Hidden in Lies (14 page)

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, pulling me from my musings. “You look sad all of a sudden. Did I say something to upset you?” He searches my face like he so often does, looking for answers I’m not willing to give. It’s almost as if he sees right down to my soul.

“No, I’m fine. I must’ve zoned out for a second there.”

“Whatever you were thinking about obviously wasn’t making you happy, so let’s talk about something that does.”

I give him a small smile as a thank you for not digging into my foul mood. “Did you see the look on everyone’s face when they got on the bus? You would’ve thought I brought them to a magical kingdom or something.”

Looking around at our lavish surroundings, Alex says, “You kind of did. Have you looked at this thing? I’ve lived in apartments smaller than this.”

“Yeah, me too.” This brings a smile to my face. I remember my sophomore year of college living with two roommates in this disgusting house. Back then, it didn’t seem so bad. Now, I wouldn’t let a dog live in it. But we made the most of it and had a lot of fun.

“How old are you?” he asks. Hello, random.

I squint my eyes playfully at him. “I’m twenty-five and will forever remain twenty-five years old. Don’t you know not to ask a lady her age?”

Now it’s his turn to throw his head back and laugh before throwing his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I was just curious. You seemed to really enjoy being with all those kids and I was wondering if you saw yourself having any someday.”

And there goes my good mood. Do I want kids? Of course I do. I thought for sure I’d have at least one by now, but the universe intervened. I squirm in my seat, slightly uncomfortable with his super-personal questions. “Um, no. No kids for me.”

“You never want them?” Swallowing hard, all I’m able to do is shake my head. It’s a lie. I want kids more than anything at this point in my life, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy, and there will be hell to pay if anyone finds out why Cal and I haven’t had any children. Grace made that very clear. Alex stands up and walks across the aisle of the bus toward me. I can’t take my eyes off of him as he strides over and sits a mere inch from me. The smart part of my brain is telling me to put some distance between us. But the hungry part of my brain, the side that’s starving for attention and affection, tells me to stay put. That’s the side that wins out as I try to focus on breathing as his masculine scent assaults my nose and the heat radiating from his close proximity brings warmth to my whole body. “Elizabeth,” he says gently, “I’ve told you before, don’t bullshit me. You can’t lie for shit, especially to me.”

His statement stuns me a little. What, he doesn’t think I’m a good liar? I’m aware that lying is wrong and being good at it doesn’t make me a decent human being, but my whole life is built on a lie. I’ve faked and pretended my entire adulthood, fooling many in an attempt to be whatever wealthy man I was dating wanted me to be. How the hell can he see that I’m bullshitting when the man I’m married to can’t? “Uh, I—I was going to—,” I stammer, trying to explain before he cuts me off.

“If it’s something you don’t want to talk about, just say so. I won’t press the issue, but don’t feed me your carefully fabricated, practiced lines and expect me to fall for it. I see through you, sweetheart. I see through that ridiculous laugh you have in front of your friends, the stuffy clothes that make you uncomfortable, the way you brush off and allow dismissals and belittling insults thrown your way, but most importantly I see through this act that you’re okay with being treated like shit. You deserve better than that. There’s so much more to you than that pretty little face. There is a vibrant, fun, loving, smart woman hidden inside you. Set her free, Elizabeth.” His finger traces the shell of my ear as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind it. My lungs cease to take in air as I process what he’s just said to me. Crystal blues pierce my greens for what feels like an eternity. Neither of us says anything, just letting his words settle and sink in while this invisible current intensifies between us. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” I move to get up but he grabs my arm gently. “Please don’t, Alex.” I avoid looking at him, opting to focus on the wall in front of me instead. His grasp releases my arm and I continue on to the bathroom. Once I’m in there, I close the toilet seat and sit on it. As much as I try, I can’t stop the tears that fall from my eyes and run down my cheeks. Agitated by my overreaction, I quickly brush them from my cheeks.

I can’t deal with this myriad of emotions running amuck. It’s making me crazy and irrational. Standing up, I take a look at myself in the mirror. I never,
ever
cry. The fact that I’m doing so now is both confusing and startling. The problem becomes blatantly obvious.

Alex.

I was fine until he showed up. I wasn’t happy, but I managed. He makes me
feel
and question things. Damn him for that! I need to figure out a way to put distance between us. It’s the only thing that will keep me from drowning in the misery of my life.

CALL ME A
coward, but I stay in the bathroom until we reach our destination. Once Cal gets on the bus, I leave the small space and feign illness as an excuse to retreat to the bedroom for the rest of the night. Alex’s comments hit too close to home. He’s right about everything he said and I want to punch him for it. The bedroom door opens and closes, but I don’t bother rolling over on the bed to see who it is. I know it’s Cal.

“You know, it’s a shame we haven’t had sex since we’ve been on the road,” Cal says. The mattress dips beside me from his weight.

Shoving my thoughts to the back of my brain, I turn over to face him and put my game face on. “I know, but it’s not like we’ve had much privacy lately.” My mouth forms a sexy little pout to make it seem like I’m disappointed.

“We wouldn’t have a problem if you weren’t so vocal,” he says in a smug tone. The urge to roll my eyes is strong. Can he really not tell that I fake it each and every time? “But you know what doesn’t require any noise from you?”

I’m hesitant to respond, knowing exactly where this is going. “What?” I finally choke out, playing into his little game.

“A blow job.” He lays down on the bed next to me and places his hands behind his head, looking at me expectantly.

My mind goes over my options several times, knowing the right one is to give in and get it over with. But for some reason, I just can’t muster up enough energy to fake this. “I’m sorry, Cal, but I’m really not feeling well right now.” My hand runs gently down his chest, hoping to ease the sting of my refusal.

“I wasn’t asking, Elizabeth.” His eyes are cold as they stare into me, completely detached of emotion. My only response is to blink. Surely he can’t be implying what I think he is. “Get over here and give me head,” he demands. I’m stunned into silence and frozen in my spot. When I don’t move he says, “I will not tell you again.” The finality in his voice scares me. He’s never talked to me like this before and, quite frankly, I’m frightened. If I tell him no again, will he force me? Part of me says no way. He wouldn’t make me do something like that against my will. The other part takes in his hard, disconnected reaction and knows that he would. My throat clogs with emotion realizing that I can get up and do it with a little bit of dignity intact, or he could very well force me and make it ten times worse than it already is.

I sit up and move down to his lower half. Sitting back on my knees, I unzip his pants and release his already erect penis. The sight of it makes me cringe. God, I don’t want to do this right now. My eyes glance up at Cal where he raises an eyebrow as if to say, ‘Get on with it.’ So I do. I take the base of his cock in my hand and bring my mouth to the tip before taking him all the way in. There will be no messing around or teasing; I just want to get this over with quickly. I work him fast and hard like he likes it, bobbing my head up and down as fast as I can.

“That’s right, baby. You take that cock, you dirty little whore.” He grabs the back of my head and pushes down as he thrusts up. My gag reflexes kick in as he hits the back of my throat with each push. My jaw tightens trying to reject the intrusion. “Don’t you ever deny me again, you understand? Fucking whores like you love the cock,” he says through gritted teeth. Tears spring to my eyes as he continues to punish my mouth over and over. I’m trying to pull back slightly to ease the ache in my jaw, but he won’t let up. A slew of curse words, rants, and names are thrown out at me.

Bitch. Suck it harder. Fuck. Deeper. Slut.

He makes sure to take every ounce of his pleasure from me. Squeezing my eyes shut, unshed tears spill over and run down my cheeks. In this moment, I feel something I haven’t felt before, and it’s all-consuming.

Hate.

I’ve never been in love with him, but tonight I fucking hate Cal.

“Open your eyes now,” he barks out at me. I comply and don’t try to hide the rage burning within them. I stare into his eyes as he slams into my mouth over and over again. The sad thing is I think my anger and apparent resentment turns him on. Within a handful of seconds I feel him tensing. “You’re going to swallow every last drop. Just like a good little slut.” I do as I’m told as fast as I can, not wanting his taste to linger on my tongue any longer than it has to. He pats the top of my head like a fucking dog and says, “Good job, babe,” and then walks off toward the bathroom.

I crawl over to my side of the bed and collapse into my pillow. After a few moments, I notice the pillow feels wet. That’s when I notice that an endless stream of tears has been falling from my eyes. Never in my life have I felt so cheap, used, broken . . .

Violated.

My stomach starts to revolt as my mind flashes back to what just happened. I start to dry heave so I spring up from the bed and run into the other bathroom on the bus. Without a second to spare, I fall to my knees and empty all the contents of my stomach. When there’s nothing left, I continue to gag and dry heave, eager to remove every last bit of him from my body. My body is exhausted, drained, and sore from my violent vomiting. I lean back against the wall and wipe my mouth with my arm and begin to weep quietly. My arms are placed on top of my knees which are drawn into my body, my head resting on my arms as my body shakes from my restrained sobs.

A light knock on the door causes me to stop breathing. I place a hand over my mouth to help silence the noise I’m making. Fear and dread roll through my body at the thought of Cal being on the other side of that door.

“Elizabeth?” Alex asks quietly. I breathe out in relief but anxiety soon takes over. I can’t let him see me like this. He already knows me too well and in my vulnerable state I won’t be able to lie to him. My internal panic is cut short when the door opens slowly. My eyes immediately cast downward, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Alex crouches down in front of me and places his finger gently under my chin before lifting it up. I know all of my raw emotions are displayed across my face. I’m simply too tired to try to mask it this time. “Jesus, what happened?”

I study him seeing nothing but concern and worry etched in the planes of his face. From the furrow in his eyebrow, to the frantic way his eyes search my face, I know me not answering is killing him. Closing my eyes, I press my lips together and shake my head several times hoping that he understands that I can’t talk about this. He brushes the hair that’s caked to my cheek away from my face. “That’s okay, you don’t have to talk right now if you don’t want to, sweetheart.”

When I open my eyes, I don’t know what comes over me. I launch myself at him and hold on to him, trying desperately to soak in any bit of comfort I can. It doesn’t take long for him to react. His strong arms wrap around my body and hold me tight. He’s not here with me right now for any other motive, he’s here because he actually cares about me. The realization brings on the waterworks again despite my best efforts to hold them off. I bury my face in his neck and begin to sob again.

“Shhh, it’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you,” he says softly into my ear. He sits back against the cabinets, never letting me go. I’m curled up in his lap, clutching onto him like a lifeline as he slowly sways us back and forth while whispering words of comfort. I’m not sure how long we sit here, but my tears eventually dry and I know I need to get back to the bedroom. If Cal isn’t asleep already, he’s going to wonder where the hell I’ve been and why.

“I need to get to bed.” Pulling back, I wipe my face one last time before looking back up at Alex. Even with all the tension surrounding his face, he’s still devastatingly handsome. “I’m really sorry I cried all over you. I don’t know what my problem is.” I offer up a weak smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes. He reaches out and slowly strokes the skin below my eye with his thumb. The intimate gesture is almost my undoing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, the worry on his face still firmly in place.

I nod. “Yes, I’m okay. Thank you.” I don’t give him a chance to question me further or to delve into why I’m thanking him. I hop up and make a hasty retreat to the back bedroom. Slowly opening the door, I peak in to see if Cal is awake or not. Like I thought, his soft snores meet my ears telling me he’s sound asleep. Making as little noise as possible, I quickly change into my pajamas and carefully slide into bed. I pull the covers over me and stare up at the ceiling.