Last Chance (Liar Liar #3) (2 page)

“Says you.”

“You don’t believe me? Ask your father. He’s the one who spotted Jeff in the strip club in the first place. He told me about it.” I knew her father wouldn’t appreciate being dragged into this mess, but I had nothing left to lose.

“My father confided in you?” She snorted, a derisive sound that effectively conveyed her contempt. “You had him fooled too, didn’t you? How do you think he’ll feel when I tell him you were the one who raped and tried to kill me? That you were wearing this”—she gestured at me—“this mask so I wouldn’t recognize you.”

Her description was appropriate. Every time I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger’s face staring back at me, I wished I could peel off the mask and see
my
face again. But it was too late for that, too late to go back to being Matt Cooper.

“I’m sure he’ll want to hunt me down,” I said. “I’d feel the same way in his shoes, but that doesn’t change the facts. I didn’t do this to you, and I’ll find a way to prove it. You can go on blaming me, hating me, and I admit, after this latest stunt, I’ve given you reason to hate me, but you have to understand I entered into this thinking about how I could reclaim my life. I never expected…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words she wouldn’t believe or want to hear.

“What? You never expected what?”

Since she’d asked, I couldn’t evade her question. My days of lying to her were over. From now on, I’d tell her the truth, even if it hurt. “I never expected to have these feelings for you again. I thought I hated you.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “You must have hated me to do what you did.”

I ignored that comment, mainly because I knew she wouldn’t believe me until the evidence of my innocence was staring her in the face. “I looked you in the eye in that courtroom, silently begging you to save me, and you turned on me. Just like everyone else.”

“You expected me to save you?” She sounded incredulous, as though she couldn’t believe I’d had the audacity to spew those words. “Me? I was the victim. You deserved to burn in hell for what you did to me.”

“That first night, you told me you had your doubts about whether I was your attacker, that that’s why you didn’t reveal everything in court.”

“If I had any doubts, I don’t now. You’ve proven you’re every bit as sadistic today as you were back then. You earned my trust, convinced me to sleep with you, made me fall in love with you again—”

My eyes trapped hers, refusing to allow her to look away. “You’re still in love with me?”

“No!” She gripped the edges of her armchair. “How could I be? You’re a lying, manipulative, abusive bastard. I hate you.”

I heard her words, even expected them, but I saw a hint of something beyond the hurt in her eyes. She still felt something for me. She didn’t want to, but she did, and that gave me hope. Maybe when she was forced to face the truth, she would look at me and see the man she’d fallen in love with again.

“You hate me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what you believe.”

I was bickering with her just because I couldn’t stand the thought of watching her walk out the door. I knew this wouldn’t be the last time I saw her. One day, we’d be sitting on opposite sides of a courtroom, watching the man who’d brutalized her get his punishment, and I would revel in the knowledge that I had been the one behind his takedown. Because that was my mission now. No matter how long it took or how much it cost, I would get justice for her and for me. For us. Because that son of a bitch robbed us of the future we were meant to have.

“Are you going to turn me in?” I hoped she wouldn’t. While I had the resources to ensure someone continued the search for truth, I wanted that someone to be me. This was personal, and I couldn’t pay someone else enough to make them care about the outcome as much as I did. Besides, I didn’t want to go back to prison. I was strong enough to survive there, but I didn’t want to spend one more day in that wasteland.

“I should.” She bit her lip. “How can I not? How can I rest knowing you’re back on the streets?”

“I’ve been out for years,” I reminded her. “You feel safe with me.”

She glared at me. “You think I feel safe with you?”

“When you’re wrapped in my arms, you know no one can hurt you.” I was pushing her, maybe too far, but I wanted her to see the truth, to analyze her feelings and see what I saw. “You know I’d never hurt you. You feel it in the way I hold you, the way I kiss you, the way I make love to you.”

“You’re so sick,” she said, her face twisting with repulsion. “We didn’t make love. I had sex with an imposter. I thought you were some high-powered business mogul who’d built an empire from nothing. I admired your success. I was intrigued.”

“I am that guy. I developed the business plan in prison. I took courses, got enough credits to earn a business degree, and pored over my plan every waking minute. I knew about the power of affirmation and visualization because of my background as a fighter—”

“I don’t care about your story. If you’re trying to humanize yourself, it won’t work. You’ll never convince me you’re the man I thought you were. You lied about everything. Everything!”

“I had to have the right partner. I knew that was the key to making my plan work,” I said, pretending she hadn’t interrupted me. In spite of her protests, I knew a part of her wanted to know how the hell a guy who’d started with nothing, on the wrong side of the law, became a billionaire in less than a decade.

I chuckled. “I was bold as hell, trying to get a meeting with a man like Malcolm. I mean, who the hell was I to expect this giant to give me the time of day? But he did. He saw something in me, something special.”

She watched me warily, but at least she was still listening. I wanted to see just a hint of admiration in her eyes when she looked at me. Even though she was torn, angry, and confused, I wanted to believe we could find a way to move past this when the truth was revealed.

“I was hungry,” I continued. “He could see that. I wanted to be successful, to be somebody. You know why?”

“I don’t care why.”

“Because I felt like a nobody before. I wanted to give you the best of everything, and I couldn’t give you anything. I saw the way you lived, the nice house, clothes, cars, and jewelry. I wanted to give you all that and more. That was my motivation. You’re why I worked so hard to become successful.”

“I’d say you exceeded your goals,” she muttered. “No one needs
that
much money. It’s obscene.”

I laughed. It felt so good to laugh, even if her lips twisted in disapproval. “Trust me, it’s better to have too much than not enough. Seeing your dad again, that was unreal.”

“Why?”

Encouraged by her question, I said, “Because the last time, when I was working for him, I felt…” I couldn’t find the right words. “I don’t know, like I was invisible. He’d walk right by me like I wasn’t even there. He wouldn’t look at me. He looked through me, like I wasn’t important.”

Maura sighed. “That’s my father. He doesn’t feel most people are worthy of his attention. Sometimes I’m not even sure I am.”

“He loves you, Maura.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to say that or why I sensed she needed to hear it, but reassuring her had always been my M.O. Making her feel better made me feel better.

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

I shrugged. “Anyway, this time, he looked at me with awe, maybe a bit of reverence. And it felt good. Damn good.”

“That’s only because he didn’t know who you really are. Wait ‘til he finds out.”

“Then you’re going to tell him everything?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

I hooked a finger over my shoulder. “Because what we shared last night was real.” I circled my face with my index finger. “This may not be real.” Pointing back and forth between us, I said, “But this, what you and I have, that’s still real. You can’t deny our connection. You can’t deny I make you feel things no other man ever has.”

“Under false pretenses. You can’t hold that against me.”

I admired her tenacity. She was determined to hold fast to her convictions. “I’m just trying to open your eyes to the truth. If I was the sick bastard you think I am, I wouldn’t have let you walk away: that morning in the hotel, in the pool house, this morning. I would have held you against your will. I would have hurt you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I love you.” She didn’t believe me, but I still felt compelled to say it. “I guess I’ve never stopped loving you.” I chuckled. “Honestly, I thought it was impossible to feel anything for you after what happened in court, but you were lying in my arms that first night and I was listening to your story, the reasons you believed it was me, and I knew I was in trouble. I was starting to feel things for you, things I never expected to feel again.”

She looked so lost. I wanted more than anything to go to her, but I couldn’t touch her. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“I don’t even know why I’m sitting here listening to this.” She stood. “I’m leaving.” She looked at me warily, as though she half-expected me to grab her. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“Does that mean you don’t intend to turn me in?”

“I don’t know yet.” She crossed the room before looking over her shoulder. “I have a lot to think about.”

Chapter Two

Days passed, and I kept waiting for the cops to show up at my door to arrest me, but they didn’t. She’d kept my secret.

I was pulling into the parking lot at the loft building when I spotted Maura getting out of her car. I shouldn’t be there—even though I owned the building and had a fully furnished apartment waiting for me, I should have stayed in a hotel—but I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to catch a glimpse of her. But now that I had, I wanted more.

I snagged the first available spot and threw the Ferrari into park before she could slip inside. I knew she’d seen me. The car was impossible to miss. She’d seen me and was trying to avoid me, but I couldn’t make it that easy for her.

I walked into the lobby, and I was surprised to find her checking her mail. I’d assumed she would make a beeline for the elevator. Could she have been waiting for me?

“Hi,” I said, bracing one hand on the wall by the row of silver boxes. I was close but not too close, careful not to invade her personal space or make her feel intimidated.

“What are you doing here?” She shuffled through bills, not looking at me. “I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“You did.” I took in the gentle curve of her neck, remembering how she used to writhe in my arms when I kissed her
there
…

“Well? What are you doing here then?”

“I own the building, remember?” I hadn’t intended to play that card, and I cursed myself for doing so. I was trying to bridge the gap between us, not widen it by being a pompous ass.

“Don’t make me get a restraining order.” Her lips curled into a smug smile. “Of course, a stalking claim would be the least of your concerns if I went to the police.”

“But you haven’t gone to them. Why?”

“Because if I did, I’d have to tell them the whole sordid story. They’d know I was stupid enough to get taken in by a con artist not once, but twice.”

“If you feared for your safety, you wouldn’t be concerned about your pride.” I didn’t know why I was pushing her. I should just be grateful I was still a free man, but I wanted her to admit, at the very least, that she wasn’t afraid of me.

“Do you want me to go to the police?”

An elderly lady stepped off the elevator.

Maura’s demeanor changed instantly as she waved and smiled at her neighbor. “Hello, Mrs. Martinez. How are you today?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just fine.” She clutched her handbag as she stared at me, squinting and pursing her lips. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so, ma’am.” I was taken aback by her intense perusal.

She eyed me like a tailor fitting me for a suit, from top to bottom and side to side, even peering behind me to check out my ass.

Maura stifled a laugh before clearing her throat. “Mrs. Martinez, this is the gentleman my father sold the building to. His name is Blaise Walsh.”

I looked at Maura, searching for some hint that she was uncomfortable using my alias, but her poker face gave nothing away. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I offered my hand to my new tenant.

“That’s where I know you from,” she said, ignoring my hand as she snapped her fingers. “You own that fighting thingy.”

I smiled at the term, surprised she’d recognized me. She wasn’t exactly our target market. “Warriors Fighting Challenge, and yes, you’re right. I’m the founder and C.E.O.” I caught a glimpse in the mirror of Maura rolling her eyes. I didn’t care if she was unimpressed by my title. I’d worked damn hard to get where I was, and no one, not even her, could belittle my accomplishments.

“My grandson lives with me,” Mrs. Martinez explained. “I can’t tear him away from the TV when those fights are on.” She clucked her tongue. “So violent, always a blood bath.”

“I’ve known Blaise a long time,” Maura interjected. “He’s never been averse to violence.”

I bit back the sharp retort I knew would put her in her place, but if she thought I would be her personal punching bag, she was delusional. “If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Martinez, Maura and I were just going to grab a cup of coffee at the café around the corner.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Martinez said. “My taxi’s probably here anyway.” She checked her watch. “Oh my, I’d better hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

We watched her shuffle off before Maura said, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“We’re going to talk, so you have three choices. Either we talk in a public place where you’ll feel safe, right here where your neighbors may overhear, or upstairs in private. You decide.”

“Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do? You don’t own me.”

I sighed. I didn’t know why I expected her to be reasonable. “I’m in town because my private investigator gave me the contact information for the guys who helped build your parents’ pool house.”

She frowned as she clutched her mail against her chest. “Why would you want to contact them?”