Bury Me with Lies (Twin Lies Duet Book 2)
Page 14
It’s a good question. One I’ve been asking myself since I left the mental institution and put everything in motion. Mackenzie is a risk I probably don’t need out in the world, but she doesn’t belong in there. My conversation with her yesterday proved that. She was still her, only a lot angrier. But being locked up and led to believe you’re crazy will do that to people.
It took us some time, but Dan found the names and addresses of her friends back in New York. I didn’t know if they knew anything about what was going on. I had a feeling they didn’t, which was why I reached out to them. They would be there for her when she needed them the most. As long as she has a safe place to go to when she gets out, that’s all that matters to me.
I am still working on the second half of my plan, actually getting her out of there. Dr. Aster and Dr. Goldberg are fighting me tooth and nail. For whatever reason, she doesn’t want her gone. They truly believe she belongs in there and that their sessions are actually making a difference.
It’s up to Mackenzie’s family to let her go. At first, I wasn’t sure how to get them to agree to release her from the care of the state for her mental health, but at the last minute, I decided meeting in person might work better.
I slip my cell into my pocket and rise to my feet, gabbing my keys as I go. “You’re right. We don’t trust each other. She thinks I killed her sister, and I’m certain she wants to kill me, but I can’t leave her in there. I know her well enough to know what her next move will be.”
Marcus sighs. “You sure you know what you’re doing? Why the hell didn’t you just correct her? Why let her think you’re the bad guy?”
“No. But I’m doing it anyway,” I say, gathering my belongings before I head to Ferndale. “She already thinks I’m the bad guy, might as well wait for her to come to her senses.”
“Sebastian,” Marcus says, a warning in his tone. “She’s not going to let this go, you know that, right? Once she’s out and better, she’ll come after you guys again. All of us.”
I smirk, quite enjoying the sound of that. “Oh, I’m counting on it. And I’ll be ready for her when she does.”
I sit parked in the driveway for a few minutes before preparing myself to go inside. The last time I looked at this house was years ago, when I was trying to decide what I was going to do with Mackenzie. Guilt works its way through my chest as I think about her parents and the role I played in them losing their daughter. That was what I got for trusting Vincent. For taking his word at face value.
After some time, I force myself out of the car and pause on the Wright’s porch. This could either go really well or really badly. I’m leaning more toward the latter when the door opens, and an older man, I’m assuming is Mackenzie’s father, glares at me.
“Can I help you?”
“I take it you’re Mr. Wright?”
“Who’s asking?” he cuts out, taking in my suit, his brows drawing together.
“Sebastian Pierce.”
The color drains from his face. “Benedict’s boy?”
I nod my affirmation. “Mind if we go inside and chat?”
Though a little unwilling, Mr. Wright invites me inside, and I’m led into an outdated kitchen that looks like it hasn’t been used in years. Everything looks staged and untouched. I take in the frail man before me. I remember him vaguely from my teenage years, and he was a lot bigger back then. Definitely healthier looking. The death of his daughter has obviously weighed on him.
I glance around the house, taking in the framed photos, and one thing that strikes me as odd is the fact they’re all of Madison. As if Mackenzie has been completely wiped out of the picture.
“What do you want?” Michael asks, cutting straight to the point. He obviously doesn’t like visitors in his house, which is fine by me. I don’t exactly want to be here right now either. The quicker I get this over with, the better.
For everyone.
“I want you to release your daughter from the state’s care. Transfer the conservatorship over to me.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “My daughter…Mackenzie? Why would I do that? She needs professional help, help her mother and I can’t give her.”
My patience grows thin as I stare at the man before me. For whatever reason, he has an obvious lack of love for his daughter. Or maybe losing one damaged him so much he forgot how to love the other one, but whatever the reason, he seems disgruntled even speaking about Mackenzie, and despite everything, that doesn’t sit right with me. Settling my hands on the table, I lean forward, catching his eye, careful to let him see just how much I mean business.
“That wasn’t a request, Michael. You’re going to let her out of that shithole because you and I both know, despite whatever crazy shit she’s spewed before, she doesn’t belong there.”
Michael grimaces. “She thinks her dead twin sister talks to her. Of course, she belongs in there. She’s a nutcase. She needs help, Mr. Pierce.”
My lips thin into a grim line. “She’s the nutcase?” Making a point to glance around and point out the obvious—they’ve wiped away her existence here. “You have your deceased daughter’s pictures hanging everywhere like this is a shrine.”
Michael glares. “It’s easier that way. Mackenzie was never her own person; she looked up to Madison in ways that were almost obsessive. There’s nothing hanging of her because she was never her own person. And how we choose to celebrate the life of our daughter is our right.”
“Release her. She’s obviously better off in my hands anyway.” Michael opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “I wasn’t finished.” His eyes narrow, but he remains silent, allowing me to go on. “Once you let her out of there, because you will, both you and your wife, you’re going to pass over guardianship of your daughter to me. Her next of kin will be me. Her life will be in my hands, not yours.”
If his eyes pinch any farther, he won’t be able to see a damn thing. “What did she do to you? Why would you want that burden?”
Burden?
Having conservatorship over his daughter is suddenly a burden?
With each word out of Michael’s mouth, I’m beginning to like him less and less. I’m also starting to put the puzzle pieces of Mackenzie Wright together in ways I wasn’t before.
“I have the paperwork here with me,” I say, ignoring all his questions. “All you need to do is sign.”
Uncertainty flits across his face, but he nods slowly after a few minutes of silence. I watch with rapt attention as he signs Mackenzie’s entire life over to me without so much as a speck of remorse on his face.
I shouldn’t be all that surprised. No parent who cared about their child would abandon them like they did to Mackenzie.
Once I’m back in my car, I give good old Dr. Aster a call and break the devastating news to her. Not only is Mackenzie under my care, but she’s free to go. She’ll no longer need to be a patient there or a sitting duck for Zach and whatever he has planned.
I wake up in a panicked sweat again, my gaze darting around the quiet, still room. Once my breathing evens out, and I realize where I am, the loneliness climbs back inside me. I don’t want to be here. I don’t deserve to be here.
As per usual, I go through the motions of feeling sorry for myself. It’s something that’s become second nature while I’ve been here. Alongside my physical therapy, my meals, and my psychoanalyzing with the doctors, feeling sorry for myself is just another part of my sentencing.
That is one of the things about being locked away, kept away from everyone else, supposedly for your own good. You start to go crazy. You start to wonder how you landed here in the first place. I’m questioning my life choices, questioning my sanity and everything that’s led me here.
It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve had contact with anyone who isn’t a doctor. I don’t expect Baz to come back anytime soon, especially not with how we left things. That was just a few days ago, and somehow, I think his visit has made things worse here. It’s made me crave freedom
even more.
I hate him.
I love him.
And I know I shouldn’t. He’s the one man in this world I know I shouldn’t love, but fate, life, God, whoever controls this bullshit, they’re playing with me. Toying with my emotions for kicks.
Sometimes, the two people who should be apart are the ones who find their way to each other. They’re the ones who end up in relationships, and that is Baz and I in a nutshell. We are bad for each other. We’ll never last, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking about him. Does any of that make me love him less?
God no.
I love him with my entire heart.
I hate him with every facet of my soul.
We are entwined. Our pasts colliding with our present, quite possibly even ruining our future.
Pushing out of bed, I reach for the crutches propped next to the rails and use them to pad toward the window, pushing past the curtains. I revel in the feel of the cool linoleum beneath my feet. The silvery light from the moon brightens the room, just a sliver from the curtain. The bars covering the window do their damnedest to ruin my view, but I look past them, toward the open lawn below. Toward freedom.
I wonder when the time will come for me to be out there. Without answering to someone. Without listening to people converse with themselves, or worse, have people look at you like you’re the one who’s insane.
With Madison gone, nowhere to be seen or heard, I really am alone. My parents don’t call or visit. Baz hasn’t been around, and I’m pretty sure Kat and Vera, my friends who are probably back in New York, living life without a care in the world, don’t even know where I am. I’d like to think they’re working on getting me out of here, but the truth is, I can’t blame them if they don’t help me. I lied. I hurt them. I most likely deserve all of this.
I startle when the door opens, and two nurses I’ve never seen before walk in. The main one looks annoyed, completely bothered that he had to come in here for whatever this visit pertains to.
“Come on, Wright. Time to go.”
I take a wary step back, my crutches clanging at the abrupt movement. “Go where?”
My stomach clenches with worry. This isn’t part of our routine. I’m never taken anywhere during the night. This is my time: to think, to dream, to hope. He shakes his head as if he knows where my thoughts have strayed.
“You’re going home.”
Home?
Where is home?
I stand there with my mouth gaping, shock filling my senses as I work to process this news. I’m finally going home. They’re letting me out of here for whatever reason. I know it isn’t because Dr. Aster thinks I’m better. It’s because of something else, or rather, someone else. I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If I am getting out of here, I will take it, no questions asked.
Following in step with the nurse, I pause over the threshold, looking back at the four walls I’ve been stuck inside for God knows how long now. I won’t miss it. We walk down the hall, my crutches slam against the ground, the nurse’s grip is tight around my bicep as he helps me make my way into the common area near the front desk. And when I see who’s standing there, tears fill my vision, distorting their figures. My chest caves, and I nearly drop to my knees and sob right here. But before I can, they’re there, arms outstretched, cradling me, holding me upright.
“Everything is going to be fine. I promise,” Kat coos in my hair, her arms tightening around me.
“I won’t let them win. I won’t let them hurt you,” Vera whispers vehemently, cinching her hold on me.
We pull away, and I wipe the tears from my eyes.
“How…how are you guys here? What happened?”
They share a look, and Vera tosses her arm over my shoulder, leading me out of the doors toward one of their cars.
“Come on, we have some things to talk about, babe.”
I talk one last glance at the mental hospital and grimace. Over my dead body will I ever step foot in that place again. Willingly or not.
After a long drive and a flight back to New York, I’m sitting uncomfortably on Kat’s couch, itching for answers. With my bad leg propped on the coffee table before me, I glance at my friends. Vera is next to me, sitting cross-legged, while Kat rests on her cute little furry chaise that’s across from us, her glamorous coffee table resting between us.
“So?” I prompt, darting my gaze between them. “What happened? How did you guys find me?” They’ve kept me in suspense, refusing to talk about anything until after we got settled back home.
“We read your email.” Kat pauses, and my stomach drops as I wait for her to go on. “And even though it was a shock at first, it wasn’t far off. We were upset, but after a day or two, we knew we had to do something. We couldn’t get ahold of you. Your phone was dead, and the resort wouldn’t give us any information, so we started to worry. I sent the piece to my dad and had him pull some strings.”
I clasp my sweaty palms together, twiddling my thumbs nervously. “What does that mean? Did he help you find me?”
They share a look with each other, having a silent conversation I’m not aware of. Vera shoots me a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yes. If it weren’t for Kat’s dad, we would’ve thought you were dead or fled the country after news of the accident broke. They didn’t give names, but after what we read, we had a feeling.”
“I had my dad pull some strings. He’s going to run your story on all the major news channels and every paper in the fucking country. Everyone is going to know your story, babe. Both of yours.”
I start getting choked up as I stare at my friends. I don’t know why I ever thought keeping my past a secret was a good idea. They’re here for me, actually here for me, despite what they know, despite everything I did. Emotion has a lump forming in my throat, and my eyes start to water.
“I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you guys have done all this for me.”
Vera curls her arm around my shoulders, squeezing ever so gently, silently telling me she’s got me. It feels good, after going so long without so much as someone to talk to in that place. The sensation of warm arms enveloping me has warmth curling in my chest. I’ve missed this, feeling like I have people who are on my side. That the whole world isn’t against me, and even if it is, at least I have these two I can count on.
“Let me make you some tea. I’ll be right back.” Vera slides off the couch, heading into Kat’s kitchen, her silk robe swaying with the sashay of her hips.
Kat regards me from her perch on the fuzzy chair, not saying anything, but the way she’s rubbing her lips together, like she’s trying to actively remain silent, is a dead giveaway. “What is it?”
She sighs. “I’m not going to lie. Part of me is still upset. With you, with me, and how I handled things.”
My brows dip. “You have nothing to be upset with yourself about, Kat. I should’ve told you the truth from the start. I don’t know why I didn’t. I just wanted to be this different person. I didn’t want to be Mackenzie Wright from Ferndale. I wanted to be Mackenzie Wright, the socialite. The happy-go-lucky woman with no baggage.”
“Honey, that’s just the thing. I always knew you weren’t who you said you were. I know my own type well. We’re mean, rotten to our cores. We’re spoiled brats and that has never been you, Mackenzie. That day in the bathroom, I knew you weren’t a guest at that party when we first met. I befriended you because if the roles were reversed, and I happened to be living the life you were, I hoped there would be at least one decent person in the world who would be there for me and lend a helping hand.”
My back straightens. “So, all those times you helped out financially and I said it was—”
“I gave you that money because I love you, Mackenzie. You didn’t need to hide who you were from me. I would’ve helped you regardless. But with everything that is happening, I just want to make sure that publishing that story is what you want. It’s going to destroy lives. All of their lives.”
/> The way she says it has my heart squeezing as I think of Baz. Some strange part of me still doesn’t want to hurt him, while another part of me wants nothing more. I think about the day he came to visit me at the institution, and I trap the inside of my cheek between my teeth and bite down hard, trying to erase the memory from my mind. Trying to wipe his existence from my brain and body.
I wish I could forget him.
I want to forget him.
But I can’t.
The only thing I can do is get him back for all the pain he’s caused me. That’s probably what he’s banking on, me caring about him so much that I would never do anything to hurt him, but he’s wrong. People change, and being held in that place for three, almost four months? I’ve changed, too.
I sniff, wiping at my nose, trying to get rid of the pressure there. “This is what I want. This what they deserve. Each and every one of them.”
She purses her lips like she wants to say more, tell me something she knows that I don’t, but Vera comes back into the room with tea and hands me a scalding mug.
“I’ve hired a lawyer for you because, even though this all is fact, they’re going to paint you as a criminal, and right now, in a court of law, you have everything stacked against you. Kat and her family’s team are on it. My family’s team is on it. You’re going to be untouchable, babe. I promise you.”
That news is the final piece that does me in. It prompts the dam to break, and I start crying. Right there with a scalding mug of tea in my hands, I break down, and for the first time since I woke up from the accident, I have someone there to hold me and put me back together.
I have two people, actually.
It’s official. Kat and Vera have set everything in motion. It’s only a matter of time before the shit hits the fan. And even though I’ve been waiting for this moment, it doesn’t feel as great as I thought it would. I’m not as happy or as relieved as I imagined I’d be. Instead, my stomach is tied in knots, a feeling of dread sinking in my gut.