Grand Lies (The Promise Duet Book 1)

by JC Hawke

  So why is he taking the ink and seeping himself into my soul?

  Mase sits with his back against my headboard. A coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. His head pops up when I walk into the room, fresh from a shower and still in my towel.

  “Come here,” he demands.

  I go to him, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, but he grabs me by the hips and pulls me to straddle him.

  “I’m going to be late. You’re going to be late,” I complain, but make no move to get up.

  “I promise you won’t be late, Nina.” He leans in, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “I need to apologise for what I said to you on Saturday night. It was a heat of the moment comment, which is no excuse. I know I hurt you.”

  I drop my head, sitting quietly for a moment, not knowing what to say.

  He lifts my chin. “Say something.”

  I swallow hard, unsure what the right thing to say is. “I want to start fresh, forget about everything that’s happened.”

  “Start fresh.” He frowns. “That simple?”

  I lean into him, giving him a long, deep kiss. “Nothing’s ever that simple, Mase.” I smile sadly. “But as far as my mum goes, I want you to forget. I can deal with her. If I need your support, I will ask for it, and I’d like to think you’d do the same with your dad. I only want to know the things you’re ready to tell me.” I pause, thinking about my journey home with Vinny. “I actually have a confession to make, and you aren’t allowed to get mad.”

  He frowns, waiting.

  “I was in the car with Vinny when you called him on Sunday morning, and I was the one who sent you my number. I needed a lift home and didn’t know who else to call. I asked Vinny not to tell you. I’m sorry. For leaving… and about your dad.” I drop my shoulders, feeling like a weight has been lifted.

  He pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. “Vinny already told me.”

  My eyes shoot wide. “What?”

  “I pay him a lot of money to tell me, Nina. He called after dropping you off at the studio.”

  “That bastard! So I can’t trust Vinny. Great.”

  Vinny was my favourite.

  He chuckles at my dramatics. “Vinny’s a safe bet. If you ever need to trust a man, you’d be wise to pick him.”

  I roll my eyes. They clearly have a good relationship with the way they both seem to defend one another.

  Mason seems to be lost in thought, staring at his hand on my hip.

  “What is it?”

  He lets out a deep breath, hesitating before speaking. “Nina, I need to tell you something, something I found when I looked you up. Purely for your flat number, I should add.”

  “Yeah, okay, creeper,” I joke, trying to laugh off the knot forming in my stomach. “There’s nothing in my past I want to talk about.” I lick my lips, wanting to retreat away to my safe space again. “Please drop it.”

  “I don’t think you know about what I found. I think it was hidden from you. I could be wrong, but—”

  “What? What could you possibly know about me that I don’t already? I mean, it’s my flipping life after all.”

  “Nina, calm down, please.” He cups my cheek, pulling his lip between his teeth.

  Whatever it is, he doesn’t want to tell me.

  Dread fills me.

  “Tell me, now, Mason.”

  He works on a swallow, rolling his lips. “Have you ever met your father?”

  His hand clamps down on my waist the second I go to move. “Wait, please. You said you want to start fresh, and if I don’t tell you this now, then it will come back to bite me in the ass down the line.”

  Down the line? Like the future?

  “Have you? Ever met him?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “Okay, do you know anything about him?”

  “He was a client, someone who tried to have me erased. My mother found out about me too late.” I run my tongue across the front of my teeth in contempt. The more I think about the woman, the more my blood boils.

  He pulls me closer, smoothing a hand down my back. “I don’t think that’s true. Your mother has been receiving payments from someone since the day you were born. Every month, for the last twenty-eight years, Nina.”

  I lean back, finding his eyes. I think I’m in shock. No words leave me.

  “I have a name, if you want it.”

  I shake my head, unable to find the words. “I don’t understand.”

  “I think he’s your dad, and if the payments are for child maintenance, they aren’t small. It’s a lot of money.”

  “I need to get to the studio. I have so much to prepare for the showcase.”

  He lets me get up, and I start to dress on autopilot. He stands and reaches for me, clasping my hand in his.

  “I’ll call Vinny. Get us a lift. I’m here if you need me, Nina.”

  I nod, swallowing the bile that threatens to come up.

  It’s all too much.

  Fuck this.

  Ninety-seven. The number of water droplets I’ve counted on the Audi’s rain-soaked glass. It’s all I can think about—until it’s not.

  My father, the man I thought for years didn’t want a thing to do with me, who I thought didn’t even know about me, has been paying my mother maintenance.

  He might know me. My name and definitely my age.

  I never cared growing up. Why would I want a dad who was like the rest of them? The vile men who still haunt my dreams to this day. I had learnt to stop wondering, to stop hoping for him to show up, eventually latching onto John.

  He was the one who took me to anything important, and when it was time for the dad race on sports day, it was always him who would go twice. Once for each of his girls.

  What is my mother playing at? Is the money she has been receiving even for me? What if it’s something else? It still doesn’t explain why she would need more than what she gets from the government and me. The hurt is frustrating, I don’t want to feel a thing for her, not anymore.

  I used to hold on to the memories. A handful of good that most would deem just standard parenting. The days she would turn up to school on time, looking fresh and happy. The times I’d open the cupboards and find food. And my favourite thing became something twisted. Whenever I hurt myself, the pain would bring me an embrace. She would hold me in her arms for a while, and life always seemed to feel a little less shit.

  She has been lying to me for years, that much I’m sure of, but I don’t understand why? It’s all I’ve been able to think about since Mase told me. Is she that messed up that she didn’t want me to see him? Or does he just pay her to keep her away, to keep me away?

  Mason’s strong hand latches onto my inner thigh, pulling my attention from the window. “Nina.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he sits quiet, not saying a thing. He feels sorry for me. The pity is etched into the planes of his face.

  “I’m fine, Mase.” I turn my face away, not being able to lie to him.

  “Nina.”

  “What?!” I snap.

  He doesn’t hesitate as if he expected my irritation. “I won’t let you be alone in this. You need someone to talk to. Talk to me,” he says, pulling my hand to rest in his lap.

  “I will call the girls later.”

  I know he is trying, but I’m too far gone in my head right now to focus on him. I need space.

  I wish I walked to work.

  “I can find my own way home tonight.” I decide.

  He stops fiddling with the bangle on my wrist. “You said we would start afresh?” The vulnerability in his voice has my eyes gravitating to his.

  Guilt fills me. Maybe he needs me just as much as I do him.

  I unbuckle my belt and climb into his lap, hiding my face in his neck like a child. I breathe him in, his woodsy scent grounding me.

  “I meant what I said. I want to start fresh, but this” —I gesture between us— “it’s all too much. I have my showcase coming up, and you said yourself I nee
d to get on top of the studio. So much threatens my dreams Mason, and not physically but mentally I can feel myself slipping.” I shake my head. “We don’t need to be one of those things. Just give me time.” I pull back to look at him. “Please?”

  “Can I see you tonight?” he asks, pulling me closer.

  I smile softly. This beautiful man wants to spend time with me. He’s known me a week and shows more worry for me than most have in my lifetime. “No. But I will call, just give me a few days.”

  His shoulders drop, and he lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t like this.”

  “I know. But…” I roll my lips, giving him an inch. “I want to be ready for us, Mase, and right now, I don’t feel like I am. Just give me some time.”

  He smiles down at me sadly as he leans in to kiss my temple. “Alright.”

  Vinny followed me home. I’m not sure if he was trying to be discrete, but the Audi was always within a short distance behind me each time I looked back.

  Running always allowed me time to think, so the urge to stop and get a lift was strong.

  Knowing it is Mason being overprotective, I didn’t stop and bitch at Vinny for following me. If I’m honest, I don’t know how I would feel if the Audi wasn’t outside the studio after I finished work.

  Mason’s thoughtfulness and need to keep me safe only makes me want him more. I’ve never had someone take such concern in my whereabouts. Maybe that’s one of the things that is holding me back.

  I bend, my hands planted on my knees as my lungs gasp for air. Tilting my head up, I stare up at my building.

  “You’re quick, girl!” Vinny smiles at me from the front seat.

  He leans down on the passenger side and grabs a bottle of water then holds it out to me.

  “Vinny, my apartment is right there. Tell your boss he needs to ease up on the plastic. He is already putting unnecessary emissions into the air by following me home.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell him.” He smirks.

  I know he won’t.

  “See you later, Vinny. Thank you.” I wink, jogging up the steps.

  The moment I get to my floor, I hear them, and I close my eyes in anticipation, wondering if I should go back to the studio.

  Why are they even here?

  I push into the apartment and find the entire living space in smoke. “What the hell?!”

  “Nina! Hey, you’re home!” Lucy shouts.

  I flap my hand in front of my face as I try to make them out through the smog. Lucy is on Megan’s shoulders, flapping a tea towel at the smoke alarm.

  I begin to cough, the smoke being drawn into my lungs. “Jesus Christ!”

  I rush to the window, opening it as far as it will go, then stalk to the kitchen where I grab the oven glove and throw the smouldering baking tray into the sink.

  “Seriously?!”

  Megan ducks down, letting Lucy fall to her feet.

  “Chinese or Indian?” Luce cringes.

  “What are you guys even doing here?” I ask around a mouthful of noodles. The girls sit on the sofa behind me, both with towels wrapped on top of their heads. The apartment still smells like smoke, but at least we no longer do.

  “Mason messaged,” Megan says casually.

  “And told you what exactly?”

  “That you needed us.”

  “That’s it? That’s all he said? He didn’t say why?”

  “Nope, he isn’t a chatty man, Nina.” Lucy shrugs.

  “Sooo… what did he do?” Megan asks.

  I face forward again and drop my head back to the sofa. “Nothing. Everything.”

  “That’s fucking helpful,” Megan mumbles, poking me in the cheek with her toe.

  “Get your foot out of my face!” I slap her away, using the moment to drop the bomb, hoping it will lessen the sting. “My mum has been receiving money from a man for the past twenty-eight years. From the day I was born.”

  “What?” Lucy sobers, sliding down to the floor next to me, as Megan appears at my other side. “Do you think…”

  “Yup.”

  “And she didn’t tell you? Why?” Lucy bites out.

  I shake my head, even though I’m certain of the answer. “I’ve been over it in my head all day. I presume he paid her to keep quiet. Mason said it was a lot of money. Maybe Mum was a dirty secret. She said he was a client.”

  “Nina, why are you paying your mum money when she is already receiving it elsewhere? What is she spending it all on?”

  “I have no idea, but I plan to put a stop to it.” I shake my head. “Mason called you?”

  “Uh-huh. He called us.” Megan chuckles, nudging me with her elbow. “You want to talk about it?”

  “No, but it beats the hell out of talking about my mum.” I sigh. “God, girls, I don’t even know where to start.”

  “This is why we are here.” A glass of wine is slipped into my hand. “Start at the beginning.”

  Mase

  Seven days.

  I knew she was stubborn, but to go a week, keeping me at a distance, and for what? How much time did she need? She calls every night, driving me nuts with her words, but still, she tells me she needs more time.

  I’m just about done with waiting.

  With London’s skyline laid out before me, I stand and look upon the people below, wondering what she is doing right now.

  My intercom buzzes, Alice’s voice filling the room. “Mr Lowell, your father is on the phone.”

  The old man is sober then.

  I round the sofa and drop down at my desk. Taking in a deep breath before answering. “Dad?”

  “Mason, my boy. How are you?”

  I snicker, his false bravado not fooling me. “Me? Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

  “I know. I promised you and your sister I’d get on top of it. And I am.”

  “No, Dad, we need you to get off of it. Not on top of it.” I rub my hand down my face in frustration.

  “Mason, I’m doing my best. I haven’t been drinking. Last week was just hard, with your mother’s anniversary—”

  “Just stop,” I cut him off, refusing to allow the words to settle in me. I don’t want to be reminded of the day my mother left me.

  “Your sister, she is cooking a meal for us tomorrow. She invited the Montgomerys and Charles. Did you want to ask anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, please don’t be late, Mason. Scarlet just wants some normalcy. We haven’t had you here for more than five minutes in years.”

  I snicker into the phone. He has no idea.

  “I’m trying, Mase. It’s all I can do right now.” I can hear him getting choked up, and it’s the last thing I need.

  “I will be there. Tell Scar to send me the details.”

  “I love you, son.” I hear him say just as the phone hits the cradle.

  Nina

  “Girls!” I yell at Vienna and Sophie, who seem to be more absorbed in what’s on the phone in Vienna’s hand than the routine we are working on.

  “Ladies, if you want to leave, then go. I’m out to win, and you may be important to that goal, but I will replace you in a millisecond if you don’t get off that damn phone and nail this section.” I give them a nod and leave it at that, not wanting to seem like a complete hag.

  For the most part, the girls all love me. We have a tight bond that I’ve spent the last year working for, and I make sure we have fun, but to keep it professional I have to have rules. They know this.

  “Sorry,” Sophie says, moving to the back of the group. “Henry is in today, and Vee couldn’t help but insta stalk him.”

  “Shameless! The lot of you,” I tease, shaking my head. “Last time from the dip to cross over, and we are taking a break.”

  The girls smash it as always, making me more excited about the showcase. We seriously have a chance, I know it. As newcomers, I want to make waves, and these girls are my tsunami.

  Skipping down the steps, I grin wide when I see Henry at the desk. The
girls aren’t wrong. Henry is gorgeous—too young for me, but still, I can’t help but enjoy the eye candy down here.

  His girlfriend Gemma is on the treadmill, and his eyes are glued to her.

  “You look pervy,” I say, elbowing him, then waving to Gemma when she spots me.

  “Nina,” he mutters in greeting, making a show of not looking away.

  “You need to tone it down; you’ve got my girls all flustered.”

  “Just your girls?” He eyes me, popping a brow.

  “In your dreams, baby boy.” I laugh, disappearing into the staff room to get my lunch.

  It’s a decent size space considering we barely use it. I prefer to eat up in the studio and the boys normally inhale their food before they make it to the rickety old table that’s pushed up against the wall. It’s more of a storeroom for everything we don’t want people to see.

  Henry comes in just as I’m manoeuvring my soup out of the microwave. “There’s a letter from the music license company and one from the bank. This one is addressed to a Miss C Langer though.”

  He nods his head to the three envelopes, grabbing my bowl and moving it closer when he sees I’m burning my fingers on the tub.

  “Thanks, probably a wrong address. I’ll return to sender.”

  “Logan found this on Friday too, said you were looking for it.” A key dangles from a chain in his hand.

  “Yes! My boys! What would I do without you?” I jump up, punching him in the arm, pleased I won’t have to explain to Erin why she can’t get into the office next week.

  In my glee, my hand catches the soup container, flipping it from the counter. It coats my stomach and leg, burning into my skin.

  “Oh my god!” I begin to swipe the boiling hot soup off me, but I can feel my skin already tingling underneath.

  “Fuck, take off your tights. I will get the first aid kit! I think we have some burn gel.”

  I lift my top so that it’s off my stomach but still covering my breasts, then start shimmying out of my tights as fast as I can.