Read Lie to Me (Sexual Misconduct Volume III) Online
Authors: Bethany Bazile
Lie to Me (Sexual Misconduct Volume III)
Lie To Me
Sexual Misconduct
Volume Three
Bethany Bazile
Copyright © 2014 by Bethany Bazile
All rights reserved.
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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real peo
ple, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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About
Lie To Me
It was all too much. There was no way I could keep piling up these lies without it all tumbling down.
I was desperate to keep her, even if it meant I had to lie to her. But when everything unravels, the only thing that can save us is the
truth
in our love.
Table of Contents
Part Three
The house was unusually cold as I crept down the stairs. It was pitc
h dark, the glow of flashing blue-and-red lights outside the window illuminating my way. I paused at the stairway landing, my grip tightened on the handrail, and a chill spread, pebbling gooseflesh on my skin.
I stood there staring at the two silhouettes framed by the glass parti
tion in the door for several minutes. I was stuck, frozen in place. My parents were three hours late, and police officers were knocking at my door. I was old enough to know something tragic happened, and the preemptive fear gripped me.
“Do you think they left her with someone?” The question was slightly muffled
through the door.
“The nurse
who worked with her mom said they didn’t have any family around here. The girl has to be home,” a second voice replied.
One of them banged on the door more aggressively and shouted, “Avery.”
My heart pounded as my bare feet slid across the wood floor. When I swung the door open, both officers looked at me with an expression I’d never forget. The look I spent the rest of my life eluding.
Pity
.
I always thought my
parents were all I needed in this world. My mom’s parents passed before I was born, and my dad’s parents passed away within years of each other before I turned five, but we were happy.
My parents
were both only children, so that meant our small family had become miniscule. But it was all right because our love made it feel like we were a world full of loving people in one home.
But on this o
ne rare night, I decided to stay home, curled up with a book and leftovers from the night before instead of joining my parents at the movie. Before they left, I joked about them needing time alone—a date where their thirteen-year-old daughter wasn’t sitting in the middle.
I spent the night in my room
with calming rain pattering on the window and my favorite weathered novel as a companion. That night someone took them away from me. In a matter of hours, I was alone in the world and suddenly missed what I never thought I needed.
Family
. Anyone who could help me find my way out of the dark hole my life became.
I was angry and bitter
, but all that stemmed from the loneliness I felt. I spent nights wishing I’d gone along with them. Then we could still be together. I changed that night, and I don’t know who that girl would’ve grown up to be if she still had her parents. It took a lot of years to become who I am now—to let go of the anger and hate. Especially the hate I felt for the driver who took them from me. For years, I thought that person had paid for the drunken accident with
her
life. Turned out, I was dead wrong.
I
sped down the road toward my mother’s house. The night had stretched out as I watched Avery snuggled up against me in my bed. I hadn’t slept at all. I hadn’t even tried to.
In the last twenty-four hours
, everything started to fit—pieces of a scattered puzzle coming together in my scrambled mind. How my mom knew Avery. Why she was so nervous when she saw us together. Why she’d never mentioned Avery to me in all the years she knew her.
Things came together in my head,
but I still had questions—gaps in the scenario that needed filling. And my mother was the only person who could give me the answers I needed.
I pulled up to my childhood home, cut
off the engine, and looked upon the large, updated white colonial. It was passed down for centuries and given the name Pierce Manor by my great-great-grandfather. Living in that house, I’d always felt protected, maybe even overprotected, and Ian hated me for it.
Even as children
, our relationship had been strained. On the rare occasion when Ian would let me in, even the slightest bit, I was hopeful our relationship would change. But that never happened, and I gave up trying over a decade ago.
I couldn
’t understand why my parents always felt like they needed to protect me from things. Ian thought they loved me more, but I always felt they thought I was weaker, and that shit never sat right with me.
At this point, I was tired of it all.
I would always live with the consequences of what I’d done, but I wanted nothing more than to move on from it all and attempt to be happy.
I used my key to get into the house. I called out to my mother but got no answer as I walked through the foyer, down the hall
, and into the large kitchen. It still had the same rustic feel from when my grandparents used to live here, only with a modern flare.
The French doors leading to the back of the house were pushed open, so I walked through them and found my mother on the patio, facing her garden. She sat at a small wrought iron table that was set against the back of the house. I quietly took the seat across from her, leaned my elbows on the table, folded my hands, and gazed at her through narrowed eyes.
She frowned
, her smile fading, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to interpret my body language. “Good morning, Xander,” she said cautiously.
I nodded but
remained mute.
She tilted her head as she stared at me
. Then her frown deepened. “Have you eaten anything yet?”
I shook my head
, and she began to gather her tea cup and newspaper as she rose. “Mother…” I glanced up at her, but she continued to fuss with the items on the table. Then she scurried inside to make me a breakfast I never asked for.
She
’d obviously read my expression correctly and was attempting to avoid the conversation we really needed to have
.
She’d held back for weeks. No… years. This thing with Avery’s parents was no secret to her, and I needed her to answer some questions and figure out how tangled up we were in this web of deception.
I followed her into the kitchen, watching her pull
things out of the refrigerator. “Mother?”
She ignored
me so I walked up behind her and grasped her wrist as she reached for another item.
“Stop, Mom.” I spun her around and pushed the refrigerator door shut. “May I ask you a question?” She looked me in the eye but didn’t respond. I met her steady gaze. “May I?”
Her shoulders sagged as she resigned to face what needed to be
put out in the open. She nodded. Reluctantly.
“
Were you ever going to tell me about Avery’s parents? Were you ever going to tell me I…” It was hard to even say it out loud because it became so real once the words left my mouth.
She shook her head
vigorously. “I didn’t want you to find out. I didn’t want either of you to find out.”
I snorted.
“So Avery’s parents were never friends of yours?
”
I knew, but I wanted to hear it.
She shook her head again, this time slowly.
“How’d you find out? Your father had everything sealed.”
Not tight enough.
“Marcus.” My one-word answer was enough explanation for her. We both knew Marcus was very resourceful and had connections as strong as my da
d’
s. She nodded. “Are you going to tell me how you became part of Avery’s life?”
She sighed
, then took a seat at the table, waiting for me to join her. Once I sat, she pulled my hands into hers and held them. “After that night, I kept thinking about the people in that car and who they left behind. How their lives would be changed by the tragedy.”
I tried to pull my hand back
, but she held on tight. She was
n’
t the only one who was haunted by thoughts of the family that had been destroyed by me. At least sh
e’
d been strong enough to actually find out more about them.
“
I found out they had a little girl, and when I was told she was going into foster care… I just wanted to make sure she’d be okay. So I visited her, made up the family friend thing as an excuse to check up on her every now and then.”
“
Why didn’t you tell me?”
She frowned.
“You were destroyed by the whole thing. I couldn’t put that kind of guilt on your back. You wouldn’t even come home anymore. How was I supposed to tell you that you’d left a little girl orphaned?”
“
You don’t think I deserved that guilt?” I shook my head and yanked my hand away. “I deserved more than that. I should’ve taken responsibility for the whole thing.”
“
No, it was an accident.
”
She squeezed my hand, trying to get me to look her in the eyes,but I could
n’
t.
“
You were angry and hurt. You were
n’
t thinking clearly, Xander
.
”
“
You and Dad kept telling yourself it was an accident so you didn’t have to deal with how fucked up I am.” I stood, ran a hand through my hair,and looked down at her
.“
I never meant for anyone to die, but it wasn’t an accident because I was irresponsible. I was high, I was drunk, and I was angry.” I mashed a finger against my chest with each of those facts.
I
pressed my palms against the table and leaned in so she could look into my eyes and see who I really was. Not just what she wanted to see, but what she tried to conceal so others wouldn’t see. “It was a toxic mix that sent me spiraling, and everyone paid for my mistake but me.”
“
No, Xander.” She stood and cupped my face. “Don’t you see you’ve paid? No matter how much your name would’ve been dragged through the mud or how much time you would’ve spent in jail, it would never be as damaging as the pain you carry in here.” She tapped her finger over my heart.
“
It’s been twelve years and you still carry around that hurt. You can’t sleep, you’ve tried to erase it through drinking and women—and yes, I know about the women.” She raised an eyebrow because obviously my dad or Ian had told her about the string of women who passed through my life.
Her hand swept across my face.
“And now you’re in love with Avery… and this may take that away from you. So don’t tell me you haven’t paid.” She blinked, an unsettling look crossing her soft features. “Does she know?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know how to tell her.”
She dropped her hand
s away from my face and sat back down in a heavy heap. “I can’t tell you what to do. I’m guilty of lying to her too, and… she’s such a special girl—I mean woman—but to me she’ll always be that little redheaded, strong-spirited girl who pretended she wasn’t broken by what happened.”
I sat down and squeezed her hand.
“Thank you for being there for her, Mom. For trying to fix the mess I made.”
“
We all made a mess out of things, and maybe it’s time we fixed it. If you decide to come clean to her, I’ll be there for you no matter what happens.” She leaned in closer and smiled sadly. “I see the way she looks at you. She loves you, Xander. You have to believe it’s going to be enough to get you two through this.”
I nodded because the words sounded
great in theory, but I still couldn’t see this ending happily if the truth came out.