Black Lies (33 page)

“Yeah.”

He holds out his arms. “Come here. I need to smell you. Touch you.”

Such a basic request. I walk forward, breaking our plan already, but I need him. Miss him. I sit sideways on his lap and lean into his chest as he inhales against my neck, his chest rising as he sniffs me, his mouth grazing my neck, his teeth scraping and then gently biting the skin right below my ear. I lean further, feel every single bit of his hands as he runs them down and along the lines of my body, his mouth letting go of my name as he kisses a line from my ear to my collarbone. “Don’t do it,” he whispers. “I know what you’re going to say and you can’t say it.”

“I have to,” I breathe, his hand running over the top of my bare thigh and sliding down, in between my legs, his fingers pushing roughly against any attempt of mine to keep them together. I think of the man on the other side of the glass. Of the video filming this instance for Brant’s eyes later. Of the script that I am supposed to stick to. The one in which I tell this beautiful man that I never loved him. That I only dated him to keep tabs on Brant. That I want him to leave so that I can be with Brant.
Lies
. Black, dirty lies. I feel the push of his fingers as he slides his hand higher up my thigh, underneath the skirt that is doing nothing but helping his cause. I picked out this skirt. Pulled it on this morning when I could have worn a hundred more restrictive outfits. Did I know? Did I pick it intentionally? Am I really that cruel? To myself? To Brant? I fear asking the question when part of me already knows the answer.

“You don’t have to,” he says, his hand traveling higher as his other hand pries my legs apart, his mouth hot against my neck, stealing kisses in between his words. Kisses that claw at my skin and leave marks that won’t wash off.

“I do, Lee.” I fully abandon the script the moment my legs lose the battle and part further, the fingers of his hand at the silk of my panties, rubbing hot lines over my barely covered sex, teasing me through the fabric, his mouth moaning my name against my neck. “I can’t keep dragging Brant through this. The only way it will work is if you leave.”

He tugs my panties aside and pushes two fingers inside, the sudden invasion causing me to gasp, his mouth taking advantage of the opening and closing hard on my lips. He kisses me as he pushes and curves his fingers. Finger-fucks me there on the couch, my legs falling fully open as we create an image that I flush over. But I can’t stop. Not when I have needed this every night I have lain next to Brant. Felt the cold distance as he tried to sort his way through this. I open up my legs and let his fingers slide inside, feel the level of my need. Take me to the edge that I want to fall over.

“I don’t give a damn about that man,” he growls, lifting off my mouth and bucking underneath me, dumping me off his lap and catching me with his hands before I hit the floor, his rough pull of me more out of need than chivalry. “Bend over,” he orders, yanking at the zipper of his jeans. “Lucky, I will never leave you. I will never let you fuck him without my name on the edge of your lips.” He pushes hard on my back, shoving me over, his other hand jerking at my skirt. “Tell me you still love me.” My back arches without control on his first thrust, a full-fledge push of hard, angry man that shoves through any remaining control on its way in. I gasp, clawing at the back of the couch as he withdraws and then shoves back in. I see stars when he pushes in and feel the delicious want when he withdraws. I cry when he stops, when he pauses with only his head inside, the gentle push so different, the stop of him so jarring. “Please,” I beg, reaching for him, my moment of need never as strong as it is in this one moment.

“Tell me you still love me.”

I fight it, close my eyes so tight the tears fall, my feet straining on their tiptoes as he rocks a tiny bit inside and breaks every last dam around my heart. “I love you,” I whisper, and earn an inch or two of push.

“Tell me you need me.”

“I need you,” I weep. “Please.”

He sweeps a hand down my back and grabs the meat of my ass, squeezing the material of my skirt as he pushes fully in and then drags out.

Over.

And Over.

Over.

And over. He fucks me as if I am dirty and his slut and his to do whatever he wishes with. He fucks me as if he can give an order and I will drop to my knees to worship him. He fucks me as if his cock is my lifeblood and every stroke of it ties me to his will. I cry his name and close my eyes to the tears as he fucks me because all of it is true.

“I will never leave you, Lucky,” he whispers as he leans forward and wraps a hand around my chest. Pulls my hair until my head is arched back and his mouth covers mine. Rips a kiss from my lips and swallows a bit of my soul in the process. “I will never leave you,” he promises as he buries himself in me and comes.

Brant

I can’t look at her. I can’t look at her without picturing her bent over that couch. The look on her face when he thrust. When she cried. When she told him she loved him.

I can’t accurately express how it feels. To watch my body, my face, fuck my fiancée. Before Dr. Terra began recording our sessions, there was a part of me that hadn’t believed. That thought that maybe
she
was crazy. That she and Jillian were both fucked in the head and I was the only sane one. That somehow my parents had drank the same Kool-Aid. It was an impossible probability, yet my brain held on to it like a lifeline. But then I saw the first hypnosis session and watched myself act in a way I would never act. Smile in a way that doesn’t work. Speak in words I’ve never used. Fuck my woman in a way that I never have.

I don’t know what bothers me more. The image of her emotional pain, or the fact that she enjoyed it? I know what arousal looks like on her skin. I know the struggle she had, the fight against an orgasm. I’d like to think I’ve done that to her before. Made her crave my body in that way. Made her lose all control and sanity with simple thrusts of my cock. I’d like to think I’m not lying to myself, my jealousy justifying away a part of me that she may require.

Now, we drive back home. To the house that we are supposed to have children in. To the house that suddenly feels empty. We are disconnected. I need to find myself so that I can find her again and we can be whole. I need to heal us but I’m too busy healing myself. That man fucking her? He was as close as I’ve been to her in weeks and I hate him even more for it.

I can’t look at her. I can’t look at her and see disappointment in her eyes. See her wish that I was Lee.

I look at the road and make the engine roar loud enough to drown out my thoughts.

I have to do it. Have to stop screwing around and do what needs to be done. Brant’s hypnosis is not bringing any other personalities out to play. Lee is it, the only soul between me and Brant and normality. I need to break up with Lee. Ignore him for the next five or ten sessions, long enough for him to give up. Give up and sulk into a corner of Brant’s mind where he may never resurface from again. Dr. Terra says a DID mind creates alternative personalities to protect the primary, or to act out in a way that the primary won’t allow. If the primary can fill that void by himself, the alternative personality may disappear altogether.
May
. The short word that carries so much weight. Other possibilities… Dr. Terra won’t discuss the other possibilities. He says our awareness of those possibilities increases the likelihood of Brant’s mind exploring those paths, playing with the delicate threads for no good reason other than to drive us both bonkers.

So today, I am trying again. To end it in a way that leaves no doubt in Lee’s mind. Not like last time, when my pathetic attempt ended with his cock buried inside of me, my head yanked back by his grip, all in full view of the cameras. I am embarrassed by that moment, by the weakness shown to the doctor and to Brant. But Lord help me, I cannot look in that man’s face, the same face as my future husband… and pretend I don’t love him. Cannot see anguish—whether it be his eyes or Lee’s—and pretend that I don’t care. Cannot have the touch of him against my skin and be unaffected. Especially Lee’s touch.

I will try my best. And I know, even settling into the chair, with Brant giving me a tight smile, that Lee will see right through me.

I take a deep breath, watch Brant as he lies down on the couch, and begins the hypnosis script.

When he comes out this time, it is different. The fight is dimmed in his eyes. He doesn’t immediately reach for me, doesn’t bound to his feet. He seems, suddenly, an old man in Brant’s body.

I don’t move from my spot in the chair. I sit there and feel like I am watching him die. When he speaks, his words are weak.

“I’m not smart. Not compared to you and Brant.”

I feel tears well and don’t know why—don’t know where they come from—except that my tear ducts know more about this situation than I do.

“But, I am assuming that you have a plan. You and him. A plan to remove me.”

I look down. Break the contact that stretched between us. Feel the drip of a tear as my body betrays me.

“What is it? The plan?” He sighs as if the weight of the question is heavy.

“You already know I mean to break up with you.” My voice wobbles when it speaks and I look back up at the man I may never see again.

“And then? When I fight it? When I come out of Brant’s body every time his conscience loses control?”

“I’m supposed to ignore you. Snub you. Make it clear how I feel.”

He laughs softly and sadly, a chuckle that runs fingers up my inner thigh and breaks my heart, all at the same time. “Your feelings for me show every time you look into my eyes. I used to think it was love for me. Now, I think it is your love for him.” He rubs a rough hand over the front of his pants. “I spoke to the doc, sometime after you and I fucked in here.” I flinch at the words, spoken carelessly, as if the act had been nothing. As if it hadn’t ripped out my heart and left it on the carpet that now lay between us.

“You talked to Dr. Terra?” I frown, irritated by the fact that Brant and Dr. Terra have kept this from me.

“Yeah.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looks at me, the move closer making my heart beat a little faster. “He explained to me how you were dating me, fucking me, just to keep Brant closer.” He stands, holding my eyes, and walks closer. “How every time you kissed me. Spread your legs for me. Got on your knees and sucked my cock, it was
for him
. Do you understand how that makes me feel?” He leans forward, places a hand on each arm of my chair and bends over me, my back stiffening as he lowers his face to my neck and inhales my scent. Buries his face in my hair and whispers my name as he smells me. “God, I’m gonna miss your smell.”

The tears flow down my cheeks, my control breaking into a thousand pieces as I clench my eyes shut and stay still, my fingers digging into the leather of the seat so hard that my hands cramp. I take a shaky breath, the action a sob, his head pulling back enough to place a soft kiss on my cheek, gentle imprints of lips along my cheekbones and chin, taking my tears before he takes a brush over my mouth. I open my lips but he withdraws, pushing off the chair arms. I feel his absence before I open my eyes, my vision clearing to see him standing before me, his hands tucked in his pockets, his face tight in a mixture of anguish and anger.

Anger. I understand it but I hate it. Understand, looking into his eyes, that he thinks I used him. Hell, maybe I did. I didn’t love him fairly and completely. I loved
Brant
. I loved fucking Lee. I loved Lee’s imperfections when Brant was so complete, grounded, brilliant. I loved Lee’s wild side, my ability to justify that I was
not
my mother, that I had chosen life and a lower class life, even if it was just for long enough to eat wings and fuck a boy and ride in a vehicle that was made in America. Did I use Lee? I stare in his eyes and see hate and love and hurt. I struggle to speak, but can’t find anything worthy to say.

“I loved you. I still love you. Even when I hate you, I love you. I always will. I’m not a smart man, but I know that.” He bites his lip in a way that tells me he is close to breaking. To crying. That motion alone brings a new wave of tears, my vision blurring and I rub a hard hand over my eyes, wanting to cement every last view of this man before I lose him forever. He blinks and his face tightens. “Tell me what you want. If you want it, I’ll leave. Not for him. I’ll never do anything for him. But for you, I’ll do it. I’ll fucking kill myself inside of him.”

I want to tell him I love him. I want to tell him but am no longer sure that I mean it. No longer sure that I love
him
and not because he is a part of Brant. The guilt of what I have done is suddenly heavy, enormous. I want to tell him everything I know he wants to hear. I want to tell him the things I do love him for, but will only complicate this situation even more. So I say the right thing. The thing that will help Brant most. I say the words and wonder at the effects they will cause.

“I want you to leave, Lee. Brant and I… we want a family. A life. But I will never forget you. I will always miss you.”