Innocent Lies (11 page)

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Authors: J.W. Phillips

Tags: #adult abuse, #adult abuse recovery love, #romance adult contemporary, #adult and contemporary romance

BOOK: Innocent Lies
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“Are you okay?” Deacon barraged in
the room in her usual dogmatic way. “I’ve been calling you. There
is someone here to see you.”

 

“Who?” I asked and
smiled for the first time in a week. I suddenly realized, I wanted
to see Ethan.

 

“Some girl with a
delivery.” She yanked the covers. “Get up.”

 


Oh.”
No, Ethan.

 

I jerked on my robe and scrambled
to the front door, half-asleep. A cheap-looking blonde stood in our
living room holding a long white box.

 


Sign, please.” The blonde held out a clipboard
and smacked a piece of gum.
Classy.

 

“Thank you.” I
handed her the clipboard back, and took the box from her arms. I
laid it on the table and opened it. Inside was a massive bouquet of
orange primroses. I snatched the card that was nestled amongst the
flower petals.

 

My Beautiful Dylan, What can I do?
I can’t stand to get up every morning and go about my life as if
the world is okay. My world crumbled the day you turned your back
on me. I can’t eat, sleep, or even think straight. I know it hurt
when I ignored you whenever Victoria appeared. It killed me to do
it, but I didn’t have another choice. Give me an hour and let me
explain. Dylan, when I first held your hand I found my heart and I
will do anything to get it back. Always yours (whether you want me
or not), E

 

I started to hurl the flowers and
card into the nearest trashcan, but my heart wasn’t in it. They
smelled incredible and for one more night, I wasn’t ready to say
goodbye. I marched to my room relieved that no one followed me and
tossed them on the dresser. I rejoiced in the silence, not wanting
to talk. What was there to talk about anyway?

 

I laid in bed with my head buried
under the pillows trying to figure out what to do next. Going to
him was the simple answer. I didn’t even change out of my pajamas,
just grabbed my keys, and headed to my old car.

 

Sliding down the outside of
Ethan’s front door, I was unsure how I ended up there. My mind was
in a fog. Should I knock? Was he home? Was he alone? I pulled out
my cell. My fingers trembled as I typed out my first
text.

 

Hey, it’s me.

Are you up?

 

I glanced at the time on the cell.
It was three a.m. I doubted he was up, so the instant ping on the
phone was surprising.

 

Can’t sleep without my
privy

Want to talk?

 

No, not tonight

Remember when you told
me

to tell you what I
wanted?

 

Yes

 

Hold me

 

Where are you?

 

On your front porch

 

Moments from hitting the send
button, the door franticly opened and I flipped into the foyer.
Ethan looked down at me laughing. “Damn, I’ve had girls drooling in
the past, but never falling at my feet.” He knelt down and took my
hand pulling me to my feet. He grew serious. “I missed
you.”

 

“Hold me. I’m tired and can’t
sleep.”

 

He held my hand and led me down
the hall to his room. He didn’t switch on the light or even speak
as he helped me in the bed and crawled in with me. Next to him, I
fell asleep almost immediately.

Sunday, November 16,
2014

 

Groggy, I took in the
room of one Mr. Ethan Asher. The walls, draperies, and bedspread
were a creamy white; the carpeting was a deep brown. On the far
facing wall was a heavily carved, dark-stained cherry dresser. The
bed was intricately carved and covered in white gauze. The wall to
the left held a solid wood bookcase displaying miniature antique
cars and pictures of family and friends. I was pacified that not
one picture of Victoria was present. Over the bed, an oil painting
of a vintage
Thunderbird
hung.

 

However, it wasn’t
the surroundings that grabbed my attention, but the muscles under
the shirt I was slowly kneading. I worked my hand under his shirt
and traced over another one of his tattoos. It was of a spider web
that covered his entire left side. In the bottom right corner, an
open heart dangled from the web. I couldn’t stop from running my
finger along the heart.
My
poor, sweet E, his heart had been opened for love and I prayed I
would be the girl to give it to him.

 

“Good morning,
Privy.” Ethan’s voice was gruff and husky from sleep. “Sleep well?”
He pushed the hair off my forehead and let his finger linger down
my face.

 

Crap, I slept great.
Of course, I was in Ethan’s arms.
“I’ve never slept so sound. I feel normal in your arms, not
like a piece of trash.”

 

“I like you in my
arms. I was wondering if you would answer me one question and I
won’t ask another one,” he said. I rested my head lightly on his
chest as he begun to play with my hair.

 

“Will you answer me a few?” I
pulled the covers tightly under my chin, feeling
exposed.

 

He nodded his head. “Anything,” he
said and held me, cautiously. “Privy, why do you call yourself
trash all the time?”

 

That was a story I
didn’t know if I could share with him. He shifted his fingers
through my hair and rested them on my shoulder. I gripped his
fingers in mine and kissed each one of his knuckles. Who was I
kidding? My
mind couldn’t
refuse him anything. “I told you about my dad dying?”

 

“Babe, being an orphan doesn’t make
you trash.”

 

I held up my pointer finger
signaling for him to wait. “My life went into a downward spiral
when he died. Not only did my daddy die, but the part of my mom
that made her human die too. She started dating one loser after
another. One of them got her hooked on the hard stuff, and she
became a zombie. Then he came into our lives.”

 

I felt Ethan tremble. He held me
painfully tight.

 

“Louie found enjoyment in hurting
me.”

 

“Did he touch
you?” Ethan asked. My head popped up at the sound of his voice. It
was equivalent to pure evil. My mind didn't know how to process
everything around me, so after taking a couple of deep breaths, I
sat up. He tugged me back onto his body. "Stay with me." That was
not the problem, I wanted to stay with him.

 

“He never hit me, pushed me around
a lot.” I shivered as Ethan’s body became rigid. “He made me their
slave. I did everything for them. The hardest was cooking every
night. We never had a lot of food. So when I cooked, my stomach
hurt because I was so hungry and I never knew if I would get to eat
or not.”

 

“Why?”

 

“He forced me to sit in the corner
and watch them. I only got to eat after they were done. Hardly ever
was there any left.” I paused. “I got to eat at school, but had to
be careful, the kids already thought I was a freak, so I couldn’t
gorge like I wanted too.”

 

“I would love to
kill him.” Ethan was scary still. It was as if I was lying in the
arms of a slab of stone. The only thing to let me know he was with
me was the way he squeezed my upper arm.

 

“You don’t have
to.” I masked my face onto his chest. The last time I spoke to my
mom, she said I ruined her life because I killed the only men who
ever loved her. My dad was rushing home to see my school play when
the accident happened, and Louie shot himself to avoid prison for
what he let them do to me. “He’s already dead.”

 

I planted a kiss on his chest. I
needed courage for what was to come. “They owned some bad people
money, one night three monsters showed up to collect. Louie gave me
in trade.” Reliving the memories made me panic. I had a hard time
breathing, and could almost hear the harsh breaths of the men who
broke me. Who made me unlovable. Who took a piece of me I could
never get back--my sanity. I stopped, got up, and didn’t look back
as I headed to the bathroom, hearing each step he took behind me. I
slammed the door, sliding down it until my ass hit the marble
flooring, and wrapped my arms around my knees. It was cold and
hard, but it was paradise compared to the cold and unforgiving
truck bed they tied me into.

 

“Privy, please,
let me in. You can tell me everything or not say another word.
Either way it won’t change how I feel about you.”

 

Hearing his voice caused me to
sink into a tighter ball. I wanted to make myself as small as
possible, invisible. He slowly pushed the door open, shoving me
with it. I stood up and stared at him through the veil of my
hair.

 

“No, you won’t.” I scraped the hair
off my face and squared my shoulders. I couldn’t stand there
another minute and took a step. “They raped me. I can’t get passed
it. So I know you can’t.”

 

Ethan lunged and yanked me to him.
“Don’t ever tell me what I can and can’t do. I don’t give a damn
what you did to survive. But I will promise you this, those guys or
anybody else will never hurt you again.”

 

We maintained eye contact, simply
because I was unable to look away. Ethan had the power to control
me with a simple glance; that small part of me that willed me to be
me. That part wanted nothing more than to see him happy. “I had
never even kissed a boy. They took that. After they got through
with me, the worst one tied me in the back of a truck. It was so
cold and it seemed like we rode forever. When they finally stopped
and started untying me, I hit the most monstrous one and ran.
Instantly, he was on top of me. He wouldn’t stop. Over and over
again, he would hit me with such force. The other two stood there
and laughed. One kicked me a few times, but the one wouldn’t stop.
I tried fighting them. I did. But I couldn’t take anymore. I just
couldn’t take it, and luckily blacked out. I remember them pouring
cold liquid on me and found out later it was lighter fluid. They
thought I was dead.”

 

“Do you know what stopped them?” He
brushed his fingers across my face. “Think, Privy.”

 

“Some campers came upon us. One of
them held me as the other two went for help. The pain was
indescribable. It took three days for them to get back. It was
cold. I kept slipping in and out of consciousness. He never left my
side. I tried finding him after I got out of the hospital, but
never did.” My face was smashed onto his chest. It was hard to
talk, but so easy to feel. “Other than you, he was the only person
to ever show me love since my dad died.” I said as the tears
spilled from my eyes.

 

“Sarah and Deacon care about
you.”

 

“They’re great
friends, but friendship is different from love. You’ve proven
that.”

 


You captured my heart.” He swept his fingers through my
hair. “Privy, we complete each other.”
His tongue peeked out and swiped across his
upper lip. “Come on, Privy.” He led me back to the bed and laid
down, pulling me down beside him. I wrapped my hand around his. All
I wanted at that moment was for him to hold me and tell me that
everything would finally be okay. I listened to his beating
heart.
Why after all the
times he turned his back on me did I feel so free to share my past
with him?

 

Ethan whispered in my ear. “We
belong together. You feel it too.” He sucked on my
earlobe.

 

“Jameson Taylor is why I call
myself trash.” I blurted out without a thought.

 

“What?”

 

“My home life was
the pits and school was no better.” I gazed at his beautiful face.
He kept his eyes on me. I didn’t know if he was giving me a look of
pity or if he was really brokenhearted. I hated sympathy. Still, I
reached up and ran my fingers through his uncharacteristic three
day stubble. I had to turn on my side unable to look at him and
continue. “I wanted a friend. I needed to know at least one person
in the world cared if I was even alive. I tried my hardest to look
nice. I always . . .” I glanced back at him.

 

His eyes appeared to be watering
as he pushed a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. “Privy, you’re
killing me here.”

 

“I need you to
understand. I always tried my best with what I had . . . I smiled
at everyone and prayed someone would at least smile back. He did.
He was the new boy and he was stuck with me as his partner in math.
He was always cutting jokes. He liked me I don’t doubt that, but
they got to him. He was new and I was a sinking ship.”

 

I turned my back to him again. I
could no longer stare into his face and tell him about all my
emotional scars. His body formed around mine. He didn’t flinch or
grow tired of my emotional damage. “One day, he got enough of the
taunting. So when I got to class that day, I ran up to him happy
someone cared. That is when he busted out laughing and said ‘You
can’t really believe we’re friends. I would rather hump trash than
even touch you. The nastiest junk in town.’ It stuck and from that
day forward I was known as Icky.”

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