Pretty Little Lies (Lie #2) (5 page)

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Dylan

Each tap of the keyboard cracked my heart wide open. I was doing what was right, but filling out an application to give my baby away was harder than I ever dreamed possible. I had
Google
search for the best adoption attorney in the town of Knoxville every moment I was left alone. Just going through the long list of lawyers brought back memories of the days I spent in court after my rape. How on earth my mind would see fit I remembered every detail of that fateful day and only a handful of memories of Ethan was beyond me. It was almost a relief, I remembered my days in court. Focusing on those memories reprieved my mind from the true task at hand . . . finding a suitable home for my little miracle.

The doorbell rang followed immediately by three knocks. I raised my head. Sarah was on a date and Deacon was at work, so I had no choice but to answer it. The doorbell rang again as I closed my laptop and reached for my cane. I was still unsteady on my feet, and when I walked, a stabbing pain shot down my right leg.

“Coming,” I hollered as I made my way over to the door.

I swung open the door and felt a rush of confusion. An older but extremely beautiful man was propped against the doorframe. I was mesmerized by his gray eyes and long feathery lashes. He smiled showcasing the soft winkles around his eyes.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said and winked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and I know I’m better looking than a ghastly ghost.”

Something about his face was familiar, but I couldn’t place where I knew him. I leaned against the door to steady myself. “Do I know you?”

“Huh,” he hummed and winkled his eyebrows together. “I’m Charlie, Ethan’s big brother.”

My heart sank to my feet. I felt like throwing up, screaming, or something. I squeezed the door, feeling like I was going to faint. “Ethan,” I whispered, stroking my belly, wondering where he was and why he sent his brother.

“Yeah. Dylan, are you okay?” he asked and gripped my arm.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not.” I motioned with my head for him to come in. “Have a seat.”

I should have been more cautious. I didn’t care. Nothing in my life was right. Maybe Charlie could shed a small sliver of light on the missing pieces.

“Ow, what happened to you?’ Charlie asked, eyeing my cane and obvious limp.

I strained to sit down less than gracefully before Charlie came over to help me. “I was in a pretty bad wreck at the end of November.”

Charlie fell back on the recliner and ran his hands through his hair. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

I nodded my head in agreement.

“Do you remember Ethan?”

I fingered the hem of my shirt. “I only have two or three memories.” I felt the tears form and squeezed my eyes shut to hold them in.

“Fuck, Dylan, I don’t know what to say. Do you want to see him?”

I looked at him blankly. I’d never been so confused and couldn’t figure out what was happening. A man who declared he was Ethan’s brother sat in my living room. He acted as if he had no idea I’d been hurt. Sarah talked to Ethan; surely, he knew. He had to know I was in the hospital. I sent him the letter stating that fact.

“Didn’t Ethan tell you?” I shook my head. “Sorry, I’m sure I haven’t been the topic of any of your conversations.”

Charlie cackled and slapped his leg. “We have had a few conversations about you. And, beautiful, I promise you he had no idea you’ve been hurt. You need to find him and talk to him.”

“He has to know; I wrote him a letter.”

“Well, sweetheart, he didn’t read it because he would be ballistic if he knew.”

I bit my lip. I had been running on fumes for weeks, and those fumes had finally run dry. The thought that Ethan would be upset I was hurt, that he might possibly want to see me was too much.

“Got a pen? Charlie asked.

I glanced at him and saw a look of concern in his eyes. Did he care? I wondered what he might think about the little bundle I was carrying. I pointed to the desk in the corner. I was too stunned and in too much pain to move.

Charlie sauntered over to the desk. He had a cocky walk. Something deep down told me Ethan did as well. It might have been something I loved about him. He took a pen out of the top drawer and wrote something down on a loose piece of paper. “If you want to see him, you’ll find him there,” he said and tapped the paper lying on the desk.

He walked back over to me and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll stay out of this, but Ethan is too hard-headed to come himself. Please don’t make the same mistake.” He lifted my chin with the back of his hand. “Take care, sweetie, and if you need anything, I left my number over there too.”

I watched him walk through the door and couldn’t find the courage to even move for the longest time. Finally, when I knew Deacon would soon be home, I stumbled over to the desk and picked up his note.

The Dungeon, 1211 Paper Mill Drive, 434-8085

What the hell was The Dungeon? Paper Mill Drive was in a semi-decent part of town. Was that were Ethan lived?

“Hey, Tom-boy,” Deacon said as she stormed in the door. “You really need to be off that leg.” She threw the mail on the hall table, headed toward the kitchen, and started knocking something around in the refrigerator.

“Have a good day?” I said over my shoulder as I made my way over to the couch.

“It was a day,” she said and popped opened a can of
Coke.
“Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine,” I answered as Deacon leaned herself back in the recliner and started munching on potato chips. “Have you ever heard of The Dungeon?”

“Can’t say I have. Sounds like some kind of nightclub.” She flashed a toothy grin at me. “Ready to go dancing already. Sorry to tell you, but no guy wants to carry a girl who can barely dance much less hump home.”

“No.” I rolled my eyes and diverted my face from her. “I just read the name on the internet. I’d never heard of it, and I thought Sarah had dragged me to every club in town.”

“Maybe it’s a new one. You do know you have been out of it for a few days.”

“Just a few,” I said and tucked Charlie’s note in my pocket. I watched her flip through the many channels on the television and collapsed into the couch cushions, deflated from the pain medicine, exhaustion, and most of all, unknown hope.

“I’m taking a bath.” I didn’t need a bath. I needed a clear mind, my smartphone, and a date with
Google.

I sank down into a steaming, hot bath, and after adjusting my hip, I picked up my cellphone off the vanity. I typed onto the
Google
search bar “The Dungeon Knoxville”. A page popped up with the words, The Dungeon written in red and a simple warning. 

Although you will not find anything obscene or pornographic on our webpage, the content is of adult nature and is intended for a mature, tolerant, and informed audience
.

A button with the words,
Explore at your own pleasure
, was placed under the warning. After typing in my birthday, I clicked on the bar and was taking to a website for a BDSM club. The “about us” section was enough to get my head spinning.

The mission of The Dungeon is to provide and maintain a self-sustainable, vision-driven, and ever-upgrading meeting facility and interaction space for those of East Tennessee and beyond with varied alternate relationship preferences and sexual orientations, but linked through the BD/DS/SM (BDSM), Fetish, and Kink lifestyles.

Our facility in central Knoxville provides a 1000 square foot classroom and social space separate from the adjoining 3000 square foot “Gallery”, all of which are clean, safe, heated, cooled, and ADA accessible.

Nobody may enter The Dungeon for a member function unless they are a member in good standing or an official guest of such a member.

I slammed the cellphone down on the vanity. No wonder I couldn’t remember Ethan. He was a sick bastard. The imagines of my rape haunted my nightmares. I wouldn’t have been a part of that lifestyle. Sarah told me that after the wreck I said Ethan had me attacked. Did he force me in that lifestyle? Was that why I left him. Did he take me to a gathering and let them use me?

I got out of the tub, dried off, and crawled into bed, void of any emotions. I needed to remember what happened between Ethan and me. After all, I was having his baby.

I lay in bed and listened to Sarah and whoever fuck in the next room over. It was not helping anything. I snuck down the hall. I still didn’t have a car and wasn’t released to drive, but Deacon would surely not kill me. I snatched her keys off the hook by the door and stumbled down to the parking garage.

I felt absolutely and totally horrendous pulling up to the one place I would never feel welcomed. The Dungeon. It was in the warehouse district of Knoxville, not necessarily a bad part of town, but not a part a young pregnant woman needed to be trotting around in either. The club was located in a rather plain brick building. The only noticeable feature was the random graffiti spray painted on the wall.

“We got this, Baby E,” I whispered down at my belly. “Always remember it’s Mommy that wasn’t enough for Daddy. Never you. And I promise to make sure all you ever know is love.”

I cringed as the loud creaking sound of the car door echoed in my head. I couldn’t complain. I was grateful I had a car to ride in. I closed my eyes. It wasn’t mine, and it was a reminder that a new car was in order, but so were a lot of things. One thing at a time was my motto at the moment. It was all on my shoulders, after all. I clutched the envelope, containing the ultrasound picture, to my growing tummy. I wondered if Ethan would notice the slight bulge. Sarah said she could tell. Deacon laughed and said she just wished her stomach was that small non-preggos. A chill tingled down my spine as I reached for the handle on the glass door leading into the building. I envisioned Ethan seeing me and running toward me. I could almost feel his lips on mine as his fingers tangled in my hair. I could only hope he would be so happy.

A rush of cool air hit me as soon as the door was flung open. I stalled, expecting an image of what I had done there to flash in my mind. Not one memory came. A man in black ushered me into a waiting area. It was light and bright. The opposite of what I had expected at a BDSM club. He motioned for me to have a seat on an oversized white leather sofa. I politely declined. Who knows what has taken place on it? The anxiety seemed to ramp up the intensity of the pounding in my chest. I started to turn and run.

“Dylan, what are you doing here?”

I froze. It was not the manly voice I wanted to hear, it was a soft voice of a lady who knew my name. I twisted on my heels. She knew who I was. So it would’ve been a matter of time before Ethan would’ve known I’d been there. I might as well face him. A stunning brunette stood up from behind a small glass desk and placed her hands on her hips. She eyed up and down my body before stroking over the flat planes of her stomach. Which only emphasized her amazing body. I had made a mistake coming there. He had turned his back on me. For what? To spend his weekends flogging tied up women.

“Ethan, I think you might want to come here,” the brunette called over her shoulder. Damn, she was beyond beautiful. Her cheekbones were high and chiseled. Long heavy lashes feathered around deep green eyes. Her long hair flowed down over her bare shoulders. Most of her was bare, all she had on was a pair of red stilettos, a black lace bra, and skimpy underwear. Hell, if I had her body, I might be tempted to walk around like that too. No, I never would’ve; I had self-respect.

“What, Amanda?” Ethan said, gracefully barging through an open steel door. My heart fell in my stomach. My first thought every morning was of the face that was gawking at me at that moment. He was even more ravishing in person. He was drenched in sweat. I wanted to lick the bead of moisture running down his abs and into his unbutton pants. At least, he had taken the time to zip them. He froze when he spotted me. The tears instantly pooled in my eyes. There was not an ounce of anything remotely akin to love in his expression. He appeared to want to tear me limb from limb.