Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) (17 page)

He couldn’t have known that she was on the other side of
that door, doing the very same thing, near tears.

“Aliah.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to offend
you.”  His voice sounds believable, but she doesn’t buy it.

“I find that awfully hard to believe.  Get out of my
house.”

He presses his eyes shut.  “Please forgive me.”

“I said!” she shouts, clearly growing more impatient with
him, as the door swings open and he nearly falls backward from being startled
by her vagrant attack.  “Get.  Out.  Of.  My. 
House!”  She pokes him with each word, and she truly means it.

“But last night…”

“Forget it ever happened.  Goodbye, Harley.  It’s
been fun.”  She shoves him, until he’s standing at the top of her
stairs.  “Now get the fuck out.”

He doesn’t say another word.  He’s fucked up and he
knows it.  What’s new?  He’ll have to suffer from his own
stupidity. 
But last night…
  She’d said it right.  Forget
about it.

She follows him out to the garage and clicks the garage door
opener to help him get on his way faster.  He pulls on his helmet and
delivers her a pointed glare, to show her that this isn’t over.  He revs
his engine and pulls away.  The garage door comes down so fast that he
just barely makes it out in time, having to crouch to avoid being knocked from
his bike.

Son of a bitch.

Aliah lifts her phone with a trembling hand. 
“Abby.  Please come.  I need you.”

She hangs up the phone before Abby can ask any
questions.  She can’t cry.  The emotions won’t come, even as she
scrubs her soiled office, begging for them to.  She wants to scream. 
She wants to cry.  She just hopes by the time Abby comes over she’ll have
it together.

Wishful thinking.

Within thirty minutes, Abby’s knocking on her door with a
baby in tote.  Nothing has changed.  Her head is still
spinning.  She still doesn’t know what to feel.  She must be out of
her mind.

Aliah opens her door to Abby and they stare at each other in
silence.  The only sound that breaks her from this nightmare is that
coming from the lips of a happy little girl reaching for her mouth.

Baby Maya’s little fingers hook onto Aliah’s bottom
lip.  Aliah responds by nibbling at the adorable little hand, saving
herself from sharing her condition in other, less productive, ways.

Concern is written all over Abby’s face.  “I got your
message.  I came as soon as I could.”

Aliah opens the door wider and lets the two of them come
in.  But she still can’t find any words.  Abby will figure her out
for sure.  This is kind of her thing.

“What is it, Aliah?  Is everything okay?”  Abby
slowly eases her pregnant butt onto the leather recliner and looks up at her
expectantly.  “Well?”

“It’s happening again.”  Tears start forming in Aliah’s
eyes, but they won’t fall with another person in the room.  That’s her own
rule.  There will be no waterworks here.  She isn’t the emotional
girl who needs her friend’s shoulder to cry on.  But she’s having
difficulty keeping it together this time.

Aliah turns to run off, but a little girl latches onto her
leg and giggles.

“Ally,” Maya mumbles, in the sweetest little voice.

Aliah starts to laugh, scaring away the tears.  “Come
here.”  She scoops Maya into her arms and gives her a great big hug. 
“Hey, little one.  I’d bet a hug from you is just what I need.  What
do you think?”

Maya giggles again, loving the attention.

Aliah takes the seat across from Abby and swallows a deep
breath.  “I’m seeing someone.  Well… I was.  Now… I don’t
know.  It’s complicated.”

“Okay,” Abby starts, then smiles.  “Let’s start with
his name.”

“Harley.”

“Ooh.  Sounds sexy.  But I don’t know any
Harleys.  Is he not from around here?”

Aliah chews on her bottom lip.  “To be right honest
with you, I don’t know much about him.”

“How long have you been
seeing
this Harley?  You
didn’t say anything about a new man last week.”

“Let’s just say you’re right when you say new.  We only
just met last Thursday.  But our chemistry…”  Aliah looks lost in her
dreams.

“I get it.  So what went wrong?”

Aliah throws a sideways glance at Abby.  “Where do I
start?”

Abby smiles again, and it eases her worry just a bit. 
“Why don’t you start at the beginning and we’ll go from there?”

So she does.  And wouldn’t you know it, Abby convinces
her to give Harley another chance.  How she does it is anyone’s guess, but
the second Abby and Maya are out the door, Aliah finds herself at her desk,
feverishly searching her phone for his home address.  She is sure it must
be plastered online somewhere, if he is who Spencer says he is.

After doing a little digging, Aliah makes a stop at Harley’s
office.  Jillian, his assistant, advises her that Harley’s already gone
home for the day and that she can’t give her his home address.  But when
Jillian excuses herself to answer the bell at the back door, Aliah helps herself
to the woman’s contacts.  That’s what she gets for not password protecting
her cell phone.

Aliah photographs his information with her cell phone and
shouts out to Jillian.  “Thanks anyways.”

She wants to pay him a visit but loses her nerve.  She
has stolen his information after all.  But by noon the next day, she has a
plan in place.  Abigail agrees that making him wait another day won’t kill
him.  Aliah wants to make him sweat.  At least she sure hopes he’s
sweating.  If he isn’t already, then this visit will certainly get the job
done.

Aliah makes the trip across town and double checks the
address.  Now she’s the one who’s stunned.  If this is the right
place, then Harley Gates is living pretty damn high on the hog.  There’s a
mint black Camaro in the driveway, with the windows tinted to black. 
Aliah’s willing to bet on her life that it’s his wife’s ride.

The house is practically a mansion.  All brick and
grand, with a country style porch and three car garage.  If the stamped
concrete driveway doesn’t give away his family’s wealth, then the rod iron
fence, bound by brick pedestals every ten feet, certainly does.  The front
lawn is so perfectly manicured that she wishes she had a dog just so it could
take a shit on it.

Aliah casually approaches the house, steps onto the massive
front porch, and knocks on the front door, eyeing up the two-seater swing.

Why would an unmarried man have one of those?

She fends off her pouty lip, but just barely, replacing it
with an angry snarl.

Harley opens the door to her.  He’s shocked to find her
on the other side.  In fact, he’s completely and utterly surprised. 
“Aliah.”  He glances over his shoulder, like there’s someone in there that
she’s not supposed to see.

Like his wife, maybe.

Aliah barges inside, ready to be over with the lies. 
She sees a beautiful young girl there.  It’s even worse than she
thought.  Not only is he married, but to a girl who looks ten years her
junior.  Aliah starts to put the pieces together herself.

“Do you even have a sister?  Or was that just a cover
for your sugar baby?” she snaps, glaring at the girl.

“Dad?” the girl says, looking incredibly confused by Aliah’s
intrusion.

Aliah makes a grab for the end table to stop herself from
crumbling to the pristine marble floor.  “Back that up a second. 
What did you just call him?”

Harley throws his hand down from his forehead and
confesses.  “She’s my daughter.”

The poor girl looks so uncomfortable, and that’s because
Aliah is so indelicate.  She’s convinced herself that Harley is a cheating
bastard, when in reality he’s just a father.  Aliah instantly feels like a
cruel toad, but if that is the case, then Harley must be the
lowly
toadstool.  She still wants to walk all over him, with her tallest heels
on, and is sure his baby momma is about to make her appearance any minute.

Aliah glances at his daughter.  She’s clearly not used
to seeing her father around other women.  She watches Aliah with eyes of a
predator.  Aliah turns her eyes back to Harley.

“You have some explaining to do.”  Her first impression
of Harley’s daughter is that she is an innocent, so Aliah’s completely shocked
when the girl gets right up in her dad’s face, interrupting their private
conversation.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, dad?  Or are you not
planning on keeping this one around long enough to bother?”

This seems to anger Harley.  “Your mother did not raise
you to have a mouth like that.  Apologize to Aliah.  Right now.”

The jab about her mother seems to hurt her, but it doesn’t
permanently remove the sass from her voice.  “I’m sorry,” she says, but
it’s about as believable as the idea of a witch bursting into the house and
flying around on a broomstick.

“Hannah,” he warns.

“I’m sorry,” she says, magically making the sarcasm leave
her voice.  “My dad doesn’t bring prostitutes home every day.  You’re
his first.”

Aliah has to laugh at that.  “A prostitute? 
That’s what you think I am?  Trust me, honey, I’m no prostitute.  If
you ask me, marriage is prostitution.  I don’t see your dad buying me any
jewellery and I certainly haven’t seen any money out of this relationship.”

“Oh, so you’re a gold digger.  Big surprise there,”
Hannah mumbles.

Aliah’s mouth drops open.  “Oh, hell no.  No
amount of money can buy this, sweetheart.  You can’t just give them all
the goods up front.  You have to make them work for it.”

She tries to act like their relationship has been based on
something more than desire, which is the exact opposite of the truth.

“Hmm, good talk,” Hannah mocks, then shares a roll of her
eyes.

And just for a second, Aliah sees a glimmer of herself when
she was a teen.  She smiles over at Harley.  He has never looked more
uncomfortable than he does this minute.

“I’m Hannah, by the way.  Not that you care.”

Aliah turns back to the girl, stunned by the offering, and
smiles.  “Aliah.”  She reaches her hand out, but Hannah steps
backward and scowls at her like her hand might have cooties.

Harley sighs out of frustration.  “Hannah, could you
please give us a few minutes?”  Harley flashes a glance at the girl, who
bears a striking resemblance to him.  “Please?”

Hannah leaves the room, but stares back at Aliah again, this
time flashing a smile.  But not just any smile.  A devious smile,
that looks so painstakingly similar to Harley’s that it stabs at Aliah’s heart
and makes her wince once she’s relieved of the teenager’s glare.

Hannah stomps off and heads for the front door.

“Where do you think you’re going, Missy?”  Harley’s
tone doesn’t manage to scare her in the slightest.

“Anywhere to get away from you.”  After snapping at
him, she slams the door shut.

Aliah snickers.  “She listens well.”

Harley flashes her his angriest glare.  “She reminds me
of someone else I know.”

“Don’t look at me.”

“Oh, I am looking at you.”

After an awkward silence, Harley reaches for Aliah’s
hand.  “Is that why you really came here?  For an explanation?”

She refuses to allow him the pleasure of her touch, after
he’s just drilled a hole through her heart.  He’s had his chance. 
Now it’s her turn.  She throws his shirt at him and it swats him right in
the face.

“
Actually
, I came to return your stinking shirt… and
to hear your apology.  Maybe I should have burned it instead.”

“You’re still mad,” he mumbles, more to himself than to her.

“If you would have just told me you had a daughter, I
wouldn’t have been faced with murderous thoughts when I walked in that
door.  And maybe, just maybe, things would have gone down at little
differently.”

“I doubt it.”  Hannah’s outburst has clearly made
Harley irritable.  “She’s been getting more and more sassy these past few
weeks.  Tonight, it’s hit an all-time high.  I thought it was because
I’ve been spending less time at home.  Because of you.”

“Blame it on me.  She’s clearly having boy
troubles.  But leave it up to a dad to get it all wrong.”

Harley waves a hand at her, but the words don’t make it out
at first.  “No.  No.  No.  No boy troubles here.”

Leaving their own argument alone for a second, Aliah delves
into another doozy.  “Face the facts, Harley.  You’re daughter’s
getting to that age.  She’s a beautiful girl.  How old is she
now?  She doesn’t look a year over twenty.”

He grabs at his heart in a dramatic display of pride. 
“I may be old, but I’m not that old.  She’ll be celebrating her eighteenth
birthday in a couple of months.”

“You’re in trouble.”

He’s glaring at her, just waiting for her to take another
jab at him.  “Why am I in trouble?”

“I can see that she’s already having boy troubles.  You
can only hope that it’s not too late.  The ones without a good mother
figure in their life are usually the worst ones.”