Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1)

by Michelle Watson

  My throat does feel like sandpaper. I nod, licking my dry lips.

  He eyes drop to my mouth before he sits his cup on the table and saunters out of my line of sight.

  God, it feels like every inch of my skin is tingling.

  Why am I here again...?

  “Cranberry or orange?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  He strolls back out with a jug of juice and two glasses. Caleb flops down beside me, placing the glasses on the table. “Orange it is, then.” He smiles over at me as he fills my glass and then his own. I sip down the refreshing juice and he quickly chooses a flask with a clear spirit, ripping the cork out with his mouth and thins his drink with it.

  “Mr. Knight, I came to talk about a few things.”

  He spews the cork from his mouth and knocks back the entire glass in one gulp. Then he swipes his glistening lips with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m listening.” When he attempts to pour more liquor into his glass, I stop him and snatch the flask away. He tsks. “Am I not allowed a drink?”

  “Not when you’ve already had several,” I mutter, determined.

  He narrows his eyes in such a way I feel it my core. The Knights could stop a thief with that glare. “Is my business really your concern?”

  “It is when I’m with you,” I whisper.

  Then something strange happens: I watch in utter fascination as his face gets soft. This is truly a sight to take in, considering his face doesn’t get soft often. He settles further into the sectional, solemn eyes on mine. “Ask away.”

  I inhale deeply. Hunter is truly his father’s son. “I found pictures of you and my mom and your brother, Smith. My dad was with Grace. The photo album was well hidden. Why would they want to conceal high school pictures?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe they were ashamed.”

  My brows knit. “Why would they be ashamed?”

  “Who would want to willingly admit they knew us?”

  “Did you and Smith date my mother?”

  His eyes shift to the window that twinkles with the town’s skyline. “We loved your mother very, very much.”

  “And?”

  His eyes flicker back to mine. “And she was and still is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I miss her every fucking day.” He eyes me for a long moment. I hold my breath as he lifts a hand and sweeps my hair over my shoulder. “You look just like her. So beautiful.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I murmur.

  Something close to arousal flashes in his eyes. Again. There is no doubt that Hunter is his father’s son. “So what else do you want to know?”

  “What happened between the four of you?”

  He sighs heavily. “Smith loved your mother so much; he loved her more than his own heartbeat. He actually told me that a few times. I loved her, as well. But our love for her was on two different axles. What he thought was best for her and I what I thought were two completely different things. Smith was so intense, everything he did was extreme. He would wake with these horrible night terrors. He couldn’t sleep…until one night he snuck out the window and brought Isabelle home. He was ten and she was eight at the time. She calmed him and they slept peacefully. He’d always say it was the best sleep of his life. Isabelle and I naturally grew close and formed something extraordinary over the years that I will never forget.” He pauses and rakes his hands down his face. “So, Isabelle and I make it to Cherry Creek High. Smith was already a junior and we were only freshmen, but the entire school respected us because Smith told them to. Smith had a best friend, Ivan. They were around the same age and played football together. Ivan was irrationally in love with Grace. You couldn’t keep those two apart from one another. But what happens when the girl you can’t fucking sleep without falls in love with another that isn’t you? As you can imagine, Smith and Grace were devastated. I, on the other hand, was disappointed. Like I said, Smith’s love for Isabelle and my love for her were on two different axles. I wanted what was best for her; Smith just plain and simple wanted her.” Caleb takes a deep exhale. “We grew up. Grace and I went the Ivy route. Your mom got married and pregnant. Smith never got over her. Smith had…issues. He would call me at the strangest hours and tell me odd things. He followed her, he knew her day-to-day schedule. Before I knew it, he told me she was pregnant again. That winter break I went home to care for Smith. He was very peculiar and had these outrageous claims that Isabelle still loved him…that she wanted to be with him, that Ivan was holding her back and keeping them apart. That was very far from the truth. Isabelle was happily married with a husband and a family she adored. I don’t think she bothered to look our way…that drove Smith mad. Smith couldn’t help himself, though. He was sick and I was young and didn’t know what to do. I should have gotten him help. But it was too late when Ivan called me.”

  His eyes dim, his voice lowers to a tone that ices my skin. “You father killed my brother. Your mom was still very pregnant at the time, and Grace and I were just beginning to torture each other, she already had given birth to Hero and Hunter was still so young. Smith was going to murder your mother if Ivan didn’t divorce her. He showed Ivan his plans and everything. Ivan killed him.” Wetness rolls down his cheeks. “He murdered my brother, who was ill and I helped bury his body. Let’s face it, the south is the south as injustice as it is and Ivan would’ve got the death penalty. Ivan and Isabelle didn’t deserve that after what my brother put them through. I was so fucking broken, I told Grace everything. She told me she had a plan. She told me it was the only way.” He takes huge lungful of air. “Grace…she made your mother give up one of her babies to restore some stupid fucking balance.”

  My entire world starts to spin, but Caleb keeps on talking. “My mama didn’t give up one of her babies.”

  He nods. “Yes, she did. Isabelle was pregnant with twins the second time around.”

  All the breath leaves my body as his words sink in. “Naya?”

  He nods again, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “She looks just like you…just like Isabelle.”

  Fury and bile rises in my throat. “So you beat you wife and kids because you can’t live the fact you let your brother down.”

  His brows furrow as his gaze locks on mine. “I’ve never laid a hand on my children. And what I did to Grace, she fucking wanted it. It’s all an illusion, Isabel. I’m no woman beater. Grace fucking begged me to manhandle her. I knew that Hunter saw a scene and got the wrong idea. We always played rough, but I never broke her bones and she never had any hospital visits. Grace loved every fucking second of it. She’s the one who begged me to do it.”

  “You didn’t beat your wife?”

  He makes a face. “Not in the manner you think. I would never harm Grace or my children. I am a weak man when it comes to my desire, but I would never stoop as low as you may think.”

  “Then why is Naya’s back—”

  Caleb’s head jerks back, forehead creasing, eyes narrowing. “Wait. What’s wrong with her back?”

  “I think your children are in trouble Mr. Knight. I don’t think they’re safe with Grace.”

  I’m startled when he jolts up. “Fucking Grace! I’m getting them right now. RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” He dashes off within the dark confines of his plush penthouse and then returns with a set of keys.

  “Mr. Knight, you’re in no condition to drive. Let me take you where you did to be.”

  Chapter forty-three

  Air & Water

  Once I pull into the lot, Mr. Knight runs to the front door and almost breaks it down. He rushes inside, past a bewildered Grace. Mr. Knight comes back out, clasping Naya’s hand and Hero in the other. Mrs. Knight is furious. She is yelling and cursing, shoving Mr. Knight’s back, trying to block his path. A black glossy town car pulls up beside me.

  That must be Mr. Knight’s driver.

  Grace grabs Naya’s free hand, harshly yanking Naya towards her. Hero shouts at Grace and Naya is in a deadly tug-of-war with her parents.

  That’s my
sister.

  That’s Taylor’s twin sister.

  Unclipping my belt, I open the door. Caleb told me to stay inside my car, but this scene is just too horrifying to idly stand by and do nothing. When I march over to them, a huge muscular man sprints out the car and blocks my path. When I attempt to move past him, his heavy arms shoot out, grabbing my waist.

  “Let me GO!”

  “Mr. Knight told you to stay in the car.”

  “MOVE!”

  “I can’t let you get near Grace. Those are my orders, miss.”

  I thrash wildly in his grip but he simply hoists me over a bulky shoulder and carries me to my car. I claw his skin and kick and scream but nothing deters him from his task. It’s like I’m fighting a brick wall. He takes my keys from my ignition and then shoves me inside the town car, slamming the door after. Shaking and gasping, I scramble across the leather seats and try to pry the door open on the opposite side. No luck. It’s locked from the inside. The windows are so darkly tinted. I can hardly see what’s happening. The more I strain to peer out the black windows, the more frustrated I become. I can still hear, though. Naya is screaming her head off and Grace is shouting at the top of her lungs.

  “You can’t take my babies! A drunk can’t get custody of my children!”

  The screaming fades until it vanishes all together. I slide and tumble across the smooth seats as the car begins to move and accelerate. A million thoughts race through my head as the car speeds through the dark streets. I hold my breath as I hear the raging sounds of rushing rapids. The car swiftly rushes over The Suicide Bridge. The bridge pole lights transform into yellowish streaks of blurry color.

  We’re leaving Cherry Creek?

  Where is he taking me?

  After a while, I give up and settle into the cushiony seats, slipping in and out of consciousness. The car slows and then stops completely and harsh white florescent lighting floods the inside compartment as the door swings open. Mr. Knight holds out his hand and helps me out of the car. I squint as I rise from the car. We’re at a small gas station off the side of the freeway. The gas station is within a complex complete with a vacant motel and an aged lime green diner that has seen better days and rows of semi-trucks parked in a lot. There is no other car in sight. Mr. Muscle Man is oblivious to everything as he fills the tank.

  What happened to Naya and Hero?

  Caleb tilts his head towards the diner with a red flickering OPEN sign lit within the glass door. “Have a cup of coffee with me?”

  Nodding, I follow behind him along the cracked pavement. Inside, the walls are covered with green and white striped peeling wallpaper. We slide into a sticky worn red booth. Before the waitress could hand us a menu, he declines and orders just coffee. She comes back with two white steaming mugs. Caleb begins to converse only when she leaves.

  “I know you must have a million questions for me?” I watch him a moment as he stirs his coffee and causally sips. After what occurred, Mr. Knight seems oddly at ease.

  “How can you be so calm after everything?” I half snarl.

  He scoffs. “It’s all about control, Isabel. I’m far, far from calm.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Safe. For now, I’m taking them with me.”

  “And where is that?”

  He observes me briefly. “I rather not say. You’re welcome to come along. Cherry Creek is not a safe place for you, either.”

  I glance around at all the truck drivers and lower my voice to barely a whisper. “Did Grace hurt them?”

  “That’s rhetorical.”

  “Why didn’t you stop her? I don’t understand.”

  He takes another sip of his coffee, eyes on mine. “How am I supposed to fight something I cannot see?”

  I lean forward. “You didn’t know?”

  “Again, that’s rhetorical,” Mr. Knight snaps.

  “I’m sorry. This is difficult for me to process and I’m trying not freak out right now.” I drink down some coffee and almost gag. My rumbling stomach can’t digest anything at the moment.

  Caleb caresses my hand. “The world continues to spin, even when yours has just shattered. The kids know nothing. In time, I’ll tell them the parts they need to know. My main concern is their safety.”

  “I understand,” I murmur into my cup.

  He glances down at his shiny watch, then looks out the plate-glass windows. He seems anxious to get back to them.

  “Are you going to get custody?”

  “It’s going to be difficult, but there is no way I’m going down without a fight.”

  My brows snap together. “Why will it be difficult? Why can’t you just present the case as child abuse and win?”

  His sober blue eyes lock onto mine. “It’s not that easy…nothing is ever that easy.”

  “So she could take Naya away?”

  “Naya isn’t going anywhere near her. Relax. Let me handle it. As for Hero, he’s legally an adult. He doesn’t have to be somewhere he doesn’t want to be, but he’s still attends high school and needs a guardian.”

  “Did you love her?”

  He eyes me critically before he answers, “Who?”

  “Grace. Did you love Grace?”

  His gaze shifts back to the windows. “I’ve learned throughout my years that there are really two great loves. There is the love of your life and then the person you’re supposed to be with. The love of your life will be very, extremely passionate. It’s full of fire and heat and romance. That love will be unsteady and erratic at times but that’s what makes it so great…so worth the risk. The person you’re supposed to be with is on the other end of that spectrum. Their love is cool, refreshing, and blissful. The person you’re supposed to be with will keep you balanced and steady, but it’s no less passionate than the other. It’s just a different kind of passion, one that will wash over your soul like a heavenly wave of the most beautiful, tranquil sea. Choosing between the two is nearly imposable. It’s like choosing between air and water—you need both to survive.” He makes a face, expression revulsion. “Grace was neither for me.”

  My heart plummets to my stomach with sadness for Caleb. “Which was my mother?”

  He smiles at me, eyes going out of focus. “Your mother, she was my air. I couldn’t breathe without her.” He glances at his wristwatch again, then he pulls a crisp hundred dollar bill from his wallet, slapping it on the wooden table. “We should go now.”

  Two town cars are parked at the curb of the diner. Mr. Knight walks me to one of them. “I’ll have your car dropped off. Where do want it?”

  “Umm, my house is fine. Do you need the address?”

  He opens the car door for me, giving his head a slight shake. “I’m aware of your address, Isabel.”

  I step halfway in and then pause to ask him, “Is your water still out there?”

  Cable gives me a slow, beguiling smile only intended for me. My breath catches in my throat. Hunter is his father’s son. “She is.”

  A gust of wind sends wisps of my hair across my face. “How do you pick between the two?”

  His smile broadens. “It’s not a matter of choosing. It’s a matter of which one you can’t survive the longest without. You know, your mother has a sister. Lily Stewart. You should find her; she may have the answers you need. Take care of my Hunter. He needs you.”

  With that, I sink into the car. Right before we turn onto the highway, I notice Caleb retrieving travel-sized bottles of liquor from the car compartment and smashing the glass bottles against the curb of the sidewalk where they burst on impact.

  Chapter forty-four

  You Promised

  It’s within the very early hours of the morning when I make it home. After a long shower, I stare at the midnight-colored sky from the window of my very own bedroom. It’s been so long since I pried open the lace lavender curtains and peered out my window. The twinkling stars look especially luminous tonight. Below the shining stars is a glistening stream that curves around my entire
house. I can hear the current gliding over the smooth stones. Beyond the soothing sound of the water, the crickets chirp in a chorus of harmony.

  The atmosphere shifts, transforming into something palpable and ominous. A very strong awareness creeps in and chills my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Someone is here, inside my room with me. I am not alone. I now acknowledge that sitting in the dark without any kind of light is a very huge mistake, a fatal flaw in my resolve to live. My breathing turns ragged as my heart rate accelerates. The disorientating pounding in my head makes it impossible to think. But there is a rational part of my brain that works.

  The Window.

  You can escape out the window.

  When I launch forward and fumble with unlocking the latches, two heavy arms shoots out of nowhere and pull me into a viselike grasp. A powerful hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my scream, the other arm wraps around my waist and imprisons my back to a hard chest wall of pure muscle.

  Oh God!

  This is finally it!

  I’m going to die!

  Soft but very firm lips press to the shell of my ear. “Hush, Isabel.” It’s Hunter. Instantly I recognize his voice. He slowly releases me. Blinded by rage and fury, I spin around and slap him as hard as I can before he can prepare himself for my attack. The sickening sound echoes, and my hand stings…a lot. It’s like his face is made from granite. I flex my wounded hand and gasp as I fully acknowledge what I just did. My natural instincts are to flee from danger. I attempt to run past him, but Hunter grips the wrist of the hand I struck him with and cruelly jerks me forward. My body slams against his. The collision leaves me stunned and breathless.

  He tightens his hold around my wrist as he speaks. “Don’t ever in your fucking life hit me again. Do you understand me, Isabel?”

  I mention for him to free my wrist, but he only tightens his grip. I sag helplessly against his body. “Let me go!”

  “ANSWER ME!” He puts more pressure on my wrist. It feels like it’s going to snap at any second.