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Authors: Sally Beauchamp

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“Delicious!” Mad Dog sighed, making Ellen giggle. “You got any more pancakes, Spider?  I’m suddenly hungry.” Mad Dog didn’t take his eyes off Ellen.

“Mad Dog, sweetie,” Ellen cooed, “do you suppose after breakfast you could take me to my car so I can get my beach bag? I thought I might go for a swim while I’m waiting for the tow truck. ”

“Nothin’ I’d like more than to feel you straddling my bike, baby.” Mad Dog leaned so close Ellen thought he was going to kiss her.

Mason shot up. “You two really ought to get a room. I thought we came back to help Spider take down the stage.”

“Take it easy, man.” Spider munched on a piece of bacon. “We’ve got plenty of time for that. We’re supposed to be relaxing. When I’m done eating, I’ll cook you up some pancakes.”

“I don’t want any fucking pancakes!” Mason ranted. “I’m going to go get started on that stage before it gets too damn hot. You two comin’ or not?”

“You heard the lady, Rambo. She needs a ride to her car,” Mad Dog said, rubbing Ellen’s thigh. “Let’s do it when I get back.”

“Forget it! I’ll do it myself.” Mason stormed over to Spider’s truck and retrieved a tool box from the back. “You two fuckers can take your sweet ole time.”

Mason glared at Spider and Mad Dog and then stomped off.

Spider looked at Mad Dog. “What the hell is the matter with him?”

“Can’t you figure anything out, old man?” Dee got up and threw her paper plate in the fire pit. “He and Desi are fighting, and I suppose seeing the two love birds over there, hamming it up, only made it worse.”

Dee Dee shot Ellen and Mad Dog a,
“you-ought-to-be-ashamed-of-yourselves look. Ellen swallowed, staring at the ground.
What did I do to feel guilty? She wanted me and Mad Dog to hit it off.

Mad Dog leaned forward. “Dee Dee you’re always sticking up for Rambo. What’s the matter? Can’t you show me a little love?”

Mad Dog grinned.

“You’re always messin’ with him, Mad Dog,” Dee Dee said, shaking her head. “Come on, Spider. Get your ass over there and help him with that stage. I’ll cook breakfast for whoever else wants it.”

Dee held out her hand for his plate.

Slowly Spider rose from the chair, towering over his wife. “You know, woman, you can be replaced.”

“Yeah, when you figure out how to blow that spider on your own.” Dee Dee fumed. She marched over to the open tailgate and began throwing things into a paper bag.

“Can’t argue with that.” Spider smiled, dumping his plate into the fire pit. He put his hands on his hips, leaned back and then straightened. “You comin’, Mad Dog?”

“No. I’m taking Ellen to her car.”

Mad Dog and Ellen stood.

“Thanks for the breakfast, Spider. Your pancakes are delicious,” Ellen said and threw her plate in the fire pit. “By the way, you do know what the black widow spider does to the male after they mate, don’t you?”

Spider shook his head.

Ellen smiled. “She eats him. Thought you’d like to know that when you’re flashing that spider of yours around.”

He smirked. “It’s a damn good way to go.”

 

***

 

The noon-day sun blazed hot in the August sky. Mason pounded on a stubborn bolt with the handle of a wrench. A few men hot-rodded their bikes around the perimeter of the field, and he could hear voices coming from the river.

Mason would be glad to get back home. The weekend had not worked out the way he had hoped. He was sore, his cheek was on fire, and he couldn’t shake the resentment he felt toward Mad Dog. It bothered him more than the fix he was in with Desi. He stopped hammering to wipe the sweat away from his brow and remembered her dancing on his lap last night. The memory conjured a feeble smile. 
Do I really want all of that to end?

Muck Eye approached. “Rambo, you got a minute? Jack wants to thank you for the invite before we head out and wants to discuss a little business deal with you.”

Suddenly excited, Mason dropped the wrench and jumped down off the trailer.  He smiled. “Take me to your leader.”

The men crossed the field over to the tent sites. A gray Cadillac sedan was parked and running. The tinted glass windows were closed tight and camping paraphernalia was piled up alongside the car. Immediately, Muck Eye set to work packing the tent equipment in the trunk. Mason heard women’s laughter coming from inside. Jack leaned on the driver’s side door, puffing on a cigarette.

“Rambo, my man.” Jack greeted him, flicked his cigarette to the ground and then shook Mason’s hand. “This rally was great. Thanks so much for inviting us. You bikers really know how to throw a party. And the entertainment was amazing! Say, I’m sorry to hear about your little spat with the girlfriend.”

“Who said anything about a little spat?” Anger roiled through Mason.

“Desi mentioned it to me this morning.”

“I thought I told you Desi wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Look, man, Desi came by and asked if I meant it when I told her she could be the model for my calendar and TV commercials. I asked her if she had talked it over with you. That’s when she mentioned you weren’t a couple anymore.”  Jack flipped his designer sun glasses down over his eyes.

Mason cocked his head to the side, looking hard at the man. Jack’s smug attitude and pressed linen shirt and trousers irked him. He wanted to grab Jack and toss him up against a tree, but first he had to find out what he had to offer. “So what kind of business deal did you want to discuss?”

“Last night when those two guys were going at it, I watched how you handled yourself. Quite impressive. I could use a man like you in case any of my customers needed some help paying their bills. You could persuade them to never be late. And, of course, there are always those who want to horn in on my lucrative trade. You’d be the person to convince them to set up shop elsewhere.” Jack lifted his glasses, his eyes narrowed. “You interested?”

Mason crossed his arms over his chest, maintaining a reserved stance. His heart raced with excitement and adrenaline flowed like water in a sudden spring thaw. “I might be,” he replied, emotionless.

“I’ll give you a call sometime this week, and you can come by the dealership. We can discuss all the details then.”  Jack’s diamond earrings glittered in the sunlight.

“Sounds good.”

Jack opened the driver side door and then turned back to Mason and smiled.  “Desi, aren’t you even going to say good-bye?”

Bewildered, Mason peered into the car. Desi sat shot gun. Their eyes met. Too stunned for words, Mason stared.

Jack nudged him out of the way and then slid behind the steering wheel.

Mason grabbed the door. “Desi, what are you doing? Don’t do this.”

Desi turned away.

“Gotta go.” Jack closed the door. Muck Eye shot Mason an apologetic look and then got in the back. The driver’s window rolled down. Jack reappeared.

“Thanks again for the invite.” Jack nodded toward Desi. “I do hope the two of you patch things up.”

Jack’s malignant smile disappeared behind the shaded window. Shock welded Mason’s feet to the ground. As the car pulled away, he slammed his fist down on the fender.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER Nine

 

 

Brilliant flecks of metallic light shimmered off the river like scales on a floating mermaid. Dragon flies hummed, skirting the water’s surface. Warm earth squished between Ellen’s toes. She set her beach bag on the grass embankment, shielded her eyes with her hand, and surveyed the river. About twenty feet in front of her, a large buffalo hump of black rock protruded from the moving water. Random tufts of long grass sprouted like shedding fur from its stone hide. Precariously, she touched her toes to the water. Cold, but bearable. She stripped down to her bathing suit and then waded out.

The current tugged at her legs; white bubbles swirled gently around her waist. The afternoon sun warmed her face and torso as the contradictory chill of the water numbed her lower extremities. The river deepened. Unable to stand, Ellen submerged herself. Distorted rays of sunlight lit the river bottom. Minnows scattered helter skelter.  Her cheeks puffed with air, hair floated weightlessly, and amniotic sound enveloped her. With a graceful breast stroke, she propelled herself to the rocky mound. Surfacing, she exhaled then stepped onto a stone shelf, pulling herself up to the flat plane of bedrock. She stood. Dripping water polished the rock to a glossy black, as the sun’s heat kissed the chill from her skin.

What a magnificent place
, she thought, turning to the wooded side of the river. Pines and hardwoods peacefully cohabited among rotting logs and scraggly brush. Speckles of purple and yellow dotted the bank. A woodpecker hammered.
JD would love this place
. She could imagine him lost in his world of make-believe, playing up there.
Settling herself, she tilted her head to the sun, closed her eyes, and luxuriated in the heat. Time passed unnoticed until laughter from further up the river disturbed the tranquility. She turned, worried some of the nasty-looking people she saw that morning had decided to venture down this way.

A loud splash startled her.  Shielding her eyes, she looked to the shore and noticed a small heap of clothing near her things. Her heart beat accelerated. She scoured the bank for the intruder but saw no one. Checking to her right and left, the river showed no sign of human interruption. She told herself the adventures of last night were making her paranoid. The clothes were probably there when she came down and she hadn’t noticed.  Remembering the women with dog-bones piercing their nipples and Spider’s little exhibition, she knew people around there had no problem with nudity.

A clamorous whoosh spun her around. Poseidon emerged, swinging his long black hair that splayed water droplets across the river’s surface. Grasping the rocky ledge, Mason pulled himself up, his powerful muscles flexing under the strain.  Shocked, Ellen jumped up. Mason stood on the rock. Thirsty for air, he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Water flattened his dark chest hair and trickled down his abdomen. Jeans slung low on his hips, stuck to his long legs. Puddles formed at his bare feet. He sighed, leaning his head back, eyes closed, mouth open. Tiny prisms of water lingering in his beard separated sunlight into minute spectrums of color.  

Gawking, Ellen swallowed. He was absolutely stunning.
And why in the hell is he here?
Desi couldn’t be far, and then Ellen would be stuck there with the two of them. She wanted to dive back into the river and swim for shore. He turned his eyes to her, halting any attempt at escape.

“Man, that water is cold! How’d you stand it, Ellen?” He smiled.

Corporal desire swelled within her. Overcome, she sat down, stretched her legs out, and faced the shoreline. “I didn’t think it was cold,” she mumbled. “As a matter of fact, I’m thinking about swimming over to the other side and doing some exploring.”

“Better not.” He warned as he sat next to her. His cold, wet arm grazed hers. “Once you step on the shore, the flies and mosquitos will attack.”


I guess I won’t then. Where’s Desi?” She ventured, looking at the shoreline.

“I don’t know. I thought maybe she was here, but apparently not. She didn’t give you too much grief last night, did she?”

“No.” Ellen looked at him. “Everyone has been really nice to me.”

She wondered why she couldn’t stop feeling so nervous around this guy.

“I owe you an apology, Mason.  You were right. I was much safer with you and Mad Dog than if I had stayed at the car.” She turned away, pulling her knees to her chest. “And I’m sorry if I caused a problem between you and Desi.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Ellen.  Last night must have been pretty wild for someone like you, and I know what Desi can be like.” He laughed. “You handled her well. When I left you with her and Dee, I wasn’t sure if you’d have all your hair when I got back.”

“So you knew Desi was going to come after me the minute you left and you still did it?”

Ellen arched her brows.

“Oh!” she fumed, looking at the sky. “That was plain dirty, Mason Hackett. You’re going to burn in hell for that!”  Ellen unsuccessfully tried to subdue a smile.

“That’s not the only thing I’m going to burn in hell for, Ellen Abrams.”

His voice, deep and sultry, made Ellen look. A seductive grin broke beneath the dark beard. She shivered. Mason’s hand brushed her thigh then moved slowly upward.  Like a needle being injected into her vein, the potency of his touch traveled down her leg, curling her toes. Thought tumbled over thought. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t stop him. He removed his hand. She took a breath. He tugged on her chin, luring her eyes to his. Blue… blue satin… blue sapphires… blue flame… all there in his deadly eyes. His fingertips roved across her lips, cold but hot. His face drew closer. She closed her eyes, ready, eager to taste his kiss…. Her heart raced, pulse drowned out sound, waiting… waiting.

She opened her eyes.

He had slipped to the flat black rock below.  Confused and embarrassed, she watched him reach for a tube tucked in his rear pocket. He twisted around, looking up at her.

“I came out here to take a bath. I better stay here till I’m clean.”

He faced forward. From her perch, she watched him lather the top of his shoulders and the back of his neck. She swallowed, clasping her legs together. She would give her soul to lather up his chest and parts down below.

He sat down on the rock and tried to squeeze the soap on his hair, but the water kept moving him. Ellen slid down. Standing knee deep in water, she held out her hand. “Give me the soap. Hold on to the rock, and I’ll wash your hair.”

“I have a better idea. Sit on my lap. You know, to do the job properly.” His mischievous grin suggested an ulterior motive.

Ellen bit her bottom lip. This was it. Her one and only chance to touch this man.  All she hoped for was that Desi wouldn’t show up and kill them both.

“All right.”

She giggled as she took the tube of soap and straddled his thighs. Cold water swirled around them. She avoided his eyes as she squirted shampoo in his hair and then tossed the tube up on the rocky ledge above them.

Her fingers glided through his dark mane, combing his temples, working the gel into frothy suds. He leaned his head back as she stroked the top of his scalp and then ran her fingertips up the back of his neck and head. He lowered his chin to his chest, and she knew her breasts were mere inches from his scrutinizing eyes. The hard heat of Mason’s body made her skin sizzle. Hands trembling, she continued her massage until he looked up. She breathed heavily. Feeling dizzy, she dropped her soapy fingers into the cold water. “Better rinse, before it gets in your eyes.”

Ellen knew she should stand, but she doubted her legs would keep her upright. His hands gripped her waist, and he lifted her as he stood. She hung on to the tops of his shoulders. He hoisted Ellen to her previous perch and then dived into the river. She watched him glide beneath the water, a trail of soap suds pursuing him. His head emerged and then he swam back to her.

Climbing up on the rock, he sprawled out on his back. “I think this rock is more comfortable than the lawn chair I slept in last night.”

She sat down, the sun’s heat warming her skin. “I thought you and Desi had a tent together.”

Ellen looked down at her legs dangling over the rock. 

“We do. Let’s just say it was way too cold in there for me last night.”

Ellen sighed. “I’m so sorry, Mason. Maybe I should go in case she comes down here and sees you with me.”

“No.” He took her hand. “Stay here. It’s the first time we’ve been alone together since I found you.”

A flash of white teeth appeared beneath his beard. He closed his eyes. Ellen combed her fingers through her wet hair, watching him.

“Ever read the
Leatherstocking Tales
?” Mason asked. “They were my favorite books as a kid. Still are. Those and Louis L’Amour’s Sackett Series. Being out here makes me think of those stories.”

Ellen smiled. “I only read
The Last of the Mohicans
because I had to as an assignment in junior high school. I hated it. However, I did like the movie with Daniel Day Lewis.”

Mason lifted his head. “What kind of English teacher likes the movie better than the book?”

“The kind that likes hot guys with long hair.” Ellen arched her brow.

Mason laughed, stretching his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

“Is that why you like being a biker?” Ellen asked, tracing a small fault line in the rock with her fingertip. “Does it make you feel like those men in the stories? Wild, adventurous, and free?

“Maybe. Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to have lived back then? Totally self-sufficient and constantly aware of your surroundings. Having to distinguish every sound of nature in order to survive.”

Ellen shook her head. “I wouldn’t like it. Too many bugs and the constant worry of survival from one season to the next would terrify me.”

He opened his eyes. “That’s what would make life so great. It would all come down to keeping you and your family alive. No extraneous stuff to get in the way of what’s really important.”

Ellen looked at him with both amazement and shame for assuming he was incapable of such deep thought and doubting that he actually read classic literature. She laid back and turned on her belly, clasping her hands under her cheek, and let the sun warm her backside. The gentle purr of the river could easily lull her to sleep. They laid quietly for some time until Mason sat up.

He pulled a long brittle blade of grass from the hump of the rock. He slid it between his fingers, like a tailor does to thread.  His long black hair blew gently in the breeze. Specs of water still clung to his shoulders. He looked at her, squinting in the brightness.

“I need to ask you something, Ellen.” He sighed and then chuckled softly. “Damn! This is harder than I thought.”

Ellen’s heart thundered in her ears. What could he possibly be afraid to ask her? Was it something illegal? She suddenly needed a drink of water. The tightness in her throat was unbearable. She sat up, facing him.

Mason crossed his legs Indian style and continued to play with the blade of grass. “Mad Dog is a decent guy. He’s been through hell and back, and I have a great respect for the man. I consider him a close friend, a brother.”

He paused.

“I want you to know that.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want to get in the way of his happiness, but I’ve got to know something.”

What is he fishing for?
Ellen wondered.
And what do I have to do with his friendship with Mad Dog?
“What do you want to know?”

Mason took a deep breath. “Last night… did the two of you… you know?” Mason’s eyes begged the question.

“What business is that of yours?” Ellen asked, her ire rising.

“Because I need to know if you feel different around me.”

“Different?”

“Yeah.” He exhaled. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

He broke the blade of straw in two and then tossed it into the river.

Ellen took a deep breath. She hadn’t imagined it. Mason felt that strange energy, too, but what did it matter? Nothing could come of it. He had to know she couldn’t and wouldn’t give him the answer he sought. How could she? He was with Desi. And for all he knew, she and Mad Dog had become lovers. If she told him the truth, would he betray his girlfriend and best friend? What kind of a man would do that? Certainly not one she would want to be involved with. Ellen swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean, Mason. I feel grateful to you.”

He sighed, looking disgusted. “You feel it. I know you do. You wanted to kiss me. Your hands were trembling washing my hair.”

Ellen stood, irritated by his pursuit of the subject. “The cold water made my hands tremble, not you.”

He shook his head. “You’re lying.”

Ellen folded her arms across her chest.

“You certainly think a lot of yourself, Mason Hackett, but here’s the truth. You’ve been very kind to me and I appreciate that, but you and I… we’re not from the same place.”

She pointed her thumb at her chest. “I’m a principal of a high school and a mother.”

BOOK: The Word of a Liar
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