Ten Thousand Lies (17 page)

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Authors: Kelli Jean

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Ten Thousand Lies
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Ricki

Holy shit, I was fucking pissed.

“Between the fucking two of you, you couldn’t buy the woman a proper fucking bed?” I raged at Rex and Xanthe from the back of the Mini.

“You’re joking, right?” snapped Xanthe.

“Do I fucking look like I’m fucking joking?” I yelled.

“She said no, mate,” said Rex. “She told us she wasn’t a charity case. When her back breaks from sleeping on the cot, she’ll bloody cave, and we’ll get her a decent fucking bed.”

“Jaime doesn’t like being a burden—” Xanthe tried to tell me.

“Burden?”
I shouted.

“Why are you getting so fired up?” Xanthe demanded. “You fucking treat her like a leper—”

“The fuck I do!”

I totally fucking did though. Jaime Hallowell had shown up, and I’d been avoiding her like she was the plague.

The first time I’d looked into her China blue eyes, I’d gotten so turned on that I didn’t know what to do. One look at her in the flesh, and it was as though all the blood powering my brain had pooled into my dick, and I’d forgotten how to act like a normal human being. For years, I’d planned on being the man she’d spoken to on the phone when she arrived, try to make it up to her for acting the twat, but I had gone full-on fucking spastic in her presence.

Jaime was all I could think about. Day and night, no matter what I was doing, she was always dancing through my head. The few times she’d laughed around me, it was as though this lovely white light had lit me from within. It was killing me. I’d had a shot with this amazing woman, but ever since I’d freaked out about it, I just couldn’t get my shit straight.

A week ago, we’d all been at Wurther’s, having a few pints. Jaime had warmed up, laughing and joking with the rest of us, and turned to me, tugged my beard, and wondered what sort of handsome face I had underneath. Without thinking, I’d slapped her hands off me, like a head case afraid of catching germs. She’d turned red, her big China blues looking watery, and mumbled an apology.

Jaime hadn’t touched me since. In fact, she would go out of her way to avoid any sort of contact with me. It made me sore in my chest and head. I
wanted
her to touch me, yet…I wouldn’t know what to do if she did.

“Yeah, well, we’re not the only ones who’ve noticed,” Xanthe seethed. “She was asking me earlier what your problem was, and I have no fucking clue what to tell her, Ricki. So…what’s your fucking deal? Did she do or say something to make you hate her?”

“No!” I barked, horrified everyone seemed to think so.

Ronen slid a sly gaze my way and smirked. “He doesn’t hate her, you guys.”

“Thank you!” I said a bit too forcefully.

“Actually…I think it’s the complete opposite, what he feels for our wee Jaime.”

“I knew it!”
exploded out of Xanthe. “You fucking
like
her, and you’re too much of a dipshit to know what to do!”

My jaw dropped open, and the blood hanging around in my pants too much these days surged to my face.

Rex laughed. “Seriously? This is how you act around women you fancy?”

“He wouldn’t know,” said Ronen. “He’s never fancied one before.”

“That’s not true,” I retorted.

“That’s right. I remember you telling me about a Rachel Hopkins—”

“Jenkins,” I corrected Ronen quietly.

“When you were, what? Seventeen?”

“So?”

“So, that was like a decade ago!”

Shutting my damn mouth, I stared out the window. If they knew it had been even longer since I’d had my one and only sexual experience, I’d never hear the end of it. Not even Ronen knew that. He thought I was just weird and got my rocks off when no one knew.

“So, what are you going to do about it, mate?” asked Rex.

“Do about it?”

“Well, yeah. Ask her on a date or something.”

“Maybe show her you don’t think she’s fucking contagious,” muttered Xanthe.

My eyes shot death rays at the back of her head.

“How come she didn’t want to come with us?” asked Ronen. “Did you creep her out or something? You were mouth-breathing on her, weren’t you?”

“She said she wasn’t hungry,” I replied, once more looking out the window.

“Bullshit,” grumped Xanthe.

“It’s what she told me!” I snapped, defensive.

“No, Ricki. She was fucking starving an hour ago,” she replied.

“Then, why…” I trailed off.

“She has no money,” Xanthe said flatly. “And she refuses to take it from us.”

“What the fuck?” I hissed. “Fucking turn the car around.”

“But—”

“I said, fucking turn around!” I was a goddamn billionaire. I wasn’t about to let the woman starve. Pride didn’t fill a stomach.

“You’ll just humiliate her, Ricki,” Xanthe said. “We’ll bring something home and tell her it’s leftovers.”

For the rest of the ride, I silently fumed.

Jaime

Working in a small, quaint hippie bookstore in Amsterdam had sounded awesome. A hipster-chic job that should be fun. I’d definitely catch up on some reading. Cool people would come in and want to help a New Jersey girl speak Dutch while drinking fancy coffee with me.

Wrong!
It was boring as all hell.

The first few days had been fine. Xanthe and I’d hung out while Aunt Ellen caught up on paperwork in the back—at least, that was what she’d told us. There were times where she’d lock herself in her tiny office next to the teeny kitchenette in the shop. Xanthe had told me to just roll with it, that she was no doubt doing stuff we weren’t supposed to know about.

The Locals.

Picking up a used paperback novel I was hoping to be engrossed in soon, I stood behind the counter next to Xanthe as she typed away on her laptop. The woman was writing her first novel, and so far, it was awesome. She had conjured the perfect hero and heroine to go on killing sprees of ghosts and goblins. Donovan sounded like a hot motherfucker.

Glancing at the clock, I saw we had twenty minutes to go before we closed for the day.

“What do you want to do tonight?” asked Xanthe.

“I dunno.”

Aunt Ellen came out from the back and slipped a wad of cash in front of me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Your funds won’t be in your account until tomorrow. If I hear you’re starving yourself again, young lady, I will raise unholy hell, you hear me?”

Heat enflamed my face, and I shot a glare Xanthe’s way. She paid me no attention.

“You’ll take this out of my payment, right?” I asked Ellen.

Ellen glared at me and flipped me the bird.

Crazy old bat.

“Jaime, we’re family. Family sticks together and helps each other out. If I want to give you money, you shut the hell up and take it,” snapped Ellen.

Shoving the cash into my jeans pocket, I did as I had been told.

“Hungry?” asked Xanthe as she lowered the top of the laptop.

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“I don’t know what the guys are up to, but I thought you and I could go out without them.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

“You guys get on out of here,” said Ellen. “I’ll close up.”

Xanthe and I grabbed our gear, kissed Ellen good-bye, and headed out for Indian food. I was fantasizing about curries and naan bread, considering I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

When everyone had come back from dinner last night, Ricki had handed me a to-go box with two grilled vegetable-and-cheese sandwiches and a mountain of fries, scowling viciously at me as he did so. Not needing to be subjected to his stink eye, I’d mumbled my thanks and slunk upstairs to eat one sandwich and half the fries alone in my room, saving the rest for my breakfast. Then, I’d passed out from exhaustion and woken up this morning with an aching lower back.

Xanthe and I had a seat in the restaurant and placed our order for a large green curry with chicken to share, and then she turned a shrewd look on me.

“What?” I asked.

“Aunt Ellen’s right, Jaime. We’re family. You’re not a burden, and you need to stop thinking like you are. I get your parents were fucking slackers and made you feel like you owed them for everything they gave you but not with
us
. My dad, Ellen, you, and Rex…we’re all in this together. Don’t you get that?”

Slumping into myself, I exhaled loudly.

“This was never an issue when we were younger,” she said.

“Yes, it was,” I retorted. “I just never said anything because I couldn’t stand the thought of not being with you. I owe David and Ellen so much.”

“No, you don’t. And they’d be insulted to think you feel that way. They
love
you.
I
love you. And just because you’re financially strapped doesn’t mean we love you less.”

“Okay,” I conceded. “I won’t let myself starve.”

“Ricki was furious when he figured you bailed last night because of not having money,” Xanthe casually mentioned.

That snapped me out of my reverie. “Say what?”

“Mmhmm. Fucking livid, yelling at me and Rex for not buying you a bed and dinner. Thought we were a bunch of assholes. So, thanks.”

“Bullshit!” I spluttered. “Who the fuck is he to get defensive on my behalf? He doesn’t even like me, for God’s sake. Tell him to mind his own fucking business.”

“He likes you just fine.”

“The hell he does,” I grumbled.

“Look, Ricki is just…he’s special.”

“You can fucking say that again.”

“With what he does, I think it’s hard for him to feel comfortable with putting everything out there. He just needs time, okay?”

“Whatever,” I replied.

Xanthe sighed. “Are you going to admit you have a thing for him or not?”

“Or not,” I snapped.

“Why are you so scared to tell me?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Right. Because you don’t silently fuck him in your head every time he makes an appearance.”

“Yeah, well, you know I don’t commit to guys, and he’s one of your best friends. It could get awkward.”
It’s already awkward.

“How about you actually tell me what happened between you two? You guys were mates. You can’t pretend you didn’t just spend the last however long chatting with him because you already told me.”

Clearing my throat, I felt my face go red.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, my voice hoarse. “You’re right. We were mates, and then about a year ago…we liked each other as more. I knew what he looked like, and I thought he was the hottest thing, right? You sent me his picture that time. Well, I was buzzed one night and decided to send him one of me. That night, he called me, and…we had phone sex.”

Xanthe snorted and covered her mouth.

I glared at her. “We had a lot of phone sex this past year, and then a couple of months ago, we were talking about what we were going to do when we finally met each other in person. He seemed really keen on starting something, and for the first time in my life, it felt…
right
. You know I’ve never wanted to be in a relationship, but with Ricki, it was different. I could appreciate having something with him for some reason. But, as you can see, it amounted to shit, so I’ll just continue on with what I’ve been doing.”

Having a deadbeat dad, seeing firsthand what infidelity could destroy, I didn’t need to ever experience that for myself. My mother’s heart had broken; her self-worth and confidence had been annihilated. I’d had friends who I’d hook up with when I needed to get laid. When they’d wanted more, I’d cut all ties.

“You think you’ll be happy like that forever?” Xanthe asked.

“Look who’s fucking talking! You’ve been banging Deo for the last four years, the guy is
nuts
about you, but you can’t find it in your heart to commit to him. And he’s possibly the most beautiful man on the planet.”

Xanthe rolled her eyes. “You know we can’t have a normal relationship, Jaime.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because neither of us can sacrifice for the other.”

“That, and you’re in love with a man you made up.”

Shrugging, she said, “Deo and I are too much alike. He’s dreamed of his barbershop in London for-fucking-ever, and I’ve always known I was supposed to be here with Ellen. She’s not always going to be around, and I need to take over for her when she’s not. Being in the shop, seeing what she does for victims, it’s going to help me when it’s our responsibility.”

“I know,” I said.

Ellen had refused to let us join the Locals like Xanthe’s father and Rex—putting ourselves in harm’s way, going on missions that could potentially end our lives, or put us in situations that would take the lives of others. But, in the capacity of what Ellen did for the victims, she encouraged us to learn as much as we could.

It was about getting the victims into a normal sort of life. Giving them back their self-respect, their dignity. It was the most important aspect of saving them, in my opinion. If they weren’t rehabilitated, they wouldn’t acclimate, and more than likely, they would take their own lives.

“Have you worked with any since Ulla?” I asked.

“I lived with Opie for the last two years. She still has a long way to go,” she quietly told me.

“Yeah. I’m looking forward to starting though. Ellen said there were houses we could go to and just hang out with those who were rehabilitating. A lot of them need regular blood work done and health checks. I think that’s something I could do for them, so they don’t have to constantly go into clinics and shit.”

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