For three long, heavy seconds, she glared at him, though she was well aware there couldn’t be much heat behind the look. Huffing out a breath, she nodded once. “Fine. You’re a fucking bully, but fine. Just not today.” There was no way she was going out in these clothes, and she wasn’t going to let him see her apartment. Besides, she needed to regroup. She was sick of the way this man made her so damn bewildered. Lilith thrived on what little of her life she could control, and he was not making it easy.
He pressed his lips together. “Yes, I’m a mean, mean person. Suggesting lunch is so deviant.”
Lilith rolled her eyes. “Just text me. We’ll eat. Sometime.”
So smooth, Lilith.
She couldn’t get out of his apartment fast enough.
Chapter 12
This is crazy.
Hands on her hips, Lilith looked at her bed. It was covered in just about every outfit she owned.
Lilith wasn’t the kind of girl who cared about fashion. She doubted she would have been able to figure out what was considered sexy if Smith and the other girls hadn’t taught her. More than that, it was very rare for Lilith to think about her body at all. She looked in the mirror when she needed to straighten something, but it was a perfunctory glance at best. As long as what she was wearing fit and wasn’t too full of holes, she wore it. Period.
So why the hell she was so conflicted about her outfit, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as though there was a wide range of choices. She had jeans in various colors and T-shirts. She should have known without having to stare at everything she owned, she wasn’t going to come up with something so impressive out of nowhere.
Why was she noticing things like how frayed her jeans were? Her shirts were shapeless for the most part. And wrinkled. Everything was wrinkled. It had never bothered her before—why did it bother her now?
Get a grip.
“Uh. Whoa. What happened in here?” Dana asked, walking into the room.
“Nothing.” Lilith was in motion the second she heard her friend’s voice. She started to pick everything up. “I was trying to find this shirt.”
Dana paused, looking around. “Did you find it?”
“No.”
“Well, if you’re going to give up the search anyway, let’s go out tonight.” She shoved over some of the clothes so she could sit on the bed, her legs crossed. “We can have dinner and see a movie.”
For a second, Lilith was relieved and excited. This was a good excuse. Dana was more important . . .
No.
Trey had goaded her about this. He had outright told her she was going to come up with some excuse to get out of it. The insinuation had annoyed her, but here she was, jumping at her first chance.
She was all kinds of squirrely, and she was driving herself crazy.
“I can’t,” she said, sitting next to her friend with a huff, not caring that she was rumpling her clothes further. What was one more wrinkle? “I’m meeting someone.”
“Oh.” Dana looked away, but she couldn’t resist the obvious question. “A client?”
“No.”
That caught Dana’s attention. Her head snapped up. “Really?” She sat up on her knees, her eyes wide and excited. “Do you have a date? Is that why you’re tearing the closet apart?”
“It’s not a date!”
“Oh.” She sat back on her haunches. Disappointment turned into confusion. “Well, okay. If it’s not a date, and it’s not a client, who is it?”
Lilith had never quite understood what the term raised hackles meant, but it sure became clear to her then. If she was a cat, her back would have been arched, her fur standing on end. She was close to hissing. “It’s just a guy.”
If it were anyone else but Dana, the tone of her voice would have warned her she was treading on thin ice. “What guy?”
“God-dammit, Dana. He’s just a guy.”
Dana blinked at her, screwing her lips up to one side of her mouth. “Okay,” she said with a shrug. “I have a few things that would fit you. If you want.” She was playing it cool, but Dana was anything but subtle.
Lilith was rankled. She opened her mouth to snap that there was nothing wrong with her clothes, but she ended up nodding, remembering some of the cute things she’d see the other girl wear. “Fine.”
~0~
One of the things that made Lilith good at what she did was the fact she didn’t care what people thought. She could strut around in her birthday suit without a single fuck given. She didn’t care what she looked like on her back or on her belly or any other way anyone cared to have her.
In the end, she had refused Dana’s offer of borrowed skirts and fitted shirts. She wasn’t Dana; she couldn’t be Dana. She’d chosen from what she had as best she could, and there she was.
Fully clothed in the middle of the mall, surrounded by people who weren’t looking at her, Lilith had never been more aware of her own skin. She kept looking over her shoulder, getting that creepy-crawly feeling that someone was watching her.
“Are you trying to make me feel more comfortable?” Lilith’s words were an accusation as she fell in step behind Trey. She was aware in some part of her brain she was displacing her irritation and her self-conscious attitude on him, but she didn’t care.
He slowed down until they were taking equal steps. “What are you talking about?”
“A mall food court? Come on. I doubt you’ve ever stepped foot in a McDonald’s, let alone a mall food court.” She wasn’t sure she appreciated being catered to.
He gave her the side eye and shook his head. “You know, even rich teenage boys are still teenage boys.”
“What does that mean?”
“Will and I ate a lot. And we never agreed on anything, of course. So we’re in the car one day, arguing about where to eat, and my mom got sick of it. She pulled in here, gave us both twenty bucks and told us to go nuts.” He winked at her. “So seeing as I have no idea what your tastes are, I figured this was the easiest way to find out.”
He looked so pleased with himself, Lilith couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re like a Bond villain, telling me your evil plan before you can carry it through.”
His expression was sardonic as he looked over at her. “Yes, it is so very nefarious of me to want to know what you like to eat. How dare I?” He made a shooing motion. “Go on, then. Go find something to eat. I’ll be over at the Mongolian Grill.”
Lilith meandered away, her hands wrapped around her arms. She found the nearest line and joined it, looking across the way at Trey instead of at the menu.
There was something very wrong with this picture. It was like those children’s puzzles where there would be random things out of place—a picture hung upside down or something like that. She was having trouble figuring out what was off. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d never been here, so it couldn’t be her who was so “one of these things is not like the other.”
When she made her way to the table where Trey was already sitting, Lilith was determined to shake off the oppressive feeling. Par for the course, it seemed like Trey had different plans. He started in with his questions right away.
It should have been comforting. If Trey was barging ahead with his questions, maybe she wasn’t coming off as spastic as she felt.
Or maybe Trey’s considerate act was just that: an act. As she’d told him, it wasn’t unusual for men to imagine they were somewhere else, with someone else. Maybe being there with her, no costumes or pretenses, he’d let his guard down.
Maybe this was the real him—inconsiderate of her discomfort.
Lilith regained some of her sense of bravado. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t in skimpy clothes; she still knew her lines. She had answers to all his questions. Besides, he seemed to be asking all the inane things today: her favorite color, her favorite foods. Why he cared, she couldn’t fathom, but he didn’t look bored.
They lingered. Trey bought them cookies for dessert. Despite the familiar territory, Lilith found s
he couldn’t relax. Her eyes darted everywhere, though what she was looking for, she couldn’t say. At times, it felt as though the hair on the back of her neck was standing up.
When Trey got to his feet, she was more than a little relieved.
“Why don’t we walk around? Maybe window shop a bit.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Or maybe we can go crazy and shop for real.”
Lilith had to work to keep the dismay out of her voice. “You want to shop?”
He looked at her in that assessing way of his. “I’m not averse to it.” He cocked his head. “You want to go home, don’t you?”
“Your house is fine.”
For a second, it looked as though he was going to argue. Instead, he nodded. “Okay. Let’s go then.”
Maybe it was Lilith’s imagination, but the car ride seemed tense. She wondered if Trey was annoyed at her and found herself irritated at the thought. This was what he’d wanted. This was her, unadulterated. If he expected her to act a certain way, then he knew how to get his wish.
Why was he wasting their time with this?
“You know what? I’m going to get going,” she said when they pulled into his parking space.
Trey leaned over the steering wheel a little as he looked at her. There was a hint of incredulity to his expression, but it faded to grudging acceptance. “I’ll take you.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than she intended. “That’s fine. I can take a cab.” She put her hand on the door and started to get out.
“Agh.” Trey caught her by the arm. When she turned back, the look on his face was startling. It was a sad, frustrated look. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes sharp, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“What is your issue?” Lilith tried to yank her arm back, but he didn’t let go.
He didn’t answer right away, but the ire in his expression faded, leaving him looking very tired. When she tugged again, he let her arm slip out of his grip, and he sighed. “It’s just me, Lilith.” His tone was even, quiet when he spoke.
“What?” She didn’t understand what that was supposed to mean.
“It’s just me.” He shifted in his seat so he could face her. “Whatever it is you’re trying to hide from me? You don’t have to.”
“I’m not hiding anything.” Her words were hard, but her voice shook. Chills ran down her spine. Right then, there was nothing she wanted more than to be out of this car. “I’ve got to go.” She got the door open that time, but he was over to her side in a heartbeat.
“Lilith.” He reached out for her, but she twisted away.
“What do you want from me now?”
Indecision flitted across his face for a split second before he charged ahead. “Whatever you’ve got going on, I can handle it. What is it? Do you have a kid at home?”
“What? No.” She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as she started to walk away again.
“It’s obvious you don’t want me at your place, but I’m telling you, I can’t think of anything that would scare me away.”
Lilith whirled and glared at him. “What is wrong with you? All I said is I have to go. There’s nothing else going on here. I don’t know what you think—”
“Then let me take you home.”
“What?”
“If there’s nothing wrong, then let me take you home. You don’t even have to invite me in. Just let me drive you there.”
“All I said is I don’t need a damn ride, and that makes you think I have some kind of drama going on?”
“No.” His tone was intense, and she felt as though she could feel the weight of his gaze on her. “I think something’s going on with you because you lie to me constantly.”
Lilith froze, her back going ramrod straight. She turned back to him. “What?” Her tone was low, her mind blank. She wasn’t at all sure what she was supposed to be feeling.
It was obvious from the look on his face he’d said more than he wanted.
“Don’t stop now,” she said through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you mean.”
His shoulders slumped, but when he spoke, his voice was clear and steady. “When you told me why you do what you do for a living—it was from a song. I recognized it.”
Lilith’s stomach dropped right down to her toes. She said nothing. She was too afraid she was going to throw up.
“Everything you say, all the answers to my questions, are from a song or a movie or a book. I recognized most of them.”
It shouldn’t have surprised her. How often had he identified the pop culture references sprinkled throughout her conversation? She should have guessed he could tell when she was giving him answers from fiction rather than her own life.
For long seconds, Lilith couldn’t breathe, but right on the heels of panic was fury. She inhaled, clenching her fists at her side. “So what?”
His hands dropped to his sides, palms out—open and imploring. “So . . . I want to know your real story.”
She was silent.
Trey took a cautious step forward and then another until he was standing right next to her. As much as she wanted to, Lilith couldn’t move. Her head was spinning, and her heart was racing. The closer he got, the more her shoulders hunched inward. She ducked her head, angling her body away from him.
When he spoke, his voice was thin, as if he thought she were so fragile, even his breath could break her. “I know something really shitty caused you to be this way—playing off fictional life because you don’t want to face your real life. I don’t have to be a psych major to figure that out.”
Her head snapped up, and her eyes narrowed. “What is your major?”
He grimaced.
“You are a psych major, aren’t you?” She huffed. “You want to know what’s shitty? People who treat me and my life like I’m some fucking sideshow.” She got in his face then, anger gaining on every other emotion. “That’s all this is, isn’t it? You’re the fucking liar.”
“Lilith—” He tried to reach for her.
“No.” She scrambled backward. “What you said about that girl? Kassandra? That was all bullshit, wasn’t it? All those questions . . . you just get off on trying to get into my head. Well, trust me, you’ve gotten your money’s worth. I hope you’ve enjoyed it.”
“That’s not what—”
“Let me tell you something, Dr. Freud.” She was walking backward, her arms around her shoulders. “The only person who’s made me feel like crap lately is you.”
“Lilith—”
“Do not follow me.”
“Lilith!”
To his credit, though he called her name, asking, begging, her to stop and listen to him, he didn’t follow her.
She wasn’t running, but she was walking fast, as if she could outrun the tears that were stinging her eyes. Regret was a bastard of an emotion. Regret was something you knew when someone had become ingrained, become a piece of you, and as much as you wanted more than anything for it to disappear, it was impossible. It was removing an arm. Even if she could tear him out of the place he occupied in her heart and mind, he would be there—a phantom ache all the worse because she could still feel the missing space.
How could she have been so stupid?
Here she’d let herself enjoy his company, played right into his hands despite her better judgment. Every time she tried to pull away he would dangle another carrot in front of her, and like an idiot, she kept coming back. At least when she saw him during appointments she was giving nothing, but now that she’d given her free time, he had too much of her.
How dare he? How dare he talk like he knew every damn thing about her? Like he was so damn clever figuring out she was lying. He didn’t know anything.
But what did he know, anyway? Maybe she lied to the likes of him, but that didn’t mean she lived in fiction.
He was another asshole rich kid playing with his newest toy: his expensive degree in mind-fucking. She was just one big experiment. For the life of her, she couldn’t fi
gure out how she’d ended up playing right into his game.
Over and over again she replayed the days they spent together, recoiling when she touched upon a memory that made her ache. She was so lost in her head, she didn’t realize how far or how long she’d been walking.
She didn’t hear the footfalls behind her on the otherwise empty sidewalk.
She had forgotten the rest of the world existed before the footfalls were right next to her and an arm came down around her shoulders, pulling her tight up against a solid body.
Before she could scream, before she could react at all, there was a voice in her ear, his words dripping with malevolence. “Hello, princess.”
Chapter 13
Voices faded in and out. Time existed in surreal lurches and lulls. It was difficult to tell the difference between nightmare and reality when consciousness was just as unpleasant as her chaotic dreamscape.
Lilith was in the hospital—she understood that much. Doctors and nurses had been around, explaining why consciousness hurt. The police were still milling about. Once, when she brushed consciousness, she recognized the voice of one of the officers who’d questioned her.
“What’s your relationship to the victim?” he asked, and she heard Mal’s soft, sad tone when he answered.
At the word victim, some ingrained part of Lilith wanted to sit up and argue. She loathed that word with an intense, fiery passion. She hated the way it sounded and more importantly, hated the way it made her feel.
Victim was the word Mal’s therapist had used to explain why he’d been cutting the hell out of his upper arms. The physical pain of the cuts was preferable to the emotional agony he was in. It had come up again when Dana was in rehab, trying to get to the bottom of just what she was using the drugs to escape.
Lilith wanted to rail against this word, it didn’t apply to her, it couldn’t, but she didn’t have the energy. There were wet, ice cold blankets laid one, two, three thick on her chest making it difficult to move or breathe, let alone argue. Sleep beckoned, and Lilith followed.
Duplicity Page 9
