Grand Lies by JC Hawke
11
Nina
I pull my tattered blanket up over my head and press play on my iPod. It’s not mine. It’s my best friend, Lucy’s. She said she would be in trouble for giving it to me, but she thought it might drown out the shouting.
I call it shouting, but I think it’s something else. It sounds like a strangled cry, grunts and groans that seep through the thin walls of our damp house.
She tells me to stay in my room, not to come out until she comes to get me, but she never comes. And I never leave. Afraid that whatever is on the other side of the door will get me into trouble, or worse, take her away from me again. My mummy is all I have, and they already tried to take me once.
I squeeze my eyes shut as the banging starts. Rough groans and deep grunts flow past the music. Is she in pain? Should I help her?
A rush of cool liquid runs from my nose, pooling on the seam of my lips. I dab it with my finger finding blood.
Why is my nose bleeding…?
In a panic, I do something silly. Something I know I shouldn’t. I run for my mother. “Mummy, Mummy.” I push open her door, standing on the threshold unable to move, unable to look away. What is he doing to my mummy? His eyes find me first, a grim smile taking over his face as he stands behind her, hitting into her bottom.
“Get rid of the little fucker!” he shouts, making me flinch.
My mother’s eyes flare wide when she sees me. “Nina! Go now. What are you doing?”
Oh no, she’s mad at me.
“My nose.”
I wipe my nose with the back of my hand, but it comes away clean. I frown at the paleness of my bony hand. My eyes lift back to my mother’s, but before they can find hers, a strong, calloused fist connects with my face.
“Nina!” My mother’s voice rings out as everything fades to black.
“Nina!”
“Nina!”
“Nina!”
Mason?
* * *
Mase
Tortured cries haveme bolting upright in bed. I gave up on Nina letting me in after she locked me out, and her soft cries haunted me for hours after as I sat outside her door, waiting until I was sure she was asleep.
But now she is crying again, and it’s not the same cries as before. It’s a tormented shrill. She sounds in pain.
I jolt from the bed, my head working faster than my body, causing me to stumble to the floor in my haste. I run down the hall and try the handle, knowing it will be locked.
“Nina! Open the door!” I shout, slapping my hand on the wood. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Nothing.
“Nina!” I continue to rap my knuckles on the wood.
A broken wail seeps from the room, and the fear in her cries wrap around my throat, threatening to strangle me.
“What the fuck?” I pull on the handle, trying to force it open.
“Nina. Please just open the door!” I shout, punching the plaster surround. “Fuck!”
I let my head fall to the door, feeling at a loss as she continues to cry.
I hear a thud followed by a howl, a chilling, blood-curdling sound that has me taking two steps back. Panic fills me, feeling unhinged at my lack of control. I square my shoulders, lunging into the door and taking the lock clean off the wall. The plush carpet breaks my fall, but I barely touch the ground before I’m around the bed and kneeling at her feet.
She is curled into herself, arms wrapped protectively around her knees.
“Nina,” I rasp, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Nina, baby.”
I reach out to touch her, and her eyes snap to mine. Red-rimmed and wild, pure fear etched on her beautiful face. “Nina,” I frown. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Her body shakes uncontrollably, dripping in sweat. I try to grasp the blanket she’s holding from her hands, but she grips it tighter, flinching as I retract my hand.
What the fuck?
“The blood. So much blood,” she mutters, sounding crazed.
I start to search her body but fail to find any blood.
“Nina, you’re not bleeding. There is no blood. I’m here, it’s me, Mase,” I say softly, unsure as to what I should do.
She squeezes her eyes tight, opening and closing them until her wary eyes find me. “Mase?” she asks.
“Yes, I’m here.” I grab her, seizing the opportunity whilst she lets me. “Fucking hell.” My heart hammers in my chest as I sit on the floor, holding her tight. Her body is slick with sweat, her hair damp.
“Mase,” she cries, fisting my T-shirt and burrowing deeper into my chest. She breaks down in my arms.
For the first time I see her distinctively. No barrier, no wall, just raw, unfiltered pain—it’s what I wanted, right?
More than just her body.
“Nina, I’m going to get you in the shower. Is that okay?”
“Why? The blood?” She panics.
“No, no blood. You’re just really hot.”
“Okay.”
She looks up at me, my chest aching with the hurt in her eyes.
God, this is all my fault.
Why did I bring that shit up with her mum?
I lift her in my arms, carrying her to the en suite. I don’t put her down, walking in the shower with her locked tight in my arms. I reach in and turn on the spray, sitting with my back to the wall as the warm water runs over her.
She lies broken in my arms.
My beautiful broken Pixie.
“He hit me,” she whispers after a few minutes of silence.
“Who?” I demand, fighting to keep my voice steady.
“I don’t know. I never knew their names, but he hit me. At least, I think he did.”
Rage flits through my every orifice, every organ, every single nerve, burning with white-hot rage. I take a deep breath, knowing I can’t be mad right now, pushing it to the back of my mind until I can use it to unleash. And I will.
“Nina, it was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real. I’m here now.” I lift her chin, bringing her face to mine.
Her eyes lack the light that shone in them just hours ago.
“You hurt me.”
I close my eyes. Shit. “I’m so sorry, Nina,” I force out, fuming at myself. I’m such a prick. “I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Please leave me alone,” she states, eyes lost.
“You think I’d fucking leave you alone right now?”
“You leave, or I will.”
“Let me help you.” I try to hug her tighter, but she climbs from my lap, crawling to the other end of the shower.
“Please,” she begs. “I need to be on my own right now.”
Fuck. It takes everything inside me to stand and move my feet to the door, praying it’s the right thing to do.
I go back to my room, shedding my wet clothes from my body and launching them at the TV as my anger surfaces. Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I run my hands through my hair with absolutely no idea how to fix the fractured soul I can’t seem to figure out.
* * *
Nina
Climbing from the shower floor,I drag myself up and under the spray, washing my body clean, wishing I could erase the images in my head. Maybe I should have let Mason hold me, but for all the reasons I wanted him to, there were twice as many as to why I didn’t. He believes that to care is to know everything, all the things I would have told him if he had just asked. He is wrong. You can care for someone and not know their secrets, exactly how I did for him.
He took what he wanted without asking, which I could have got over—I was prepared to swallow my dignity and take his controlling nature in my stride. But that was before he trampled on my pride.
His words were the beginning of the end. He doesn’t get to hurt me, especially when he doesn’t even know me.
No amount of digging will expose the reality that lives with me.
Once I’m dried off, I wrap myself in a towel and leave the bathroom. I find Mason sitting on his bed, his head in his hands. His hair spiked out all over the place.
‘He means well, love, he’s not a bad bloke.’
I push Vinny’s voice from my head.
What I would give to go to him, to let him hold me like before, and to let him tell me it’s all okay.
It’s not okay.
His head comes up as I step into view, his sad eyes meeting mine, and a sick part of me silently pleads that he doesn’t let me go.
Don’t give up on me, Mase.
His eyes scan my towel-clad body. “Will you stay tonight? It’s late. I can take you home first thing.”
“I want to go home.”
“I know.” He drops his head again. “But I need you to stay.”
My twisted heart beats for his words, his need. “That’s not fair. Don’t put that on me.”
“Nina, please. I didn’t mean what I said, I just wanted you to let me in.”
“Let you in? Do you even hear yourself, Mason? You couldn’t even tell me where you were going last night. You took what you wanted and left me alone with your friends. Are you going to let me in? Tell me? Or should I have you looked up? Just take the information without any regard or thought for your feelings?”
The razor-sharp cut of his jaw flexes at my words, and he pushes his hair off his face as he stands, quickly closing the distance between us.
My heart lurches in my chest as I hold my breath, already afraid of what he will say.
Choose your words, Mason. Don’t get this wrong.
“I took what I wanted, and I make no apologies for that. You want to know where I was last night?” he asks, looking down his nose at me. “My father likes a drink. My sister, Scarlet, struggles to help him through what I can imagine is fucking hell. It’s no big secret, Nina.”
He throws his arms out wide, stepping away from me. “Anything else you want to know?”
“He’s an alcoholic too?” I mutter, surprised.
His features tighten, his face contorting into a frown. “What? No. My father is nothing like your mother.”
I blink slowly, dumbfounded as I step back from him. “You’re really fucking bad at this.”
He tips his head to the ceiling, blowing out a breath. “Nina, please. Can you just stay the night, we can talk about this tomorrow? Please, I’m fucking this up.”
“I’m going home. And I wouldn’t worry, there is nothing to fuck up.” I go to his en suite and find my clothes.
He’s hot on my heels, anger radiating from every inch of him. “Fucking fine! But I’m driving you.”
“I will call a taxi,” I shout back, searching for my dress. “Where are my things?”
He points to the door. “The wardrobe. I’m driving you home.”
He follows me into the ridiculously large walk-in wardrobe. It’s bigger than my entire living space. My annoyance at him has me seeing it all so differently. His money is such a turnoff.
I don’t bother to correct him, reaching up on my tiptoes to get my dress from the hanger. I spin with it, clutched in hand, only to come face-to-face with him.
There’s so much anger in his stare, but it’s not for me. Sitting in the lines of his handsome face, I see something else. Something I can’t pin down. Fear maybe? His own pain? I don’t know, but it irks me, because I don’t want to stay, and I don’t owe him a thing.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I can’t stay.”
“You can.”
Can I?
My heart feels like a baseball that’s been pummeled by so many swinging bats. My whole life I’ve fought to keep the stitching together, tending to the battered edges. Yet, Mason Lowell shows up, and I allow him to hit a home run straight out of the gate.
Why am I still here?
“Sleep in my bed. I refuse to leave you alone after...” His pity sears into my skin, making me want to claw at the flesh. “Sleep in my bed, please. I will stay in the spare room and will drop you home first thing. Just don’t leave.”
Pride is a funny thing. It’s restricting, suffocating, and at times has held me back from making life choices.
Always refusing to leave myself open to any more hits. Everything inside me tells me to go, and it’s not my pride or morals or stubbornness that stops me.
I’m at war with something else.
It’s the soul-deep pride in the blacks of his eyes that bleeds out between us.
‘Just don’t leave.’
And I won’t. My pride, my morals, my stubbornness—who knows, but I don’t leave. I let his pride suffocate me, restrict me, hold me back from making a choice that I may or may not regret.
* * *
Vinny arrives justafter seven a.m. to pick me up. I lay awake for the last three hours, waiting for a semi-acceptable time to call him, and his expression as I climb into the front seat of the Audi is the exact reason I couldn’t call a taxi. I look like a mess.
“Good morning, Nina,” he says chirpily.
“I’m so sorry, Vinny. I know it’s a Sunday.” I do up my seat belt and settle in as he pulls out onto the deserted road.
“You can call me anytime, you know that, love.”
“Thank you. I couldn’t get a taxi in this.” I gesture to the oversized joggers and T-shirt I stole from Mason’s wardrobe.
“I’ve seen worse.” He winks.
I smile, leaning my head back against the seat, glad to be away from the penthouse but sad to leave Mason behind.
Vinny sits quiet, tapping his finger on the steering wheel whilst listening to the radio. I try to think of anything but the doubts in my head.
“Do you have a family, Vinny? A wife?”
“No. I’m better, happier alone.” He smiles, and I can tell he is being genuine. He believes his words.
“I can relate to that,” I look up at him. “You don’t think one day though, if you found the right person?”
“It would take a saint to put up with me, Nina.”
“Because of your job? Having to rescue damsels in distress from raving lunatics at stupid hours of the day?”
“Exactly that,” he chuckles. “And then some.”
“Well, I think any woman would be lucky to have you. You’re a catch, you know,” I say, elbowing him in the arm.
His phone starts to ring throughout the car, and Mason’s name lights up the screen.
“I’m presuming he doesn’t know you left.” He eyes me, letting it ring for the third time.
I shake my head. “You can answer it.”
He accepts the call, his expression stony. “Mason.”
“Vinny.”
I close my eyes at the sound of his ragged breath. I picture him tearing through the penthouse, searching for me.
“I need Nina’s number. She took off this morning and Scars just called, the doctor is coming out to see Dad, I need to go to the estate.”
Guilt eats at me, and in the cold light of day I second-guess myself.
Did I overreact?
Is his dad okay?
I look to Vinny, swallowing hard.
I wish I didn’t leave.
“I will send the number now. Mason, calm down. Do you need me to drive you out?”
“No, I’m fine. Scar’s just worried; he hasn’t stopped vomiting. She thinks it may be alcohol poisoning.”
‘He’s nothing like your mother.’
I drop my head, staring at my lap. Vinny shouldn’t have to lie for me, and now I’m sat absorbing information that isn’t intended for me. It’s just as bad as what he did, looking me up.
“Okay, let me know if you need anything. Drive safe, Mason,” Vinny says calmly, then hangs up.
“I’m sorry I put this on you.”
“Send him your number, Nina,” he tells me, holding out the phone.
I don’t question it, typing out my number and hitting send. My phone rings moments later, and I stare at it, not wanting to answer.
“I won’t tell you what you should do,” Vinny starts.
“But?”
“I haven’t ever seen Mason act like this. He seems to care for you very much.” He shrugs as if it is that simple.
“I’m damaged goods, Vinny. I prefer to be alone.”
It’s what I know.
He nods, smiling smugly. “You don’t think one day though, if you found the right person?”
I glare at the side of his head as he throws my words right back at me.
I check my clutch for my keys, hoping I have spare clothes in the studio. I need to get lost for a while.
“Can you drop me at the studio, please, Vinny?”
* * *
Unexplainable calmness.It seeps into me and makes me forget about everything that exists outside of the room. I’ve only had my studio a little over a year, but the sense of belonging here, the sense that I’m not alone. It doesn’t make sense really, but I figure to have a place I’m so proud of, something I built on my own, having people who depend on me for a place to come and express themselves.
It gives me purpose.
I don’t get to dance. I didn’t have a change of clothes. Instead, I climb up on the piano and lay on my side, looking out on my purpose.
I won’t give up on it. On any of it.
* * *
Lucy picksme up from the studio midmorning to take me home, and I change quickly whilst she waits in the car. She knows something is up. I don’t go to the studio on a Sunday—especially not in men’s clothes. But she doesn’t question me, doesn’t ask anything until after lunch, laying on the garden swing seat we have spent many days of our childhood and teenage years chatting on.
“I think Mason’s dad is an alcoholic,” I eventually voice.
Lucy’s hand finds mine between us. “But that’s not what has you going to the studio on a Sunday morning?”
“No.” I roll my eyes at her perceptiveness. “He fucked it up, Luce. He is such an idiot.”
“He’s a male. It’s their thing.” She smiles.
“He had me looked up, looked into my mum and the studio.”
“What?” she asks, taken aback.
I nod my head. “I took it on the chin too. I promised myself I wouldn’t leave. We had the most incredible sex. God, the sex, Luce,” I groan, making her laugh. “He prepared a beautiful date, said all the right things when I freaked about the gifts he bought me, then when I needed space, and for him to shut up so I could process the whole him having me looked up, he crushed me. Told me I would run my studio into the ground if I didn’t stop helping Mum and pay back my loans.”
Tears well in my eyes as I prepare for what comes next.
“How did he get that much information?!”
I shrug. “I told him to stay out of my business, that he could have sex with me, but he’d get nothing more than my body.” Cringing at the memory, I close my eyes.
“Oh, Nina, that’s not you.”
“What?”
“Babe, you’ve known this man a week. You’re attached already, look at you. You could never have no-strings-attached sex. It’s why you have broken so many hearts over the years,” she explains, pulling me into a hug.
“He compared me to my mum. Told me the apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” I mumble into her neck.
She tuts, shaking her head. “God, Nina, he really is a dick.” She sighs. “But...”
“But?” I question, not liking that but at all.
“It’s not you. You’re not your mother, and he shouldn’t have said that. But. You painted the picture for him. He just hung it to dry.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am.” She squeezes me tight. “I promise you I am, just don’t go writing him off just yet, okay?” She fingers the bangle on my wrist. “Is this Cartier?”
I roll my eyes. “I have no idea.”
“As your best friend, it’s my job to step in and tell you when you don’t see situations in their true light, yet you’ve always made it so easy for me. You have a good head on your shoulders, and you always make the right decision. I envy your balls, babe. Trust your judgement, and don’t ever feel bad for letting your guard down.”
“You think I should give things a go with him?”
Does Mason even want to give things a go?
“It doesn’t matter what I think. You’ll do you anyway.”
* * *
Lucy dropsme home just after six, and I trudge up my steps feeling exhausted from the lack of sleep last night. I need sleep, and more importantly, to refocus myself on the week ahead. The showcase is coming up, and I intend to smash it with my girls.
Inside my apartment, I strip down and shower, then pull on the comfiest clothes I can find. I’m sitting on my sofa no more than twenty minutes later, eating a bowl of Coco Popswhen my phone rings. My mother’s name has my spoon falling into the chocolatey milk.
Why is she calling so soon? It’s been what—a week?
Every emotion I’ve been suppressing all day seems to come bubbling to the surface, and Mason’s interrogation as to why I pay my mum is at the forefront.
I have no answer as to why and as my phone continues to vibrate across my coffee table, I rage at myself, at my inability to let her go and not let anyone else in. Lucy is right, I could never hack no strings attached sex, and it’s all my mother’s fault.
I launch my phone at the wall watching it flash once more before the screen dies.
* * *
Mase
Selfish,that’s what I am. She doesn’t want to see me, but I need to see her.
I shouldn’t have left Scarlet alone on Friday night, and maybe my father wouldn’t have gotten so poorly if I’d stayed, but Lowerwick brings back too many bad memories for me. Every time I walk through the door, I think of my mother. Her open arms as I’d run for her, the smell of cookies baking in the oven, and the music she would play us.
Four years. It’s all I had, yet the memories are vivid, every single one right up to the day she died.
How Scarlet continues to stay there baffles me. As I said, I’m selfish.
I park the Bentley at the curb and make my way to Nina’s building, taking her steps two at a time, not bothering to think past the need to see her, to hold her.
She pulls open the door, her eyes red and blotchy. Shit. Was that because of me? Her shoulders drop when she sees it’s me, and I worry she will push me away.
She steps into me, her arms wrapping around my waist as her head nestles into my chest. Her body visibly relaxes, growing heavier in my arms. The weight of the world settling between us.
I drop my nose to her hair, breathing her in.
Unexplainable calmness. It seeps into me, a deep sense of belonging only she seems to bring. She pulls me into her apartment, bypassing the tiny living space and walking me through to a small double bedroom. She climbs on the bed, pulling me with her, her head dipping under my arm when I lift it so she can lay herself across my chest. And just like that, with not a single word spoken we take from each other, healing the parts we aren’t ready to bare.
