Bound by Lies: Bound #1 (Adult Romantic Suspence) (24 page)

I look around me. The area is quiet and the houses along the
other side of the street look dark. I’m not even sure where to get to the main
road from here. My spirits lift a little when I spot a phone booth like a
beacon up the street. But who can I call? It’s probably past midnight now. I
can only think of one person who would help me and would definitely still be up
at this hour.

I pick up the phone and ask the operator to connect me via
collect-call to Dixie’s bar. There is silence on the other end as the operator
places me on hold. I lean against the glass of the booth because I barely have
enough energy to stand. Please accept the call, Dixie, please.

“Hello?” Dixie’s voice crackles through the earpiece. Thank
God. My heart floods with relief.

“Dixie, it’s me. I need your help.”

In my semi-conscious state I hear a car pull up by my head.
I roll my face towards the noise and open my eyes with a groan. I see a large
black tire followed by the cherry red door panels of a car. I hear a door open.

“Honey? Honey?” Dixie’s voice fills my ears. If I had any
energy left I would cry. “Oh my Lord.” I hear her shoes clopping around towards
me. I groan again and sit up. My head spins.

Dixie falls down at my side and wraps the huge towel she was
carrying around me. She holds me there in a tight hug and I let my head fall
onto her shoulder. “Thank you, Dixie,” I whisper.

She pulls back, holding me by the shoulder, her eyes glossy
with concern, “What happened to you, honey?”

“I went for a swim.”

She snorts. “No kiddin’.” She watches me for a moment,
obviously waiting to see if I will elaborate. But I don’t. “Come on. Let’s get
you somewhere dry and warm.”

I nod and let her help me to my feet.

In the Jeep we are silent, but Dixie keeps glancing over at
me out of the corner of her eye. I brace myself for what I know is coming, and
it does: “You gonna tell me what kinda trouble you’re in?”

I swallow hard. Dixie deserves some sort of explanation but…
what do I tell her without putting her in danger, too? “I… can’t. I’m sorry.”

Dixie lets out a long huff. “You know, you can’t go about
life just relying on your own self. People care about you and want to help.”

I close my eyes and lean my head against the window. I’m so
tired. I don’t want to fight. And I’ve run out of lies. “I’m not keeping it
from you ‘cause I want to be some kind of martyr. If I thought you could help I
would tell you, but you can’t… no one can.”

“Try me.”

“Please, Dix, just let it go. I don’t want to put you in any
kind of danger.”

“Shit. It’s bad, isn’t it?”

I nod.

Dixie is quiet the rest of the drive back to her apartment
above the bar. It’s past one, so the bar is closed, but Jeff is waiting up for
us upstairs, pacing in the living room when I enter. He gives me a worried look
and a quick hug when he sees me.

“You look like a drowned rat.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He smiles a little. “You make a cute drowned rat, though.”

I don’t have the energy to punch him, so I settle for
sticking out my tongue.

“Alright, buster,” Dixie says coming in behind me. “Why
don’t you heat up some leftover dinner for her and I’ll get her settled.” Jeff
salutes her and walks into another room, I assume the kitchen.

“I can’t stay, Dix.”

“Why the hell not?” She places her hands on her hips as she
turns to face me.

“I just need to shower then I have to leave.”

She stares at me and I can see that brain of hers whirring.
Finally she says, “You’re not coming back, are you?”

I squeeze my eyes shut against the prickle of tears. No, I’m
not coming back. I can’t. I shake my head. I feel her hand on my shoulder and I
open my eyes.

“You said your car is gone. How you gonna get out of here?”

“I’ll find a used car lot tomorrow. Buy something cheap.”

“Well ain’t nothing gonna be open till the morning, honey.
So you might as well stay till then, okay? You need at least a few hours’
sleep.”

“She can sleep in my bed with me,” Jeff yells from the
kitchen.

“You’ll be sleeping on the street if you don’t watch
yourself, Jeff,” Dixie yells back. No more noise comes from the kitchen. Dix
turns back to me. “The couch is plenty comfy, or I’m sure Jeff won’t mind if
you took his bed and he can take the couch for the night.”

“I’m not going to kick anyone out of their bed.”

“So couch it is.” Dixie nods with a smug smile. I exhale
when I realize how I was just manipulated into staying, just as she wanted.
“You got enough money to keep you going?”

Shit. Most of my cash is in my apartment and the rest is under
that slip of carpet in my car. But I can’t go back to my apartment. It’s too
risky. Cade knows where that is. So… I have nothing. No cash. No clothes.
Nothing. I swallow.

“Don’t I owe you your last paycheck?” Dixie says. “From
memory it’s about $300. You have a shower and I’ll get that money for you.”

Dixie turns away, but I grab at her and envelop her in a hug
before she can get the money. My throat is all stuck together, so I can’t speak
to say thank you. I hope she can feel it in my hug. She pats my arm before
pointing me in the direction of her bathroom.

I feel a hundred times better after a shower and some
leftover stew. Dixie lends me some of her old clothes: faded grey tracksuit
bottoms that are loose on my hips and legs and a bright pink off-the-shoulder
workout shirt that shows off too much stomach. Dix also gives me an old
backpack to use.

Jeff has class in the morning, so he has gone back to bed.
It’s just Dixie and me in the living room. It’s a mishmash of different
furniture and colors, but it feels cozy and homey. She gives me a spare pillow
and blanket for the couch.

“I’ll probably be gone before you wake up,” I say. I can
barely look at her.

“Shit, hon. I’m gonna miss you. So will the boys.”

“I’ll miss you, too. When you tell Jeff and Robert that I’ve
gone – maybe in a few days – tell them I said goodbye?”

“I will. Here,” she shoves an envelope in my hand. Inside, I
count over $600.

I frown. “Dix, I thought you said my paycheck was only
$300.”

Dixie pouts. “Call the rest of it a goodbye present.”

“Dixie, I can’t accept−”

“Oh, hush now.” She waves a manicured hand at me. “Yes, you
can. I own that damn bar, I can do what I want. Oh, honey…” She hugs me tight
and it squeezes a tear out of me.

“Thank you, Dix, for everything,” I say into her red curls
that smell like apple shampoo. “I won’t forget this.”

She pulls back and her eyes are misty. She waves her fingers
under her face. “Oh, girl, you’re making my makeup run. You just promise that
you’ll look me up if you’re ever in town.”

I know I won’t come back. She knows that I won’t come back
either. But I nod and she smiles and I give her one last hug.

I leave the curtains of Dixie’s living room open so that the
dawn light will wake me. It’s almost two o’clock now, only a few hours from
dawn. I fall into a restless sleep.

The smell of musk and wood smoke penetrates my dreams. It
makes my stomach twist and my chest ache and pulls me from my sleep. As I climb
back up towards consciousness the smell, instead of fading, just gets stronger.
I realize just as my eyes snap open that he’s here. The dark figure crouched
over me slams a hand down over my mouth before I can scream. I try to bite his
hand, but I bite instead on cloth. He presses a rag firmly over my mouth and
nose. I feel the fibers sticking to my lips and teeth.

“Shh, kitten. We don’t want to wake them up, do we?”

He has soaked the rag in something that smells pungent and
sickly-sweet. I try to hold my breath as I struggle under his weight, until my
lungs feel like they’re going to burst. I inhale, only as little as I can
stand. I can’t to fight him off. He’s too strong. My toes and fingers start
feeling numb.

I am forced to take another breath. Caden’s figure blurs in
front of me and the shushing noise he is making starts to sound broken.
Fractured.

Somebody, please, help me.

Everything fades to blackness.

I drift up to the surface of consciousness. My head is
spinning. Dizzy. My mouth is dry.

Where am I?

The smell of wood smoke and musk reminds me of my last few
seconds of consciousness. Caden. The bastard.

I can sense him. He’s here with me, wherever here is. I keep
my eyes closed and let my other senses come alive. I can feel the mattress
under the length of my body. The sheets are soft under my fingers. And there’s
a pillow under my head. I can hear the distant hush of a car passing. Behind my
lids I can see a light source coming from my left.

I focus my attention on my wrists and my ankles.
Surprisingly, neither of them are restrained. Obviously, he doesn’t view any
escape attempts of mine as any real threat. I’ll show the bastard.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now.” His voice rolls
over me, the timbre making my skin alight.

Shit. I could lay still, keep pretending?

I sigh internally. I’m going to have to face Caden sooner or
later. Slowly, I open my eyes. The light source is the bedside lamp. I glance
around and recognize this room immediately. I am lying on Caden’s bed. I sit up
and push myself back against the board. I see him sitting in an armchair that
he has turned to face the bed, his feet up on the end of the bed, a gun in his
hand lying across his lap.

“I’m sorry I had to knock you out. I didn’t think you would
come with me if I just knocked on the door and asked.” His voice is calm as if
he is apologizing for being a few minutes late. I shudder. He used to use that
voice to turn me on. But now…

I should be scared. But I am sick of scared. I am all out of
scared.

“You son of a bitch,” I growl out. “You mother-fucking son of
a bitch.”

He scowls. “Language. There are ladies present.”

“If you hurt Jeff or Dix−”

“I didn’t touch them. I just came for you.”

“How did you find me?”

“I know that there are less than a handful of people in this
city that you could call if you were desperate. And after you escaped the docks
I knew you were desperate. You didn’t think I would try their places looking
for you?”

I’m an idiot. A fool. “I didn’t think you had seen me.”

“I didn’t see your face, but I knew it was you running away.
At first I thought, no, it couldn’t be you. I didn’t think you would be so
fucking stupid as to follow me there. You don’t know what you’ve done, kitten.
You don’t know what you’ve fucking done. They know about you now. They know
that you’re here in this city. It’s only a matter of time before…” He starts
muttering into one of his palms.

“Stupid? Stupid! No, I’m stupid for ever trusting you, you
asshole,” I scream back. I hope to God that one of the neighbors hears me and
calls the cops.

Caden’s face snaps up. “You know you can trust me.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know who you are,” I spit out. “Caden
Thaine? Or Harper Lexington?”

He flinches. “Don’t call me that.”

“Harper Lexington,” I draw the name out and take pleasure in
watching him wince at each syllable.

“How much do you know about Harper?”

“I know
everything
. I know it’s your real name.”

“Harper is dead. I’m Caden. But if you know about Harper
then you understand why I am working for the Tyrells.”

No, I don’t fucking understand. “And what about this, huh?”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I yank open the bedside drawer and
grab the manila folder still inside from the other morning. I throw the folder
at him and the photos of me flutter around us like frightened birds. “I know
about this, you sick bastard. I know you were following me before we even met.”

He snatches his legs off the bed and sits up. “You broke
into my apartment?” Then he lets out a curt laugh, but there is nothing
humorous about his tone. “You have more balls than I thought. So much for
trust.”

“Trust? Trust! Don’t fucking talk to me about trust. You
used me.”

His face pales. “Kitten…”

My heart squeezes. How dare he use my nickname for me now.
How dare he soil it. I hate it. It used to symbolize his affection, but now
every memory of him calling me that is a sharp knife to my gut, another
betrayal.

“Don’t call me kitten. You don’t get to call me kitten
anymore. Tell me,
Harper
… was it all part of the job? The kisses, the
sex, the part where you seduced me into giving you what was left of my heart?
Was it part of your job to fuck with my life as well?”

“I never meant for it to go this far.”

A single hot tear escapes my eye and it sears my skin as it
rolls down my cheek. He cringes when he sees it and looks away. I take this
opportunity to glance down at his gun. His fingers grip it lightly, the barrel
pointed towards me. I’m too far away to have a chance at surprising him and
getting the gun off him.

“I knew I shouldn’t have ever come near you,” he whispers,
almost to himself. “It just made everything… harder.”

I understand now. Caden’s assignment from Jacob must have been
to find me and kill me. He found me, but why didn’t he kill me?

“Why did you approach me then? Why didn’t you just do what
you needed to do, Caden? It would have been kinder.”

Yes, it would have been kinder for him to just kill me than
to shred up my heart and my soul like this. Or perhaps this was Jacob’s point.
To destroy me first. First my heart, then my soul, and then – and only then –
would Caden be allowed to destroy my body, perhaps torture me first before
ending my life. Or maybe Jacob was the one who would torture me after Caden
brought me in?

I can see the conflict going on inside him through the
cracks in his façade. Whoever Caden Thaine really is, he isn’t heartless. I can
see this clearly in the crinkle at the corner of his eyes. I can see it in the
dejected slump of his arm holding his gun. However much Caden has bound me to
him, however much he has affected me, I have affected him, too.

There are only two ways I am leaving this place: of my own
free will – which means Caden would have to die or let me go – or in a body
bag. I am not being taken to Jacob. Never. I shiver internally at the thought.

If I keep Caden talking, I have a chance to get out alive.

“Why, Caden?”

“I… I just wanted to trail you first. To make sure you were
who I thought you were. You hide yourself well, you know. No bank accounts, no
phone contracts, no gym contracts. Your nursing training meant that you could
patch yourself up for most things, so you could stay out of hospitals. You live
alone and your apartment rentals are paid in cash, which include your
utilities, all your jobs are cash in hand...”

“So how did you find me?”

“It doesn’t matter who you are, when you go on the run
you’ll try to keep some connection of your old life – family, friends, habits.
I started with your grandparents.”

I flush. “If you hurt them−”

Caden had the decency to look horrified. “No. I would never.
I befriended them, became their gardener and handyman, giving me access to
their house.” And their trust. Sick bastard. “I intercepted your cards. Robert
Frost. I narrowed down this city by the postmarks on the cards.”

“How? I always sent them from cities other than the one I
was in.”

“I know. But humans are pattern-makers. Even when we try to
be random, we end up making patterns. You didn’t realize you were doing it, but
you were sending the cards from cities within a two hour drive from the city
you were living in. When I pinned all the postmarks on a map it made a cluster
and your city was in the center.”

Shit. I never thought of this. I thought I was being so
clever making sure I was sending the cards from different places.

“And when you narrowed down the city?”

“People on the run will usually keep their habits to retain
something comforting from their old life. I knew from your file that you went
to kickboxing regularly. I began to hang out at the kickboxing clubs and gyms
that provided casual memberships in this city. And I knew there were only a
limited number of places you could work as unskilled labor. Mainly bars, clubs.
And even fewer of them who take on employees cash in hand. So I scoped out
these places. It was only a matter of time before I found you. A few times you
moved before I found you and I had to start again. But I got lucky this time,
with this city.”

“Persistent,” I say bitterly.

“I had time.”

“How long had you been looking?”

“Almost three years.”

My heart feels brittle with hopeless realization. Jacob
ordered this man to search for me for three years. My life was a ticking time
bomb. It was only a matter of time before it all caught up with me and the
detonator exploded. Like right now. Even if I got away from Caden I would never
be safe. Jacob would never stop looking.

I say nothing, leaving a silence for him to fill.

He continues, “I knew for sure you were who I thought you
were the night that we met and I got a chance to see your face close up. You
can change your hair and harden your body but… you can’t mask those eyes.”

He puts his palms to his face, even the one holding his gun
and rubs his eyes. Caden hasn’t slept at all, I realize. I can use this to my
advantage. He slumps back and relaxes his arm out to the side so his hand
holding the gun hangs over the arm of the chair. I plant my feet on the carpet
as I sit on the edge of the bed and prepare myself.

He continues, “At first I just wanted to see what you knew.
I never meant to get involved.”

I lunge at him. My right elbow aims for his neck while my
left elbow drops down on his arm. I hear him drop the gun and it thuds on the
floor beside us. The force of my lunge knocks the chair back and we start to
topple. As we go down, his arm raises up to push my forearm away from him.

We grapple on the floor for the gun, scrambling over the
chair and onto the floor. I almost have it. I reach for it. But his limbs are
longer than mine and he manages to push the gun just out of reach of my hand
before he curls his fingers around the handle. It’s over. I lost. I lay back
limp on the floor. I am tired of fighting and losing. With Jacob. With Caden.

“Why the bloody hell did you do that?” he mutters as he
pulls himself up from the floor.

He steps closer so that he is towering over me. I realize I
am still on the floor. Like this is an execution. I won’t die on the floor like
a dog. I won’t. I push myself to sitting. I try to push up more, but my legs
are shaking so much they collapse and I fall to my knees. I don’t know how I am
going to stand, but I’m going to stand. God dammit, if I am going to die, I’m
going to die standing.

For some odd reason he puts out his hand as if to help me
up. Maybe he has seen the defiance in my eyes and my refusal to die on my
knees. I slap his hand out of the way. I don’t want his fucking help. I grab at
the bed and use it to pull myself to my feet. Somehow I stand on my own. I
don’t know how because my legs feel like jelly. I think I am running on pure
defiant, stubborn determination. I shove my chin in the air and clench my jaw
to try to stop my teeth from chattering. I’m not ready to die.

“Go on,” I hiss through my teeth, “kill me then. Get it over
with. Just fucking do it.”

His face contorts. “Kill you? I’m not going to kill you,
kitten.”

“Well, you might as well because I am not letting you take
me to Jacob. I’ll die before that happens.”

His face twists. “Why the fuck would I take you to Jacob
after I just saved you from him?”

“Saved me from him?”

“I knew you were hiding in that crate behind all those bags
of coffee. I told them that the warehouse was empty so you had a chance of
getting away.”

“What?”

Then his face breaks open with a look of realization. “You
think… you said you knew everything. You don’t know
everything
.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Kitten, I’m a cop. I’ve been working undercover to lure out
that piece of shit since he went into hiding. When you said you knew
everything, I thought you knew this.”

My world shifts. It feels like someone has turned a box
inside me upside down and everything is rattling and rolling as it finds its
new equilibrium. Like that little toy with small metal balls and holes where
you have to tilt the game board around until all the balls fall in the holes
with a click, click.

Then there is a silence while everything settles.

He’s a cop.

Undercover.

And it all makes sense again. His double identity, his
working with the Tyrells. And me. He was following me to see whether I still
had any contact with Jacob. To see whether I would lead him to Jacob.

Which still means I was a job. He was using me to get to
Jacob. I was bait. Look at me, wriggling so willingly on his hook. I flush. Am
I so starved for love that I would give my heart away to the first man who gave
me any real attention?

Apparently so.

I think to the picture of the little girl in his wallet. She
is his life outside of this mess. When he finishes this job he gets to go back
to his life, but I can’t. I can never leave. This mess is my life. This is my
life and there is only one way out for me, it seems.

“I need to get you out of here and somewhere safe,” he
continues. “You can’t stay in this city, not now that Jacob’s men are all on
the lookout for you.”

“Hah! If you bring me in, it’s only a matter of time before
Jacob gets to me. No cell is ever going to keep him out. Excuse me if I don’t
exactly
trust
cops.”

He makes an exasperated noise. “I’m not bringing you in. My
position undercover hasn’t been compromised and I’ve only just managed to get
Jacob’s men to trust me, so I’m not risking taking you to a police station.
I’ll take you to a safehouse somewhere.”