Lying Lips (14 page)

Pouty and perturbed was the look on my children’s faces as their father sent them away with hugs and kisses. They were afraid. They were confused.

It was all my fault.

Allegra knew the deal and wanted answers. And she needed those answers from me. Armani knew something, his silence told me that, and more likely than not he needed confirmation or denial from me. Amaya knew just how sick I was, sort of, and needed assurance that I was alright.

They all needed to know that everything with me was okay.

I was their mother. I was their post to the world. What they held on to. What they depended on. What kept them stable. To see that stability falter even just a little could be, and was for them, traumatizing.

I had to stop the madness that was now beginning to affect every aspect of my life.

The games had to end.

Asanti had to go.

But how?

“Sweetie, you’re thinking way too hard,” I heard Ashton say as he walked back near me and took his previous place on the bed next to me. Slowly, gently, he grabbed my hand. And stared at me. Really stared at me. “You really should give that mind of yours a rest.” He smiled.

It was a beautiful smile.

It was the smile that I fell in love with.

Soon I would shatter that smile.

“I’m okay now,” I lied.

He knew I was lying.

“No, you’re not. You haven’t been okay since you got back from Washington.”

My heart pounded.

Washington D.C.

Where it all began.

Did he know? 

“No honey, seriousl—”

He cupped my face in his hand. Then brought his lips down on mine ever so gently. That’s the way it always was with Ashton. Loving and gentle. Always. He ended the beautiful kiss. And stared at me once more.

“You’re my wife. I know you in and out. When something is wrong with you I know it. I can’t help but to know it.” He leaned in closer to me. “Because when something is wrong with you, something is wrong with me.”

There was nothing I could even think to speak. What
could
I say? You’re right, love, something
is
wrong. You’re right, honey, I’m cheating on you? You’re right, baby, I’m not undercover, the truth of the matter is that I’m married to two men? What the hell could I say?

I had gotten myself into some seriously deep water and I would soon drown if I didn’t start backstroking my way out.

“Honey, I’m just—” Again I was cut off by my husband. It seemed as if he was determined to keep me from lying to him.

Again.

“I’ll give you some time to deal with everything Mrs.
Bentencourt
,” he said to me as he stared me down hard. “But not too much time.” I was stunned and shocked. He said my last name, his last name, as if he owned me. Really owned me. In my heart I truly believed that he did. “But when I’m ready to have my wife back,
my wife
, if you still haven’t handled that other situation, I
will
step in and shut shit down! The way
I,
your
husband
, see fit.”

I jumped at those words. My husband never spoke like that. Never spoke to me like that. Never spoke to anyone like that.  It scared me. In a bad way.

And why was he fixated on the fact that I was his wife all of a sudden? Almost as if he knew.

Damn.

I knew I was in trouble like never before.

Less than an hour later I was in heaven. My husband, the first one, had bathed me, fed me, and gave me a massage that was so fiyah it melted my muscles. But he’d also shocked me when he held out a pill and asked me to take it.

“Where did you get that?” I asked him cautiously.

It looked just like the pill Dr. McGill had prescribed for me. Immediately I began a silent panic. Had he gone into my bag and saw the prescription? Did he now know I was in Los Angeles and not in Washington? Was he aware that I’d been ill for a few days now? Did he know the truth about Asanti?

I began to shake again.

“Baby,” he looked at me strangely when I hadn’t yet reached out to remove the pill from his hand, “it’s only a pill. Dr. Wilkinson prescribed it for you.”

“Dr. Wilkinson?” I asked, confusion evident all over my face.

“Yes London,” My husband chuckled, “I called the doctor immediately after you fell out. Remember? The doctor Amaya was talking about? He examined you and diagnosed you. And he prescribed you this,” he said as he continued to hold the pill out to me.

“Oh.” I had no idea what else to say.

“
Why
? What did you think? That I was trying to poison you?” He looked at me as if he really did want to poison me.

That was when I knew we needed to talk.

There was still some stuff that was unresolved.

“Ashton, listen baby,” I began. But he held up his hand and stopped any other words from escaping my lying lips.

“We can talk about this later. You need rest right now and I intend to see that you get it.”

He sat on the bed closer to me and placed the pill in front of my mouth. Like an obedient child I opened my mouth and my husband placed the pill on my tongue. My heartbeat accelerated.

Then he reached over me, his hands running across my chest, over to the nightstand, grabbed a glass of water that had miraculously appeared and placed the lip on my lips. My heart started to pound.

Slowly, ever so slowly, while looking into my eyes, he tilted the glass and the water gently slid into my mouth and down my throat along with the pill.

Suddenly I was hot in the pants.

And for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why.

What the hell was wrong with me? There I was taking medication with water while desiring to jump my husband’s bones.

I swallowed hard and licked my lips.

“I’m okay, Ashton,” I said as I tried to focus on the matter at hand. “I know you really need answers and I’m ready to give them to you.”

“No London, we can—“

“We can talk about it now,” I cut him off. “I won’t be able to rest unless this matter is put to rest as much as possible.”

He contemplated for a while, then replied. “Okay. We’ll talk now. But if you seem upset in any way, or ill in any way, I’ll end it asap.”

“Okay. So where do we begin?”

“We begin with why you’ve been pulling disappearing acts lately.” His statement was to the point. “You’ve had many undercover stories before and you’ve never once done this, London. It makes me wonder.”

How should I play this? Should I pretend to be insulted? Should I wing it as I go? Should I reveal nothing? Every thought in the world came to mind as to how I should handle the situation except one. I never once considered telling the truth.

That was simply out of the question.

For now.

So I decided to lie again.

“Because this time the people I’m dealing with are dangerous,” I looked up at him as I spun the lie in my head. “They’ve been dangerous before, but not to this degree. They have some serious government clout. Some serious government connections. And the power to make all of our lives a living hell if I’m not careful.”

He was quiet as he watched me.

“Why would you take a job that would put you, put us, at risk? That’s so unlike you.”

It wasn’t always good to have someone know you so well. And Ashton knew me well. He knew I would not do it for money so that lie was out of the window. He knew I would never do it for the celebrity status that it would give me, I wasn’t an attention hog. So where did that leave me? What reason could I give for supposedly putting us all in danger?”

“I can’t tell you that until after I have all of the information I need.” The look on his face told me that he didn’t like that response but that he would respect it because it was my job. “Baby, I wish I could tell you. But for your safety and for the safety of the kids, I won’t give you that information. I don’t want you in any more danger than you may already be in.”

“As long as we are married and live together, London, we’re all in danger.”

That’s it!

That’s it!

Ashton had just given me a way to get another house!

“Any government official can look up your information and see that we’re married and that we live together with our kids,” he continued as if I should have known as much.

“Well, not necessarily,” I said as I tried to stand up and let my brain wheels turn. Immediately I became dizzy and was pulled back down by my husband, the first one.

“Relax London,” he warned, and soothed at the same time.

After taking a few deep breaths and getting my bearings, I started again. “Not if you can get me a house.”

“Excuse me,” he said as he looked at me like I was deranged.

“See, baby,” I began as the story solidified itself in my head, “when I write I go by Legaci Carmichael. Everyone on my job knows me as just that. The only people that know my real name are my family and friends. So although London is married with kids, Legaci is not.” I began to breathe faster as my adrenaline rushed at the formation of the lie that would keep me in the clear just a little longer.

“If the government digs up anything on Legaci Carmichael they’ll find a single woman with no ties or attachments to anyone. I use a P.O. Box for my address, and no one in my field knows where I live except my editor who is also my best friend. And she ain’t saying a word.” I breathed slowly, tried to slow my heart rate down. “I’ve kept my real life private because people hate the media, journalists and the like. They think we pry into their lives, they don’t trust us, and if they could they’d like to hurt us. So in my slight paranoia I’ve kept my professional life and my personal life separate even though I don’t write those kinds of stories.” Then I looked at him and smirked. “So how about I use that paranoia to our advantage?”

He was quiet.

Deathly.

It unnerved me.

“And just how can you do that?”

“If you get me a house under the name Legaci Carmichael, doctor the paperwork to make it look like I’ve been living there since I started writing, if they do dig, the trail will take them there. To me. And not to my family.”

“Do you really think the government is that stupid?” He asked me that as if I should know better.

Of course I did.

Know better.

“No. But that’s only a surface dig. And that’s only if they have a reason to use their contacts to dig into my life. I won’t give them a reason to dig.”

I knew no one would be looking for any information on me. I knew that my family was in no real danger. But I had to make Ashton believe that the possibility of real danger was there. Had to make him think that I believed the possibility was there. And I had to do this so that he would help me.

So that he would help me to continue lying to him and to another man.

I’d sunk to a new low.

And still I knew I would go lower.

He looked at me. Just looked at me. It was all over his face that he didn’t like where the story was going.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit. But I’ll go along with it because you’ve been at your job for years, because you’re the best at your job, and because I trust that you know what you’re doing when it comes to your job.” He gripped my shoulders and held me tight. “I trust you, London. With our lives.”

Damn, damn, damn!

Why did he have to say that?

All of a sudden a sinking feeling hit me in the gut. This man was extending trust to me and I was betraying it before I even accepted the trust. I was already doing him wrong. How did I get here and why didn’t I just tell Asanti the truth and deal with the consequences?

Was I that much of a coward?

Yes
! I was.

And because I didn’t want to really deal with my cowardice I chose to continue lying.

“You can trust me, I promise I’ll do all that I can to keep my family safe.”

I meant
that
with every fiber of my being.

“Then first thing tomorrow, we’re going to work on getting you a house.”

Good.

He was giving me what I needed. Helping me to pull the wool over his eyes. Making sure that I could keep playing wife to another man and providing that other man with a home.

And all because he loved me. 

And trusted me.

What kind of monster had I become?