palms sent alarm bells ringing in my ears. But his touch, his smell…this was Lance. The man who took care of me, who caught me as I leapt from a burning building. His hands cupped my ass and he hefted me onto the dresser, stepping between my spread legs. His hard length nudged me, and I sucked in a breath.

  “I didn’t know your last name until today, Tara,” he said again, his hips churning against me.

  I was having trouble concentrating. “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “I had no idea…” He mumbled as his lips opened on my neck. His one hand crept under my shirt, popped the button on my jeans, then slipped inside. I sucked in a breath as he turned his hand, palm against my clit, fingers shoving aside my panties.

  What had I asked him? Oh yeah. “Lance wh-what is your last name?”

  He slipped a finger inside of me and we both groaned. Oh shit, he was so good at this, those damn fingers.

  “Fate’s a bitch, baby,” he said, his mouth taking mine.

  I pressed against him tighter, rocking into his hand, needing something to relieve the tension of the day, the frustration of sitting in the car for hours on end. “Oh fuck,” I breathed into his mouth. My tongue wasn’t working, nothing was. I was a puppet and he held the strings and all I could do was hold on, let him control my body and bend it to his will. I wanted it. His fingers slipped inside me, heading right for the spot he knew made me putty in his hands.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he said, fucking into me with his fingers until I couldn’t think. “Why’d it have to be you?”

  I barely registered his words, because the orgasm was slamming into me. I curled my toes, hooking my legs around his thighs as I threw my head back on a scream and rode his hand into oblivion.

  The aftershocks were still rocking my body when he tore my jeans from my legs, and my underwear with them. He pulled his dick out of his fly, and I wasted no time grabbing his shaft and pulling him to my entrance. “Last name, Lance,” I said, finally grabbing hold of some brain cells, remembering what I wanted to know. I dragged the tip of his dick through my wetness, needing to be filled.

  He groaned, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, tugging him against me until with an agonized groan, he surged inside of me.

  “Yessss,” I hissed. God, no one had ever felt this good. No one. Not my first time, not my high school boyfriend,
and certainly not Reb. No one felt as good as Lance.

  He didn’t move at first, only panted heavily, his breath coating my shoulder. I squeezed his dick with my inner walls—thanks Kegels— and with a jerk, he pulled his hips back and then snapped them back to me. With one hand on the dresser and the other wrapped around the base of my hair, he pulled back to watch my face, then began to fuck me. He pounded into me and all I could do was hold on with all my limbs as Lance worked out whatever he needed to work out on my body.

  I relished in it, loving the power of his body, the sweat-slicked skin beneath my hands. When he finally came, he did so saying one word. “Anders.”

  We didn’t move, didn’t look at each other. Lance’s face was shoved in my neck, and I stared at the bed beyond us from over his shoulder. Anders? Why did that sound so familiar? Where had I heard that before?

  Lance pulled back, just enough that our cheeks brushed as he held his face side by side with mine. “My name, Tara, is Lance Anders. My brother’s name was Trent.”

  Pieces clicked in my brain, and each one felt like a death knell. I registered two things, two very, very important things. My brother was rumored to have killed a man named Trent Anders. And Lance had just fucked me without a condom.

  Nine

  Tara

  My brain wasn’t working properly, but I knew enough to know that now was the time to panic. Being forced to leave town so my brother’s enemies didn’t hunt me down? Okay fine. My apartment burning? I could deal. Well, deal-ish. Reb finding me and leaving town with Lance on the run? Handled.

  But this? Finding out Lance’s brother was Trent Anders and that I was sitting on a hotel dresser full of Lance’s come was too much. Too. Fucking. Much.

  I stared at the bed of the hotel without seeing it. “Get off me,” I whispered.

  Lance’s body stiffened beneath my hands, and his softened cock slipped from my body. But he didn’t move back. I forced down a sob. “Get. Off. Me.”