White Lies (A Twisted Fate Series) (Volume 1) (12 page)

I
tossed and turned all night, thinking about the men who might possibly be after me, Tack, a potential pregnancy, and Alex.

My life was officially a monumental fuckup.

Again I lifted my fingers to my lips. He was familiarly comforting, and I wasn’t able to place from where.

His voice.

His touch.

The way he made me feel.

Tack consumed most of my thoughts. And I loved his accent. How long had he lived in the states?

His kiss.

Since that first night in the closet at the bar, my body came alive thinking about Tack, but I refused to admit it. My dreams focused on what his kisses would be like.

Now I knew his lips were strong and commanding and set me on fire.

It had been since the night before Alex died I felt alive like that. Truly alive… not manipulated alive. Alex had ruined so much with his lying, cheating, bastard ways. But nonetheless, it hurt to be betrayed as I’d been.

He knew a secret I’d had with my dad. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I was going to give Tack a chance to prove he deserved my trust. I hoped to hell he wasn’t playing me. It was probably stupid for me to give him as much trust as I had.

I waited for the warning bells to go off in my head, but they were oddly silent. It was truly an enigma.

I glanced over at the phone on the dresser. Now I had a direct line to Tack. Excitement raced through me. I closed my eyes for a second.
Calm down, Willow.
I stared at it, wondering if I should grab it. It was hard not doing the logical thing.

The phone vibrated, and I made my choice. Throwing back the covers, I ambled over and looked at the text message I’d received.

Tack: Good morning. Please let me know when you plan to leave there.

Me: Good morning. I will.

His response was almost immediate.

Tack: I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night.

How was I supposed to respond to that? Did Tack regret thinking about me? Did he wish we’d gone further? I tapped the dresser as I thought about it. Hell, I hated lying. Honesty was best.

Me: Same here.

Tack: You feel it, don’t you?

Me: Yes.

Tack: You have no idea how happy that makes me.

Say what?
That threw me for a loop. Things were progressing at the speed of a freight train, and I needed to slow things down for my sanity.

Me: This is all going too fast, Tack. Just because I’ve decided to semi-trust you doesn’t mean anything else is going to happen.

Tack: I know.

He knew? What the hell kind of response was that? I ran my hand over my face and mumbled, “Men. They say women are complicated, but men… they’re just… ugh.”

The faint smell of bacon had me ravenous. Carson was up cooking. I deposited the phone in my purse, abandoning Tack’s cryptic texts. I needed food. Coffee was also in order after the confusing text exchange this morning. I was stepping from one minefield into another.

Since I wasn’t ready to tell Carson about Tack, I wasn’t able to get his manly advice. Through the years, I’d helped him plan romantic evenings with girlfriends and he’d deciphered what guys said. It was a win-win situation having a guy as a best friend. However, Carson and I disagreed on which was the more complicated gender.

At the cream marbled counter top, Carson stood in his low-slung pajama bottoms and loose fitting T-shirt. Over the years, he had most definitely filled out. His hair was a mess and tucked behind his ears. Seeing me, he grinned.

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

I poured a cup of coffee. Not telling him about Tack felt dishonest, but I wasn’t ready to complicate things. Carson raised an eyebrow, and I remembered he asked me a question. “Oh, sorry. I tossed and turned all night. Good morning.”

I wasn’t a morning person.

He pulled the remaining bacon from the pan and the last pancakes from the griddle. “Why?”

I took a sip of coffee before answering. “I was thinking about all that’s happened.”

“Understandably so. You’ve had a shit couple of weeks, Willow.”

I decided I was ready to share one of the thoughts occupying my mind. “I might be pregnant.”

His shocked expression confirmed what I was feeling on the inside. He knew Alex and I hadn’t shared a bedroom in a long time. Shock then morphed to concern. “I thought Alex didn’t want kids?” My eyes cast downward. “Shit, I’m sorry, Willow. I just… this just caught me off guard. How are you holding up?”

I let out a deep sigh. “It’s all coming at me fast. I’m not sure.”

There was more to that statement than Carson knew.

“You know I’ll support you whatever you decide to do.”

“Decide?”

“Keeping the baby or not.”

I set my cup down. Irritation spread through me. I flexed my fingers a few times. I took all the pent-up anger I’d been holding inside and unleashed it on Carson. “You’re right. Alex didn’t want kids. Or at least kids with me. I went off birth control a while ago because of the side effects I was experiencing. Hell… Alex and I hadn’t slept together since we got married—at least not until the night before he died. I don’t know why I wasn’t thinking, but we didn’t use protection.” I stood taller. “There won’t be an abortion. If I’m pregnant, which is a slim chance, this baby will be part me, too.”

His arms wrapped around me in a friendly hug. I shook I was so mad. “I know you’re angry. I know you’re hurting. I think you misunderstood what I meant. It’s your choice. But whatever you choose, I will support you.”

My muscles were strung tight, and I worked on relaxing them. “I know. I’m sorry.”

In my bedroom at home, I flopped down on my bed. The bedding had been stripped and replaced with a pale yellow duvet and matching curtains. It went with the light blue room for now until I found something better I liked. While I was gone, I’d ordered a new mattress, too. It felt comfortable.

The thought of sleeping on the mattress I’d shared with Alex disgusted me, even though he’d been in here only a handful of times to sleep.

Carson went to the Whitmore Hotel headquarters after dropping me off. I needed some distance. He knew it after I erupted at him in the kitchen at the beach house. They say you hurt the ones you love the most. I owed Carson an apology when I saw him again.

Distance normally helped put things into perspective.

I sighed. Once I had the courage to take the pregnancy test, I would have a better idea what my next steps were. It was stupid, but I needed time to mentally prepare for the answer… either way. If I missed my period by two days, I would take the test.

One day at a time.

Ring
.

My phone rung inside my purse. I rummaged through it to find my phone.

Ring
.

Finding it, I gazed at the blank screen.

Ring
.

Oh, the burner phone.
I dug deeper and gripped it after pressing Talk. “Hello?”

“Is everything okay?” He sounded worried.

It was Tack. “Yes. Why?” I remembered he asked me to tell him when I was leaving. “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you I left. Something happened and I forgot.”

“What happened?” Was it wrong that the genuine concern I heard made me relax a bit more?

I took a deep breath and let it out, needing to share it with someone. “I overreacted when Carson brought up—in a roundabout way—that it was my choice to keep the baby or not. If I was pregnant. He tried to tell me he would support me, regardless.”

Silence was all that met me on the other end of the line. “Tack?”

“What did you decide?”

I analyzed his words quickly. No judgement or indication as to how he felt about the subject. I was glad I hadn’t made a mistake in telling him. “If I’m pregnant, then it’s a miracle I was meant to have.”

No response.

“Tack?”

He coughed. “Sorry. I thought you were going to say something else. Life is a precious thing, Willow. If you are, you’ll make a great mom.”

Being a mom was something I knew nothing about. Time would tell if I was. Softly, I said, “Thanks, Tack.” I needed a subject change. “Have you found anything else out?”

“Not yet, but I will. Do you mind telling me a little more about Alex’s and your relationship? Maybe that will help fill in some gaps or give me a lead I haven’t thought of yet. So far, it’s been hard to get information on a rather hated man.”

Walking around the room in aimless circles, I thought about how to begin. Scenes from our life together passed by. “I met Alex at the end of college. It was love at first sight for me when he crossed the street in a small town I was visiting with friends. Something changed within me when our eyes connected. We were inseparable during his leave from the military. I loved him with my entire being.”

A lump formed in my throat, and I worked to swallow past it. “He left for deployment in the Middle East. We stayed in contact through an occasional e-mail, which wasn’t often due to his deployment. But I didn’t care. I would have waited forever for him. One day I found him on my doorstep—emotionally darker, broodier, but he was home. That’s all that mattered.”

I took a deep breath. “I found out later he’d left the military. An incident occurred where his comrades died because of a poor choice Alex made. He said his head had been focused on me and not the mission. I felt guilty.”

A faint swearing came over the line. “What a motherfucker.”

No doubt Alex was indeed a motherfucker. “Anyway, we married quickly after he returned. He signed a prenup without question, which is odd considering he wanted my inheritance. Shortly after, we got the PTSD diagnosis from some quack of a doctor. He refused to see anyone else. We fought a lot about the trust my dad had set up. Nonno has the authority to hold it until I’m thirty or release it when he thinks I’m ready. If Nonno passes before I’m thirty, then it automatically goes on lockdown until I’m thirty. Alex was furious Nonno wouldn’t turn it over. Now I know why he pushed me so hard on the issue.”

It hurt being used. More than I ever imagined. Alex was calculating. He probably never left for overseas. Hell, he probably never actually joined the military. That thought sobered me, and I had to ask. “Tack?”

“Yes, Willow?”

“Was Alex in the military? I need to know. Please tell me—even if you don’t think you can, for whatever reason.”

Without hesitation, he responded, “No, he wasn’t.”

My lip quivered.

“Willow, if I could make the bastard pay, I would.” His words rang true as they were spoken with such conviction. “I know this hurts, but you are strong enough to beat this. Alex isn’t going to win. We’re going to figure this out. I promise you will be rid of Alex and able to live your life. Just give me a little time to figure it out.”

Tack was understanding and sincere. “I don’t know what I did to deserve your help, but thank you, Tack.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself. Call me if you ever need to talk. I won’t ever be without my phone.”

Goose bumps covered my flesh. “Tack?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

“I will, sweetheart.”

As the phone call disconnected, I touched my lips, remembering his bruising kiss.

“W
illow, are you in here?”

Sitting up on the bed, I answered, “Yes, Mildred. Come on in.”

Since hanging up with Tack, I’d lain back and thought about everything we said. Why was he so concerned for me? What made him want to keep me safe? Questions, questions, and more questions. And he knew me. Where? Why was he familiar, yet I was not able to place him?

“Willow?”

Without me realizing it, Mildred had walked in and set something on the table near the fireplace. She looked at me, waiting for a response.

“What did you say? Sorry.”

“Were you thinking about someone? By the grin on your face, it looks like it was a good memory.”