Lies

by Aleatha Romig

  “You’re not even at the office,” my mother went on. “Don’t you realize the signal you’re sending? Do you want people to think you are hiding out after you’d gone missing last week? Do you want them to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with that...that—”

  Standing, I decided that I couldn’t take it any longer. “Stop right there, Mother.”

  “Why, Sterling? Why would you track her down? Why would you want to fulfill your father’s prophecy? You know that no matter what he did or said, there was always a reason behind it, usually to inflict harm or agony. The man was evil and you’re playing into his hands, fulfilling his wishes. You should have left her dead. It was better for everyone.”

  “Allister is gone,” I said. “This has nothing to do with him or you. And I didn’t disappear. Sterling Enterprises was handled from the cabin. I do have an office here too, you know? I don’t need to be sitting on fucking Michigan Avenue to get work done.”

  “Language.” Her head shook as her painted blue eyes opened wide—well, as wide as they could considering the number of surgeries she’d had to erase wrinkles. Those procedures, as she called them, also erased the elasticity that skin was supposed to have. “The cabin,” she continued. “Don’t tell me you took her to that beautiful place. As her name indicates, she will infest everything if you don’t get rid of her now. She’s the devil’s spawn.” Her hands slapped the sides of her thighs.

  I doubted the fabric of her designer dress was covering Kevlar underneath. She’d probably be bruised by the time she left. It wouldn’t be from me, but at this point, I didn’t give a damn.

  I took a step closer, my height towering over her. “I. Said. Stop. And you have that wrong, Mother. The devil’s spawn would be me.”

  Her neck straightened. “Sterling Sparrow, I warned you about her since the day Allister put that ridiculous notion into your young head. What Daniel did, what he learned, what he knew...bringing her back is only opening old wounds. The girl was dead and buried as far as the right people were concerned. Why bring her back? Why risk your standing?”

  “The only thing that I’ve risked is her. It wasn’t intentional, but I’ll regret that forever and spend the rest of my life making up for it. So you better start to understand that she’s here. She’s staying here, and she’s not a risk to anything that I’ve done or will do concerning any part of Sparrow.” I forced a smile. “Oh, and Mother, she’s also not a girl. She’s a woman.”

  My mother’s eyes blinked and lips puckered as if she’d tasted something sour. “I am your mother.” Her tone was that of disgust. “Do you think I want to hear about the latest whore you’ve bedded?”

  The night at Araneae’s side had been long; patience was not currently a virtue I possessed. My voice rose. “Araneae McCrie is not a whore.”

  “Like mother, like daughter,” she huffed as her fist came to her hip and she spun my way. “Tell me you didn’t bring her here.”

  “I just said she was here.” I pointed at the floor. “Here means this location. Besides, after last night, where the hell else would I take her?” My mother didn’t know about the poisoning. No one besides those who’d been in this apartment during the night—Dr. Dixon, Patrick, Reid, Lorna, and me—did. That was how I planned on keeping it.

  And until Araneae woke, I wasn’t leaving this apartment, not even to go another two floors down to where Reid and Patrick were making lists and following up with our teams on leads. When we made lists, you better hope your name wasn’t on them. Let me say that if my two associates worked for Santa, they weren’t collecting the names of those who were nice.

  Dr. Dixon said that based on the blood poison concentration level, Araneae would wake. The doctor had run tests throughout the night. Thankfully, it appeared that Araneae hadn’t consumed an excessive amount. Stopping her when I did from finishing her drink was one of the few things I did right last night.

  According to our sources—our ears out and around as well as those on the ground and what I was getting from my mother’s rant—the story Jamison had repeated in the elevator was what was being circulated: Araneae McCrie appeared from the shadows, materializing in a place that doesn’t exist. She wasn’t alone but with Sterling Sparrow, a statement to everyone that she had not only the Sparrow realm protecting her but the king himself.

  McFadden’s expression was priceless the moment he realized that Araneae and Kennedy were the same person. That alone would have made the entire night had it not been for the poisoning.

  I’d told Araneae that she’d been in her biggest enemy’s fucking grasp. She had been, at the dinner for Sinful Threads, sitting at the same table. Patrick had been watching. Still, last night, it was amusing to watch the wheels turn. Rubio McFadden had been close enough to stop the potential decimation of himself and his campaign, and he’d missed the opportunity.

  One might have thought he’d consider familial ties as those that would protect her. Rubio has already proven he had no such lines.

  I knew without a doubt that last night while we were in the club, McFadden never left his chair. That didn’t mean he was off our list of suspects. When you’re the top of your outfit, you kept your hands clean. I did too, but I would gladly make a fucking exception for him.

  If the goal of the poison was to have Araneae collapse and die with a room full of witnesses, Annabelle’s poorly timed scene played more into our hands than it did for whoever spiked Araneae’s drink.

  Araneae McCrie, a woman who never knew her birth parents—or even if they were alive—was simply stunned. That was the way it appeared as she collapsed behind the closing elevator doors.

  Thank you, Annabelle. As soon as your daughter wakes, I’ll clean up the fucking mess you made.

  While I’d been lost in my thoughts, my mother had continued her rant as she perfected her trek—on the rug and then off the rug.

  “This is done for now,” I declared. “Go home. I have more important things to do.”

  “More important than your mother?” Her tone softened. “No matter what you think you were promised, you can’t keep her like she’s a pet.” She scoffed. “A pet spider you can keep in a jar.” Her beady eyes turned directly to me. “She’s a ticking time bomb. When that bomb goes off, it will annihilate not only your target, but the world as we know it. We’re talking mass casualties.”

  “I think I’m a little better versed in explosives and how to use them. The truth is...”

  I took a deep breath and again ran my hand through my hair. My mother wasn’t getting the truth that was on the tip of my tongue—the gut feeling I had that Araneae was not the prophesied oracle that she’d been forecast to be.

  I began again, “The truth is that this world is in need of rearrangement. She won’t blow it up—I will. First, I need to decide who will be named on the list of casualties.”

  “I lost my husband. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Mom, but you don’t have me. You gave up that right a long time ago. I simply tolerate you.”

  “And you think bringing back Daniel’s daughter, parading her in front of Annabelle, is going to help your cause? Sterling, I remember when Araneae died—when we all believed that. Annabelle and I have had our differences, but she’s still a mother—or she wanted to be. What you’ve done...” She shook her head. “Did you stop to consider how this will affect others or don’t they matter?”

  “I didn’t parade her in front of Annabelle. I never imagined that she’d be there. Why the fuck wasn’t Pauline with Rubio?”

  “Sterling,” she admonished. “Pauline can’t stand the man. I don’t blame her.” She shrugged, like discussing mistresses was a conversation to be had over tea. “If your father were still alive, I’d be envious. Had your father taken his slut out and about to boring dinners and events, it would have been a relief.” My mother shook her head. “The difference was that she was just that. Annabelle is at least a refined woman.”

  Again my hand we
nt to my hair. “Fuck, Mom, how can you—?”

  “Sterling?”

  Mother and I turned the direction of the foyer as Araneae came to a stop on the bottom step of the staircase.

  I couldn’t look away as my heart beat faster. Her long yellow hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her sexy, slender body was covered in a long robe. She was pale and moving slowly, but I didn’t care; she was awake, and to me she was stunning.

  “Hmm,” my mother huffed under her breath. “Now I see what you’ve been busy doing.”

  “Mother, I mean it...” My voice was a low growl. “Adjust your bitchy attitude or leave and don’t come back.”

  Araneae took one more step down as she tightly held onto the banister. “Mrs. Sparrow, it’s an honor to meet you.”

  After a quick nudge with my elbow, my mother found her voice. Too damn bad she couldn’t have lost it about twenty minutes sooner. “Miss McCrie, the rumors are true.”

  “Rumors?”

  Shit, I needed to stop this.

  “A phoenix rising from the ashes.”

  “Hardly, just a rough night—”

  “Traveling can be difficult,” I said, interrupting as I stepped forward, my eyes on Araneae, silently pleading that she stop talking before something that we’d both regret was spoken in front of my mother.

  “In Sterling’s plane, I presume. It must have been awful. More like finding the golden ticket, if you ask me.”

  Before I could tell her again to shut the fuck up, Araneae responded.

  “I suppose Sterling did that—found the golden ticket. I’m certain he’d agree that since finding me, it’s been an all-expense-paid trip to Charlie’s Chocolate Factory. Mrs. Sparrow, I came downstairs to apologize for the way your son was speaking to you.” Araneae’s head tilted as she grinned. Even with the pallor, her soft brown eyes shone. “You see, it’s my fault that he hasn’t gotten much sleep. But now, after meeting you, I see that an apology on my or his part is undeserved.”

  Genevieve huffed her response.

  Fuck, Araneae was amazing.

  I turned to my mother as my eyebrows rose and eyes widened with the surprise of Araneae’s comeback. Regal and deadly. Hell yes, this woman was made for me. I cleared my throat. “Well, there it is. I think that’s your cue to leave.”

  My mother’s lips pressed together as she reached for the handbag she’d tossed onto the chair when she’d stormed in. Turning to me, with her chin jutted up and fire burning in her gaze, she said, “We’re not done.”

  “No, but we’re damn close.”

  With a quick, bitchy nod to Araneae, she turned on her toes, her heels clipping the floor, and stalked to the front door.

  As it slammed closed, I let out a breath and moved forward, making my way to Araneae. Reaching for her waist, I pulled her close. “Damn, it’s good to see those eyes open.” I looked around, my gaze going to the upper-level landing. “Did Dr. Dixon approve of your walking all the way down here by yourself?”

  Araneae’s lips turned upward. “No. After she disconnected me, I waited until she stepped out of the room, and then I snuck out.”

  “I should spank your ass.”

  Pink filled her cheeks as the tips of her lips rose. My earlier assessment was confirmed. Araneae McCrie was made for me.

  “Can that wait?” she said. “I have huge holes in my memory...” She twisted her left arm showing where the IV had been. “...and in my arm. I’m also starving. Can we find food while you fill in the holes?”

  My lips quirked. “One of my favorite things to do, but eating at the same time could get messy. Do you like chocolate?”

  Araneae’s head shook as she leaned into me. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Insatiable.” In one fell swoop, I picked her up, lifting her from the floor into my arms.

  “Sterling,” her voice squealed as a smile filled her face and light glistened from her eyes.

  She was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. After last night, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see her or her light again. “Sunshine, those feet aren’t touching the ground until Dr. Dixon clears you to walk. And we’ll talk about what happened. When we do, we’ll discuss following my orders.”

  She shook her head. “You’re not my boss.”

  My forehead wrinkled. “I am. Tell me, do you think it’s a good idea to argue that fact?”

  “I could.” She let out a breath. “However, I’m pretty sure it won’t do me any good.”

  My grin broadened. “As a matter of fact, it may get you in more trouble than you’re already in.” I began to walk, carrying her in my arms toward the kitchen. “Now, let’s get you some nourishment so you can regain your strength. After having your stomach pumped, I can only imagine how you feel.”

  “My stomach pumped? I don’t remember any of that.”

  “That’s probably for the best.”

  Her cheek fell against my chest. “Okay, I want to eat.” She turned her face up to mine. “Are you upset with me at how I spoke to your mom? I kind of insinuated that your lack of sleep was from—”

  A laugh rumbled through me. “Fuck no. Next to seeing you standing and awake, it was the best part of my day.”

  She sighed as her cheek again fell against my t-shirt. “I recall something about being mad at you.”

  I bowed my head to kiss her hair as I continued walking. “Probably. Someone lately has mentioned that I can be an asshole.”

  “That someone was right. You can be.” She looked up. “Just not right now.”

  “See, you can’t stay mad at me. Now, let’s concentrate first on food. Lorna can make you whatever you want to eat.”

  Araneae

  Lorna?

  Sterling was right. I couldn’t stay mad at him. I could be mad and he could be an asshole. I remembered that. However, staying that way, I doubted it.

  In a very short time, the man whose arms I was in had turned my life upside down. He was infuriating, overprotective, and domineering. And yet even with the holes in my memory, as he carried me—hell, the way he looked at me even in front of his mother—he was able to do things to me that I’d never before known, making me feel safe and adored. This sense of well-being was foreign to me, almost unbelievable. It wasn’t something I realized I’d been missing until now. I hadn’t felt this secure and content probably since the afternoon I first boarded a plane to Colorado.

  Looking at Sterling’s handsome face, I almost forgot to look around at the apartment that I hadn’t before seen and didn’t recall entering. I’d looked beyond the drapes in the bedroom where I’d awakened. Surrounded by blue sky, we were somewhere high within the Chicago skyline. From my limited knowledge, the first floor—which obviously was much higher than that in the building—was more modern chic than the grandeur of the bedroom. Large windows filled exterior walls, blanketing the rooms with natural light. Marble floors, area rugs, and sleek furnishings were a testament to Sterling’s style as well as wealth.

  Unlike the story that he’d told me where he described his father’s office as dark and musty, Sterling’s living space was light and open. We turned a corner and came to a stop, entering the kitchen. I had the sensation of walking into a photo within an architectural magazine. Black granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and shimmering tile backsplashes were only the beginning. However, it was more than picturesque. It was welcoming.

  “Why does a single man need this nice of a kitchen, especially one who said he doesn’t cook?”

  “He doesn’t cook. I do,” said a woman carrying vegetables from what was probably a pantry. Maybe a little older than me, she was petite yet fit, with a runner’s body. Her long red hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy bun, and her bright green eyes shone without the aid of much makeup. Dressed in blue jeans and a Cubs t-shirt, she didn’t look like the staff at the cabin; she appeared at home.

  Her smile bloomed as she dropped the produce on one of the counters. “Ms. McCrie, I’m Lorna. It’s so goo
d to see you up and about.” She turned her attention to Sterling. “Maybe one day he might even let you walk?”

  Sterling pulled out a chair at the long slate-topped table and gently sat me down.

  “Lorna, how about some food for Ms. McCrie?”

  “Food? Oh, that’s right.” She laughed. “I forgot.”

  I liked her.

  As Lorna continued whatever task she’d begun with the produce, Sterling turned to me. “You’re right. I don’t cook, but this kitchen isn’t just for me. Lorna makes sure we all eat.”

  All?

  “I try, but these men like to disappear, sometimes in the middle of the night for days at a time with no notice, I may add. When that happens, I end up eating the same thing for every meal. But hey, it frees up some time for other things.”

  He shook his head. “Lorna is Reid’s wife.”

  “Or Reid is my husband,” she corrected with a wink my direction.

  “When she married him,” Sterling went on, “she got more than she bargained for. Patrick, Reid, and I are a package. You get one and you get us all.”

  My brows rose. “Oh?”

  Sterling smiled. “Not like that, sunshine. We have limits on what we share.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Housing is one. It’s easier that way. Reid and Lorna as well as Patrick all live here.” He shrugged. “Not on these floors. We’ll have some privacy. Their apartments are one floor below. All of the floors are connected and protected.”

  Protected?

  I had this vision of bulletproof walls and windows or maybe an infrared force field that sizzled with high-end technology making the building appear as if the floors he discussed weren’t present. Maybe Sterling was like the comic book superheroes and he’d brought me to his secret lair.

  As I let that thought settle, I realized what he’d said about Reid being married, the same as Dr. Dixon had mentioned. “So this mystery man really exists?”

  “Mystery man?” Lorna asked.

  “Reid. I’ve heard his name, but so far, that’s it. Oh...” I grinned at Sterling. “...I take that back. I think I heard his voice once.”