Compulsive (Liar #1) (8 page)

I exhaled, hoping my face hadn’t blushed over my
idiotic imagination. “Yes, I think I’ve had quite enough excitement for one
night.”

--------------------------

“Seriously. Who wears hot pink to a stakeout?” I said to Becca.

She sat in the passenger seat of my car sucking down a
caramel iced coffee, her hot pink nails drumming with agitation on the side of
the cup. “It’s not a freakin’ stakeout. That’s my freakin’ house!”

“Are you sure he’s not home?”

She pulled her cell from her purse and tapped out a
number. Then, she gave me a confident nod and a wink as she held the phone to
her ear. “Yes, hi. I brought my car in there yesterday for an oil change, and
now it reeks of cigarette smoke!” She smiled and took a sip of her drink. “I
don’t smoke! And I want to talk to the owner…now. Is he in?” After a short
pause, she raised her eyebrows at me. “Thank you.” She touched
End
,
tossed it into her purse, and said, “Let’s go.”

We strolled across the street casually and wandered up
to Becca and Harvey’s middle-class house. She chose to leave since she could
live with her sister, but now, he made it impossible to get things when she
needed them. I couldn’t bring myself to ask if he’d shown his temper to her as
well. As soon as we arrived at the door, footsteps came up the walk.

“Rebecca?” We turned to find a short blonde woman with
a gangly toddler on her hip. “I thought that was you.”

“Nannette. Hi,” Becca said, plastering on a quick toothy
smile.

“Hey. Surprised to see you here.” Her voice held an
awkwardness that told us she was more than surprised.

“Uh…this is my niece, Gray.”

“Nice to meet you, Gray.”

“You, too.”

“How’ve you been, Nannette? My gosh, Alec has gotten
so big.” Becca brushed the back of her hand down the boy’s cheek, and I held
back a giggle. She hated kids since…well, since I was one. She didn’t have an
ounce of mothering instinct in her.

“You should see Chelsea,” Nannette said. “Like a weed,
that girl.” She paused, looking over her shoulder nervously. “So, I hate to be
a stickler, but Harvey says you’re not supposed to be coming around the house
when he’s not here.”

“What the hell?” I said.

Becca put a hand on my crossed forearms as if I might
do something stupid. “Nannette, this is
my
house. I live here. Well, I
used to. I left of my own free will.”

“Harvey told Roger that…” Nannette set Alec down and
pointed across the lawn to a bigger girl drawing chalk on the next driveway.
“Honey, go play with your sister.” The boy hesitated a beat, but then shuffled
over. “Roger said you cheated on Harvey, and he made you leave.”

“What the Fu…Nannette, I swear to you, Harvey’s lying.
Look, none of this matters or is your business anyway. I don’t mean to be rude,
but this is my house. If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to get.”

“Fine.” Nannette pulled out her phone as she backed
away.

“Hey…you’re not calling Harvey, are you?” I asked,
stepping toward her. We couldn’t take the chance of him rushing home and
confronting us here.

“Uh…” She looked down at her phone and back at me as I
paced into her personal space.

“You’re making a big mistake.” My confident stare left
her blinking in consideration.

She clicked the phone off and stuck a hand on her hip,
summoning her courage. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of those. I bet you didn’t know
that douche canoe was an abuser.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she gaped at Becca for
confirmation.

Becca had appeared as shocked as Nannette at my
outburst. “I…”

“Harvey hit me!” I shot out, bringing all eyes back to
me. “And he probably hit Becca, too. She just won’t admit it.”

Nannette shook her head incredulously. “I don’t know
what to believe.” Her gaze swiped from us to her kids and back to us. “Just
hurry and get out of here.
Please
.” She shoved the phone into her back
pocket and stalked off, the echo of her words trailing as she left. “I don’t
need this crap. I’m potty training for Pete’s sake!”

I jogged back to the door where Becca stood frozen in
place. “C’mon!” I said, grabbing her arm. “She might change her mind. Let’s
go!”

Becca let us into the house and headed straight back
to the bedroom. I took the opportunity to snoop around, and see if there was
anything I could use against Harvey in case the situation escalated further.
Someone as slimy as him was bound to have a few skeletons in his closet, or at
least a woman in a pit.

Drawers opened and closed, closets slammed, she
ransacked the place. The fridge stank like mildew when I opened it. A small
kitchen window faced the street. I peeked out to see what Nannette was up to.
The kids were still in their front yard, Nannette not in view. My mind flashed
back to Harvey in my apartment, his horrid expression before he let me have it.
Hot anger pulsed through me, and I began rummaging through every cupboard and
drawer.

After I scoured the grimy kitchen, the cluttered
living room followed. I flipped up a few cushions and riffled through a side
desk, making sure to return everything to its original position. Like he’d even
notice.

A fake tree in the corner of the room next to the TV
caught my eye. The wicker basket that held it tilted up on one side. I slid
across the wooden floor to it, easing it up on one side. A white envelope
rested underneath. Inside, I found a stack of hundred dollar bills and a bankbook.
I gaped at the pile of cash, my heart thudding faster. I grasped the stack of
money and started to tuck it inside my bra. Who knew where it came from or why
it was there, but Harvey sure as hell didn’t deserve it. If anything, I could
give it to Becca. This had to be him holding out on her. I sat on my knees with
my hand still clutching the wad against my chest. Daniel’s face came into view.
Complete honesty
. It’s not like he would ask me.
Shit
! I returned
the money to the envelope, then I opened the bankbook and took a picture of it
with my phone. Once I tucked the book back behind the cash, I stood with the
prize in my hand. Slipping past the bedroom, I entered the hallway bathroom.
There I lifted the seat and gently placed the envelope afloat in the bowl.
Message
sent, asshole
.

I jumped across the hall to find Becca leaving the
bedroom with a large duffle bag. “Ready?” I asked, feeling damp around my
hairline.

“Yeah, I think that’s it.” She grabbed my arm when I
tried to go. “Hey, that was fast thinking out there with Nannette. Sometimes I
forget how good you really are.” The hope in her eyes looked for my response.

I pulled my lips tight, tucking them under my teeth,
my stare answering what she didn’t want to be true.

Her head vibrated from side to side. Her eyes puddled.
“No.”

“I’m sorry, Becca.”

“When?”

“The day you met with the lawyers.”

The bag thumped on the floor. Her arms wrapped around
me. “My God, why didn’t you tell me, Gray?”

A hand glided up and down my back. My breathing
stuttered under her embrace as emotions filled me. Becca hadn’t held me like
that in years. Not since… I yanked out of her arms, free from an onslaught of
feelings I dreaded would come. “We should get out of here.”

“Hold on,” she said, trailing me to the door. “What
happened?”

My hand held the knob, waiting. “He came to my
apartment, asking me to talk to you. He wanted me to tell you I lied about
seeing him with LuAnn that night.”

“That’s why he hit you?” Her painful expression left a
lump in my stomach. “Was it…bad?

She hadn’t asked if it was a lie. Not then and not now,
which told me she didn’t want to know. She wanted out either way. “I’m fine. It
was a slap, and he left. C’mon, let’s go.”

“God, I’m so sorry. That bastard is going to pay.”

The picture on my phone popped into my head, but I
cautiously held off mentioning it.

Halfway down the driveway, Becca came to a halt. “Aw,
crap!”

“What?”

“My mom’s turkey platter and gravy boat.” She shoved
the bag at my arms. “I’m not leaving without those.”

“Jeez, Becca. Hurry up.” She ran back up to the house
as I ran to the car and tossed the hefty bag in the back. I started the car
like a bandit and pulled it into the driveway for a fast getaway.

Quiet laughter registered to my left, as I kept my
focus on the front door. I left the window up, ignoring the two young children
playing. Their innocent giggles, a faint whisper coming through the glass, eventually
drew my attention. I turned, catching a big sister lovingly holding out a piece
of chalk for her younger brother. The age difference was painfully close to
Noah’s and mine. The girl stepped away from my gaze, which was locked on the
boy scribbling light blue chalk in circles. The scraping against the sidewalk
grew louder in my head, even though I had left the window in place. The chalk
pinged to the ground, and then his eyes met mine. His blue fingertips rose to
his lips, pressing against them and then reached up to the sky. Heartbeats echoed
in my head, my eyes unable to turn from the ghostly image before me.

“Gray!” I heard my name, but it hadn’t pulled me away.
“Hey…let’s go!” Becca touched my arm. I blinked out of the figment to find her
sitting in the passenger seat with a gravy boat on a tray balanced in her lap.

* * *

With an Asian salad from a nearby deli in hand, I entered my hollow
apartment, planning to eat and work the rest of the night. The thrilling life
and times of a single head case. A light blue flyer lay at my feet as I stepped
inside, and I crouched to retrieve it. The fundraiser Alyssa had mentioned
would be a neighborhood garage sale. I grinned at the thought of her wanting to
help her new friend, but the thought was quickly replaced with the possibility
of seeing Daniel there.

I stopped at the island and glared at my stainless
steel refrigerator. It was going to be one of those nights. I could feel it.
Fucking
rules
. Not a drop of alcohol found in the place, and my nerves were beyond
agitated.

I set my things down onto the counter and readied my
phone to call Nathan. As many years as we’d been out of AA, we were still each
other’s unofficial sponsor with our own set of rules. Rule number one: no
alcohol in the home. It was one thing to kill the pain in public, planting
yourself in the middle of a festive environment. Drinking alone in seclusion
for the sole purpose of drowning your sorrows was pathetic and habit forming.
Okay, so I hadn’t totally adhered to that one, but tonight Old Mother Hubbard
didn’t have Jack Squat to cheat with. Rule number two: when one felt pathetic
or lonely or one of the other multitudes of emotions we the tormented feel,
pick up the phone. Over the years, ending up in bed together gradually morphed
into cuddling on the couch, which morphed into talking on the phone. Still,
there were those occasions when we had a drink together, or we were both horny
as hell. One signal led to another, and I was palming his sweat-slicked ass as
he balanced atop rippled arms and pumped into me until we both screamed in exquisite
relief. There was no denying we had that part of our relationship perfected, and
the hangover the next day was much less painful.

Nathan’s line went right to voice mail. I went
straight to the couch without leaving a message. The thought crossed my mind
that it was no longer fair for me to count on him.

I booted up my laptop before digging into my dinner
for one. When I had finally emailed the information Daniel needed, I hinted
that I might have something else for him. Could I really offer that up on a
silver platter and risk how he might look at me?

Ignoring my email, I clicked over to the folder
instinctively. Huge chunks of time were missing. I wasn’t always consistent.
But, this file represented a snapshot of my life, my indiscretions, my inner
most thoughts for the last ten years.

I scrolled down until I reached an entry that caught
my eye, one of the first things I’d written.

I can’t believe I finally have my driver’s license.
Dad made it almost impossible for me to do this, and I think he did it on
purpose. The first time I was scheduled for the driving test, he never showed
up to take me. I ended up going to pick him up, passed out at some woman’s
house. Yes, that’s right. I drove, without my license, to pick up my dad,
causing me to miss getting my actual driver’s license! The second time he was
still drunk when I drove us to the DMV. The instructor asked if he was okay. I
told him my dad had cerebral palsy and read him the “disabilities” riot act.

And how do I get to celebrate my newfound freedom?
I get to drive to my Aunt Becca’s house to take care of her dumb ass cat, so
she and her twin sister can go on their twin vacation with their loser
husbands. God, I hate that Harvey. He’s such a slime and looks like he’s straight
out of a seventies porn. Do I sound negative? I promise you I wasn’t always
this much of a downer.

Tomorrow is Noah’s birthday. I’m sure Dad probably
has no clue, and I’m not going to fucking tell him. A while back, I told him I
wanted to have a special dinner and asked if he could arrange it. If he
forgets, I’ll know he doesn’t give a shit about Noah or Mom. I’ll know he
doesn’t give a shit about me either. And then, neither    will I.

--------------------------

After six sessions with Daniel, I still hadn’t lost my obsession with
that damn notepad, not to mention the man himself. I’d attempted to get a peek
of it at the end of our last session by stalling my exit. I’d asked for a
moment because our conversation had turned heated, ending with me taking the
fifth. My defense mechanisms had come out. I grew angry with him for prying me
open and forcing me to face and examine the black hole in my heart. The very
thing I had hoped to avoid by sending him excerpts from my journal. Daniel had claimed
that while he appreciated the history lesson it would be of no use unless I
talked about how I felt about what I wrote then and how I feel about it now. We’d
been discussing an entry I sent him about my father and moving out of the house
before I even graduated high school. He’d asked about my relationship with my
father and why the tone of entry was so aggravated. That had been enough to
shut me up even with fifteen minutes still left in our session. Unfortunately,
Daniel had tucked his treasured notepad and little stack of files right into
his briefcase before I could make any attempts at inspecting it.

“Gray?”

My blurred vision pulled into focus at hearing my
name. “Yes.”

“Yes, you want to continue our discussion from last
week about your father, or yes, you heard my question?” His black glasses mounted
securely in place, and his pressed dark gray suit gave him a sexy Wall Street
look.
So unfair
.

“No…I mean, yes.” I drew my gaze from him and took it over
to the window. Outside the clouds, dirty and hovering, provided a thick blanket
for the city below. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the question,” I admitted.

“Are you feeling…distracted by something today?”

I turned to him and folded my arms. “Actually, yes.”

“You’re welcome to bring up any subject you like
here.”

Oh, I had a few things I wanted to bring up
.
“Really?”

“Please, tell me what you’re thinking.” His soothing
tone sounded as if he should be next to me with his arm around my shoulders,
pulling me into his chest. Could I tell him there was another form of therapy I
wanted from him? I wondered how many times some needy woman fantasized about
him melting away her troubles…and then her panties.

Instead of focusing on my longing to have Daniel inspecting
something other than my brain, I decided to concentrate on what had been
gnawing on me like an annoying flea. “Why don’t you record our conversations if
you’re writing down everything I say?”

A slow grin rose up on one side of his mouth. “I’m not
writing down everything you say.”

I rubbed my temple in frustration, though his playful
response chipped away at my wall.

“Think of this as merely a… snapshot if you will. It
helps me get a clearer picture of you.” The amusement in his eyes calmed my agitation,
but instilled some suspicion. He must have noticed something, because he
continued. “Can you tell me why it bothers you so much?”

“No.” He didn’t make it easier to decipher my already
confused feelings.

“You can’t tell me, or you won’t?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I feel like you’re making
judgments about me on that paper.”

“I think
judgment
is an incorrect evaluation no
matter what I’m doing. I’d never make a judgment about you. Possibly an
observation, a speculation.”

“Okay, maybe I don’t like you
speculating
about
me.”
Why was my tone so whiny
?

“Isn’t that why we’re here, Gray?” My agitation
completely disarmed, then hearing my name spoken from his lips in that
persuasive tone. Each time I heard it, the sound became more familiar. Not many
men have said my name to me, since they often didn’t know it. So, hearing it
roll off Daniel’s tongue in his attempt to get through to me fueled my
attraction and made me feel more connected to him. Obviously, I was under no
false assumption about any kind of relationship happening now or after. Even
those times when I recognized that look in his eyes before he snatched it away,
replacing it with his professional gander. Even then I knew it was unrealistic
at best. “I’d like you to think of us as a team,” he went on. “We’re both here
for the same purpose.” He removed his glasses, crossed one leg over his knee,
and leaned over it. “You have some things to work out, and I’m helping you do
that. Passing judgment on you is the furthest thing from my mind. I can assure
you of that.”

Instinctively, I shook my head while my eyes rolled to
the top of my head. How I wished those words were true and not some
doctor-speak crap.

“You don’t believe me?”

I shrugged. “I’m still speculating on that one.”

He laughed too genuine to be solely role-play, and my
heart warmed. “Which part of that is hard for you to believe?” he asked.

“Okay, it’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s that I
understand why you’re doing it. It’s your job.”

“Oh, I see. I’m helping you for the money?” For the
first time, the irritated tone came from Daniel and not me. I liked getting an
emotional response, even as minor as it was.

“Well, it
is
your job, and I’m sure you make a decent
living at it. I’m not saying it’s wrong.”

He paused, then with a head nod said, “Okay.” That one
word carried so much weight. He was giving in, making it clear my assumptions
had no merit.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I won’t take your assessment personally. Mostly
because you don’t know me well enough.” His eyes challenged me. The confidence
in his tone and expression sent a thrill through me. Even if I were to regret
my next words, I couldn’t stop them from coming.

“I’d like to change that, Daniel.”

I kept his gaze for another instant, before he pulled
it away. A flash of concern lit his face. Even before that, just as my words
were spoken, I saw something in his eyes. His will had not discouraged me. That
tiny instant revealed a side of Daniel I longed to discover. And I was more
determined than ever to get him to show me.

“You certainly are proficient in the art of changing
the subject,” he finally said, composed.

“I believe you’ve done a damn good job of it yourself.”

He chuckled. “Touché.” He turned his head to the side,
unable to hold back his smile, a gesture I hadn’t seen him do in a while.

I almost felt guilty, but this really wasn’t a game to
me. “I’m sorry.” My words must have been unexpected because he turned,
straight-faced. “This whole thing started because I thought you were making
judgments about me, and then I go and do the same thing to you. That was
unfair.”

“I appreciate you saying that. Now, let’s try to get
back on track for the last few minutes we have.”

Disappointment flooded me. I’d hoped to learn more
about Daniel the man, and I dreaded returning to the subject we left.

“Our deal stands,” he said, catching my reaction. “If
you’re not ready to discuss your father…”

“No, it’s okay. Yes, there’s obviously a lot of anger
still here.” Saying those words weighed heavy at the pit of my stomach. I
turned to my escape window, now only an allusion in darkness. The display had morphed
into a murky gray sky, the glass clearly reflecting Daniel watching and waiting
for my response.

“Gray, are you sure you want to talk about this now?”

I nodded. “In a way, I don’t blame my father for
everything that happened.” My heart raced as I spoke. “I guess I was too young
to remember how he acted before my mother died, but I don’t think she would
have picked a loser. When life kicks the shit out of you, you’re bound to
change.” I heard Daniel put down his pencil, and I turned back to him, his warm
eyes showing me I could trust him to open up. “I remember wanting so badly for
him to look at me. Talk to me.” My voice started to shake. I swallowed and then
took a deep breath.

“That must have been extremely difficult for you to
cope. You were so young.”

“At times, it was extremely difficult. I was around
seven when she died…It’s not like he ignored me, though. At first, there was a
lot of talk about Noah and making sure his needs were met when Grandma wasn’t
around to help us. But it felt more like he was merely a vessel. Vacant, you
know? The crazy part was that even at a young age I felt bad for him. I
understood. Then, as I got older, I really started to notice the neglect. When
he’d drink too much, we’d get in these huge fights.”

“In a sense you were in the wrong roles. You as the
parent and he as the child?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s not uncommon. We all deal with loss in different
ways…to different degrees.”

My lips pulled into a straight line.

“I’m not defending him,” he said.

The rational side of me believed that, but too many
times people in my life had defended him. Becca, Evyn, sometimes even Nathan
saw his side. “I know. I just kept hoping with each year that things would get
better.”

“And that never happened?”

“No. They actually got worse because…” I glanced to
the clock. A few minutes of our session remained.

“Don’t worry about the time. Please…continue.”

I breathed through a thought, wondering if I was ready
to relive it right there with Daniel. I wasn’t. “I’m not a perfect person,” I
said suddenly. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m not trying to blame
everything on him.”

“What do you blame on him?”

I shook my head, staring straight ahead. My chest
tightened. The back of my eyes burned.
I once felt a love so deep it led me past
the darkness of losing my mother. Why? Why did I deserve this?

“Are you all right?”

“Gray?”

Breathe
… My mind slowly closed over the memory
and began to work in its normal protective fashion. I scrambled for a way out.
“You have anything to drink here?”

“Water.”

“That’s a little lighter than I had in mind.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“Do you blame your drinking on your father? On his
drinking?”

“No, actually. I don’t. I hated how useless he was
when he drank himself into a stupor. But, at least there were times when he’d
had a few, right before too many, where he’d been almost a father. We’d had some
laughs. He’d talk to me. What I’ve done has nothing to do with him and his
drinking.”

“Yet, at some point in your life, you turned to
alcohol to cope?”

I nodded, feeling no shame for my decisions. “When I
was a senior in high school, I started having these visions…images of the exact
same nature. I tried to ignore them at first, blow it off as nothing. I never
had anyone to talk to, so I majored in ignoring problems. But, they continued
to haunt me. It became so painful…so confusing each time it happened. One day
it happened in school, and I just took off. At home, I pulled out my father’s
whiskey and drank straight from the bottle, hot liquid burning down my throat.”
I chuckled at my naivety. “Over time, I learned that with the help of booze, and
later, a few recreational drugs, the visions faded away. Even
being
with
someone seemed to help them disappear. The pain lessoned. That’s all I wanted.
To feel nothing. But lately, it’s been happening more.” I hadn’t looked at
Daniel once while speaking, and after a time he still hadn’t said anything.
What I found when I regarded him was a set of compassionate blue eyes. His
expression, gentle and kind, took me by surprise. This was the man, not the
doctor. In that moment, I felt I could tell him anything. Expose myself to him,
rid myself of these demons in a healthy way. When he didn’t speak, I said, “I’m
sorry. I see I’ve taken up extra time.”

He shook his head, his expression almost pained. “No...it’s
fine.” Then, my therapist returned, a drawn breath bringing him back into
focus. “Would you like to talk about the visions?”

I stood on wobbly legs, drained of their strength. My
will depleted with the realization that I would need Daniel if I were going to let
myself heal and not Dr. Harrison. “Not today, Daniel.”