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Authors: Heather Lyons

BOOK: Matter of Truth, A
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Lee Acacia is now in that weird defeated yet pissed off
stage. He’s shaking his head, drumming his fingers against the counter,
rattling his cup and silverware balancing on the edge of his plate.

Will leans down and says quietly, “Want to explain why
you’ve been ogling that bloke?”

He can’t think . . .
No
. I visibly shudder and tell
him the truth. “He’s been staring at
me
. It’s kind of creepy.”

Will straightens and then, without warning, heads down to
where the Tracker is sitting. “Can I get you anything else?” he asks. “Dunno if
you noticed or not, but we’re closing in five.”

The Elf rips the phone away from his ear, apparently
startled to find Will hulking over him. Only one other couple is left in the
diner, but they’re digging out their money. Paul is in his office, probably
searching the Internet for motocross videos. “Uh . . .”

Will is apparently enough to scare the Elf away, at least
for tonight. After the last person leaves, I drop into a chair, my hands
trembling.

Howhowhow did he find me?

“Is that your ex?” Will asks after a long moment.

“What? EW! No!”

“Alright then. Want to tell me why he has you in knots?”

We used to not push each other much. Lately, living
together, especially since the alcohol-poisoning incident . . . we push all the
time. The deeper our friendship gets, the more we care. The less we’re able to
ignore. “Will, I—” I shake my head. I can’t put him at risk. I can’t.

“Don’t shut me out. Something is going on, and I’ve been a
prick for too long, letting you get away with it. Whatever it is, you know you
can trust me to help, right?”

They’d come and take him away, if they found out he knew.
Annar would swallow him whole or erase his memory, and I don’t know if I could
stand Will Dane being punished because he made the mistake of caring for me.
I’ve hurt too many people I love already.

“Zoe.” He grabs my hands. He’s so steady. “I hope you’re not
thinking I’m going to judge you. Or . . . I don’t know. Stop talking to you. Or
caring. Or do anything other than be your best friend. No matter what it is,
let me in. Let me help you.”

I should wait until he goes to sleep tonight and leave. He’d
be safe then. Cameron, too. I’d miss them, but I could do it. I let the two
most important people in my life go, the ones that I love more than my own
life. I can let the Dane boys go, too, if it meant they’d be okay, especially
now that Annar’s come sniffing around.

He sighs and lets my hands go. “What can I do to convince
you to trust me?”

He shouldn’t trust
me
. “I do, it’s just . . .”

“Just what?”

The truth. “I’m scared.”

“Of me?”

I shake my head. No. Never him.

“Of . . .?”

More truth. “Hurting you.”

His eyes widen before he laughs. “You’re kidding, right? You
weigh, what, a hundred—”

I cut him off. “There’s stuff about me that you don’t know.
Stuff that could possibly change how you see me.”

“Impossible.”

“And yet true.”

He sits down on the red vinyl seat next to me, swiveling
until we face. “Well, here’s what I think I know about you. You ran away from
wherever you really came from, which I never believed was Hollywood.”

I can’t help the eye roll. That was all Ginny. I just never
denied it.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”

I rub my temples. More like
I’m
trouble.

“Am I wrong?” Will’s concern brings my attention back in
focus.

“No,” is my answer.

 

 

Later that night, I change my mind and decide to tell Will
and Cameron everything. Or, at least, everything I can without outright signing
them up for matching lobotomies. I spring it on them as they nurse a pair of
Guinnesses, shouting at the hockey game on TV.

“You were right about everything, Will. I did run away.”

Both heads snap toward me. It takes approximately two
seconds before Cameron shuts the television set off.

“Bloody hell, lass,” he murmurs.

I swallow and mentally cross my fingers that they’ll still
be here when I’m done. Or, rather, I’ll still be here. “I was in . . . a bad
situation where I used to live. I had a very stressful job that . . .” I flash
back to Jens Belladonna’s claims of how I’d been responsible for a couple of
nons’ deaths during a mission I oversaw. Even thinking about it now steals the
air straight out of my lungs. “I had to do things I didn’t necessarily agree
with. Things I wouldn’t choose to do if I had a choice.”

Will’s eyes are so dark, and yet, probably the most
expressive I’ve ever seen. Right now, he’s staring at me with an uncomfortable
mix of pity and
I knew it!
“What kind of job?”

Admitting I’m a Creator would go over well, I’m sure.
Magicals have too often been thought of as monsters by nons who know nothing of
our kind. “I can’t tell you that. Can you trust me enough to—”

“Of course I trust you.” His smile is small but genuine.
“And, Zo, more importantly—you can trust me.”

“Us,” Cameron clarifies. He motions to the recliner near the
couch, and I sit down on the edge, Nell hopping up behind me. I don’t want to
rock. I’m too nervous to do anything but perch on the edge and await my fate.

But hearing Will call me that name, that nickname that’s
just his to use, is too much. I need to correct it immediately, even if I might
as well be signing my death warrant. “About that. My name isn’t Zoe.”

I worry I’ve frozen time again, because both men still
completely—Cameron with his beer halfway to his mouth, Will while reaching for
his own drink.

I want to whisper, but I force my voice to carry across the
living room. “Zoe is the name I chose when I came to Anchorage.”

They’re regarding me like I’m the fraud I am. And I hate it.
But if they’re gonna despise me, they’re gonna do it with all the info I can
give. I touch my hair. “This isn’t my real hair color.” My index finger traces
my lower lash line. “My eyes aren’t really blue.” I scrub my face tiredly. “My
parents aren’t . . . they’re not dead. But they’ve pretty much disowned me, so
it sort of feels like I’m orphaned. I’m from California, but not Hollywood. I
lived near San Francisco.” I press my hand over my heart. I think it’s breaking
again. It’s a thing, my heart and breaking. It happens way too often. “Please
believe me when I tell you I’ve never lied about how I feel about you two.”

Will reaches out and lightly presses his fingers against my
hair, like it’s brittle and he’s afraid it will clump off if there’s too much
pressure.

I have to keep going, though. I owe it to them. To me. “The
job . . . it was hard, yes. But I was also . . .” My lower lip trembles. “I am
. . . maybe
was
engaged.” I nod once. “And it was . . . amazing, really,
but also complicated, because I cheated on him.”

Will’s hand falls away from my hair as he drops back onto
the couch.

I fight to keep my voice above a whisper when I admit the
crime I rarely let myself acknowledge. “I hate myself for it. I’m not . . .
I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I don’t know what to do anymore.” Or, worse
yet, who I am.

There’s surprise in Will’s eyes. Pity, too. And more than a
wee bit of scorn, because the wound Becca and Grant’s cheating inflicted hasn’t
healed fully, and he knows just how much that can gut a soul. Cameron,
though—he’s all pity, and it slays me to see him look at me like that. Like he
wants to give me a hug and tell me it’s all going to be all right.

Like a dad should, even when his daughter makes the wrong
choices. Even when she’s breaking his heart.

I draw in another shuddery breath. “So, here I am. Zoe
White, in Anchorage, Alaska. That guy at the Moose—I think he’s from my work. I
think they’re looking for me.”

So much of me wants to ramble on right now, justify what I
did and why, but fear smothers me in its grip. I was going to lose the Dane
boys anyway once I ran again, but this might be worse. They might willingly
choose to kick me out of their lives—especially Will, whose trust has been
broken too many times to count, too.

He ends up chugging his beer before staring at the ceiling.
Then he gets up, paces the room a few times, all the while looking lost and
pissed at the same time while I remain statue still on the recliner.

Cameron says quietly, “What is your real name, hen?”

I tell him the truth. Will snorts a laugh from across the
room; it’s small, barely a breath, but it’s a laugh all the same.

“Obviously, you’re not a runaway spy like I thought at
first,” he says. “Your hiding skills are shite. Your name is Chloe Lilywhite,
and you chose
Zoe White
?”

If only it was as simple as me being an ex-spy.

“Chloe is a beautiful name,” Cameron says. “It suits you
better.”

Will takes a few steps closer. “Promise me your ex wasn’t
abusive.”

Cameron’s eyebrows shoot up and then down. Both pairs of
dark eyes pin me further into the recliner.

I don’t hesitate. “He’s . . .”
Swallow. Breathe. Swallow.
Breathe
. “He’s the best person I know. The very best. He would never hurt
me. Ever.” Not like I hurt him, anyway.

“If he was all those things, why would you cheat? Why would
you do that to him?” Will looms over me, his arms crossed, his back rigid.

Any explanation but the truth is only going to make me sound
awful, but how can I explain a Connection without spilling the entire mess? I
chew on my lip and stare at my hands, laced tightly in my lap. “It’s
complicated.”

“Bollocks.”

Cameron counters with, “Son, let her explain before you pass
judgments.”

“When somebody cheats, they do it purposely,” Will continues
heatedly, as if his father hadn’t spoken. He glares down, and it hurts so much
to see the distrust in his eyes. But I deserve it. I did something awful.
Unforgiveable. “It’s not like your lips accidentally fell onto someone else’s.”

I blink back the sadness threatening to spill over my lash
line.

“Son.” Cameron stands up, his large hand going straight to
his son’s shoulder. “
Chloe
did not cheat on you. She is not Becca.” His
fingers curl gently around the base of Will’s neck. “We do not know what drove
her to do what she did. Don’t go getting furious with her for something that
has nothing to do with you.”

Will closes his eyes and nods. “I know. I’m . . . I’m a
prat. I’m sorry, Zo—
Chloe
. It’s just—”

“It’s an unforgiveable thing.” I clear my throat; and then,
because it’s hard to hold it in any longer, tears snake down my face. “I get
why you’re mad at me.”

“Yeah. No—” He gives me a sad smile. “Not unforgiveable. At
least, not to me.” He squats down in front of me. “I’m . . . I’m not going to
lie to you. To hear that you’ve done this stuff, yeah, I’m disappointed—because
you know how I feel about cheating, how it tore me apart.”

A heavy stone slowly sinks to the pit of my stomach.

“I personally can’t ever see a time in which this is
acceptable, but I also haven’t walked in your shoes. You can tell me to bugger
off, that it’s none of my business. But I’m calling bollocks on your excuse.”
His smile grows a fraction of an inch. “Family doesn’t let you get away with
that kind of crap excuse.”

Cameron slaps Will’s shoulder blades and sits back onto the
couch. “Hen, it does my heart good to know you trust us enough with the truth,
as painful as it may be.” His smile starts strong but fades. “But Will’s right.
If you’re going to be honest with us, be honest.”

My left hand’s felt wrong the entire time I’ve been in
Alaska. The ring that I used to wear, the special Dwarven gold one that Jonah
and I found that proved our Connection, is back in Annar in a hidden
compartment in a jewelry box. I wonder if Jonah’s found it. If he’s gone
through my apartment, if he’s thrown everything away. If he’s taken the
matching ring off his finger.

I stare at the smooth bit of skin that no longer shows the
absence of a ring. There’d been a pale line when I left, but I used makeup to
hide it until it eventually faded away. And now, now that I’m staring at that
spot and having Will call me out on everything, I can’t help the regret that
threatens to pull me under.

“You’re right.” I hate that my voice shakes. “I knew what I
was doing when I cheated. And I did it anyway.” My nails curve to dig into my
palms in an effort to stave off extra tears. “It wasn’t—we didn’t have sex, if
that’s what you’re thinking.” Which is a humiliating admission in front of a
man you consider to be a father figure and another man who’s your best friend.
And I don’t know if it was a lucky thing I didn’t have sex or not, but there
are times I wish so badly I could have had just that one experience with Jonah
to help carry me through the years.

“So you two broke up?” Will asks. He’s staring at me like
I’m a stranger, which I probably am to him, now that I’ve shown him the real
me. “And you didn’t end up with the other bloke?”

I draw both lips inward, biting down hard before I slowly
shake my head no.

“No to . . .?”

I am truly an awful, awful person. It’ll be a miracle if
either Dane can even hear my words, my voice drops so low. “We didn’t break
up.”

Silence. These two are excellent at waiting a girl out.

“I . . .” Am a coward. Selfish. “I left. Just left. No note,
not . . . nothing.”

Will’s eyes widen. “You just fucking left? No goodbye? No,
‘We’re done?’ No
nothing
?”

I wouldn’t blame them if they’re judging me now, Cameron
included.

“That’s fucked up, Zo—
Chloe
.” Will’s frustration is
tangible. “How long were you two together?”

Officially? Nearly two years. Unofficially? “I’ve known and
loved him my entire life.”

Cameron lets out a melancholy sigh. Because he is another
person who found true love at a young age, and he’d give anything to have his
wife back. Here I am, admitting I’m a total whore who cheated on her lifelong
love and then left him without a word.

Will’s long, slow whistle fills the living room. “You
cheated on this bloke that you claim you loved your entire life, and then just
. . . left. Without the decency of a goodbye. Jesus, Chloe. I don’t even know
what to say to that.”

I can’t even look at Cameron. There’s got to be more
disappointment there than I know I can handle.

And yet, I’ve dug my grave, I might as well lie down in it.
“It was with his brother,” I tell my best friend. Tell the man who has treated
me better than my own biological father. “I cheated on my fiancé with his own
twin brother. And they . . . they fought a lot. Because of me. I hated it,
couldn’t stand being the reason they weren’t close, so . . . I thought the best
thing to do was just leave.”

I think I’ve stunned them both into an even more horrified
silence. I can’t look up. I can’t.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” I ramble on. I’m so
nervous I feel like my limbs, my hair, my eyelashes—everything is just going to
drop off with the next breath. “But I made the best choice I could at the time.
Work was unbearable. They were fighting. I . . . I got sick. I didn’t know how
to handle the mess I’d made. I lost a lot of weight from the stress. Got a
bleeding ulcer that kept coming back. Had constant headaches. Couldn’t sleep.
Couldn’t eat. They fought, and stopped talking to each other, and I hated
hurting them, hated knowing I was the reason they were unhappy, and all I could
think was—was—if I weren’t there, they wouldn’t have a reason to fight. And
work was—I couldn’t deal with what I was being asked to do, so I left, and I
did it in a way that they can’t find me, or work, or anyone from my old life,
and I’ve tried to build myself a life that has more to do with what I want to
do than what other people tell me I have to do. And . . . yes. I miss him.
Them
.
I miss a lot of things, and it eats me up inside, and I break sometimes, and I
want to give up or give in, and that’s why I called Jonah. But right now, I’m
not sorry I left. I’m sorry that I hurt them, and I’m sorry if I hurt anybody else,
but I’m not going to apologize for doing what I thought was best. Because I
will do anything in my power to make sure that their lives are better. I’m
not—”

Will grabs my face between his large hands. “It’s okay.
Jesus. I’m sorry. It’s okay.
It’s okay.
” He wipes away tears I didn’t
know I was still crying with his thumbs.

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