CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

Livvy

 

"Gracias," I murmured, stepping from the mule-drawn cart I'd been riding in next to the old man for the past several hours.

"Con mucho gusto!" he sang happily, lifting the reins and spurring the animals on as I stood, watching him go. A lump sat heavily in my chest, but I forced myself to swallow it, to lift my feet and begin walking toward Palomino.

That morning, I'd gathered my clothes, my eyes lingering hungrily on Thomas as he lay sleeping soundly in the bed where we'd made love all night. He'd been on his stomach, the sheet barely covering the muscled globes of his ass, his arms hugging the pillow under his head so his smooth back was all planes and ridges. He was gorgeous, a male god, lying in the moonlight like that, and it was how I wanted to remember him. I had held back the tears that threatened as I'd opened the door as quietly as I could and scooted between the crack, shutting it just as silently behind me. If I made the slightest noise and Thomas didn't wake, it was only because he'd exerted so much energy the night before and gotten so little sleep. My body felt heavy with exhaustion, and achy from all the times Thomas had been inside me. A part of me gloried in the feminine sensation of having been repeatedly filled, thoroughly pleasured, wonderfully used. But the other part cringed at the reminder each time I moved, that the night before was the only one I would get. I hadn't been able to bear the thought of waking in the morning and having him look me in the eye as he said as much. So I'd taken the coward's way out. I would always have that night. Not the bleakness of goodbye, but the joyful recollection.

But I was going to be brave in one aspect at least—I was going to find Alec and face him. I was too close not to and frankly, I had nowhere else to go. I knew, however, the purpose of facing him was for me, and only me. The truth that I didn't love Alec enough to spend my life with him had been skating at the edges of my awareness for a long time. Alec's disappearance had caused me to put aside those feelings of doubt as my own need to rescue him had risen inside, casting out anything else. That truth had finally made itself fully known last night as I'd given myself wholly and completely to another man—not just my body, but my heart. I'd shared myself in a way I'd never shared myself before, but with a man who lived anywhere and everywhere, a man who wasn't available to me, but a man I was in love with all the same.

I still wanted to know why Alec had left, and I still cared about him enough to help him if he needed it. If he'd made mistakes and panicked, I would forgive him. If he was hurt, I would help him. And then we'd go our separate ways. Tears gathered at the backs of my eyes, dreams I'd held so dear, drifting away and out of reach. I let them go, knowing that to attempt to gather them back would be settling for less. I hadn't known there was more before this trip, but now I did. Because of Thomas, now I did.

It will change everything, he'd said. Did he think I didn't know that? Did he think I didn't understand how much more painful a goodbye was going to be after a night like the one we'd shared? I'd known, and I'd been willing anyway. More than willing.

I'd taken my passport out of his pocket and enough money to get me to Palomino. From there, I'd have to wing it. At least the weather was beautifully warm if I had to sleep on the beach until communication and travel were fully restored. I groaned internally. Please don't let me have to sleep on the beach.

Thankfully, the woman in the lobby had spoken some broken English, and I'd been able to ask if there was a way to hitch a ride to Palomino. I hadn't understood the thinning of her lips and the quick glance toward the stairs that led to the room where Thomas still slept, but it didn't matter. She'd taken my arm and led me outside where an old man was hitching up a wagon filled with produce and had spoken to him in Spanish. "He will take you most of the way there," she'd said, and so I'd ridden in the bumpy cart, my body sore and my heart aching as the hotel where I'd spent the most glorious night of my life disappeared in the distance and the sun crested the horizon.

I followed the signs to Palomino, walking along the beach where I could, the smell of the ocean calming, the sun warm upon my back. I wondered what Thomas had done when he'd woken to find me gone. Had he been upset? Panicked? Or had he realized that me leaving was for the best? I wasn't sure of his feelings for me, but surely he'd rather avoid a goodbye. Surely he'd rather avoid the awkward discussion about how his job prevented him from making a commitment to any woman. And I wanted more. I wanted the commitment, the family. That hadn't changed. The only thing that had changed was I no longer wanted the man who'd once promised to give it to me. At least that was going to make it easier to confront Alec. Whatever he told me, I knew I was going to be fine. The empty hollow inside me was for Thomas.

It was mid-afternoon when I arrived in Palomino. It looked much like the town we'd stayed in the night before. The damage had been severe, but people were picking up the pieces, cleanup was obviously underway despite the lack of outside assistance, and just like in the other town, people sat outside buildings, selling the things they still had to sell.

I attempted to speak to a couple of women on the street, but when I spoke in English, they looked at me blankly and shook their heads. I walked farther into town, trying again with a woman sweeping the sidewalk in front of a red building. "Excuse me, do you speak English?"

The woman stopped sweeping, glancing up, a look of confusion coming into her eyes. "We have spoken before. How may I help you?"

I frowned. "I . . . what?" I shook my head. Perhaps the woman had misspoken because she wasn't fluent in English. "Ah, I'm looking for someone. A, ah, blond man. Tall. He isn't from here."

The woman frowned then laughed in what looked like confusion. "You are confused? You are staying at the orange cottage up there." She pointed up a narrow street behind where she was standing.

What was going on? The woman gave me an uneasy glance and went back to her sweeping. I stood for a moment, debating what to ask her, but she'd given me a location—more than I'd expected—so I mumbled a thank you and headed toward the street where she'd said I'd find an orange cottage.

The cottage was easily found, the only one on the block that was a bright, tangerine color. I stood under a palm tree across the street, a bloom of fear rising inside me. Something wasn't right. I suddenly had a terrible feeling, and my instincts told me to run away, to hide.

But where? I had nowhere to go. You're being silly, Livvy. You came all this way for this moment. And now you're filled with anxiety because you're finally going to face it. I had barely slept the night before. Surely my extreme emotions were a result of that as well. Deep breath, you can do this.

Gathering all of my courage, I walked across the narrow street and knocked on the door of the cottage. A bird squawked somewhere nearby, the sound of the ocean was a dull roar in the background, and my heart slammed against my ribs. I heard footsteps and the door opened, air whooshing from my mouth as I exhaled the breath I'd been holding.

Alec stood there. Tall, fit, more handsome than I'd remembered him. He was tan, his hair blonder, his blue eyes bright and clear in his sun-darkened face. For a moment, he simply stared at me, then his face broke into a smile, his white teeth flashing. "We've been waiting for you, Livvy," he said, smiling bigger. We?

I blinked, shock making me feel weak. My hand found the doorframe, and I used it to steady me. "Alec?" I whispered. This seemed all wrong. Why was he smiling? Why didn't he seem surprised to see me? Confusion gripped me, and I gave my head a shake.

Alec craned his neck, looking around me at the empty street beyond, frowning before he gripped my arm, pulling me gently inside. "Livvy, come in. You look like you're about to faint." I stumbled inside, and he closed the door behind me. The cottage was open and bright, but sort of shabby too. The furniture looked old and there was the faint scent of mildew in the air. But the back wall featured a sliding glass door that I could see led straight down a slope to the white sand beach and the shining blue sea beyond, a gorgeous panorama.

I stopped, pulling my arm free of Alec's grip. "What's going on, Alec?"

Alec thinned his lips, shaking his head, his expression sympathetic. "Ah, Livvy, poor, stupid Livvy."

I blinked, flinched, turned my head to look out the window for a second before looking back to Alec. "You left me."

"Well, to be fair, I was never really with you."

"What?"

There was a drink sitting on the table, condensation on the glass, and Alec picked it up, taking a sip. He held it out to me in question. "Cocktail?"

"No." I shook my head. "What's happening? The last time I talked to you, you were flying to Miami on business."

Alec took another sip of his drink, sighed, and then placed it on the table. He opened his mouth to speak when there was movement outside the sliding glass door. Two men were walking toward the cottage from the beach, one running to keep up with the other who was walking with a fast, powerful stride. Thomas. I sucked in a breath. Oh God, he must have been right behind me. But who was the other shorter, heavier, Colombian man? I stared as they approached, Alec turning and watching as well. I stood, frozen, my throat dry, my head buzzing.

"There's my business partner." Alec slid the door open, greeting the Colombian man with a handshake and then opening the door wider for Thomas to enter. "You've gotta be Brody. Nice work, man." He laughed as Thomas—Brody?—entered the room, his eyes ghosting over me quickly, his expression blank. What was happening?

"Drink?" Alec asked the man I'd known as Thomas for the past week.

"No," he said, his voice wooden.

The Colombian man stared at me for a moment. He was dressed in Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt, a gun clearly visible in the waistband of his shorts. "Whoa." He laughed. "That's wild," he said, speaking in English, though his accent was strong. I frowned, shaking my head, but he didn't bother to explain, and instead headed toward the kitchen. "Got some food in here?" he called. No one answered him, but I heard what I thought sounded like a refrigerator opening. I turned to Thomas. "Brody? What is happening here?" I practically cried.

"Well," Alec said, stretching his neck to the side, cracking it, "I was planning on marrying you and using all that beautiful money of yours to buy into a very lucrative business here in Colombia. Sadly"—he took another drink—"I flew here for the week to tie up some business odds and ends before the wedding, and got trapped—and almost killed I might add—by a fucking tsunami." He threw the remainder of his drink back.

He glanced at Thomas. "Luckily, my business partner Luis in there"—he nodded his head toward the kitchen where the sounds of dishes clinking could be heard—"has a badass for a cousin, and was able to get the word to him that we were hiring out for a job. You, brought to me." He raised his glass. "Job well done, Brody, my man."

Thomas-Brody didn't respond but I noticed a tiny tic in his jaw.

Alec's business partner was Thomas's cousin? But Thomas had said . . .

My heart had dropped to my feet, and my head whirled. I stared at the man who'd led me here, the man I'd thought I knew, but didn't. Who cared what he'd said? He . . . he'd been hired by Alec? He'd lied to me all this time. Made me think I was the one who hired him, when it was really Alec and Thomas’s cousin? I didn't understand. Thomas-Brody stared back at me, no emotion in his expression, no attempt at an explanation. I felt like I was choking. Dying.

"Why, Alec?" I asked, my voice thick, croaky. "If our marriage was going to be a sham, why bring me here?"

"Because I still need your money." I hadn't looked away from Thomas, and I saw the minute narrowing of his eyes. "We all need your money, isn't that right, Brody, my boy?"

Thomas's eyes snapped to Alec, but he didn't respond. All? My face felt hot, flushed, and I'd started shaking. I felt like I was in some horrible nightmare I couldn't wake from. When Thomas looked back at me, I couldn't disguise the raw hurt welling in my chest. "Why?" I asked brokenly.

Thomas just stared at me, his shoulder resting casually against the wall, not saying a word. Another crack of agony ripped through my heart. How could he be staring so coldly at me that way after . . . everything? Alec was looking back and forth between the two of us. He laughed. "Ah, this is rich. Did you bang her, too?"

Thomas's eyes snapped to Alec's, and he finally broke his silence. "Watch it," he said and his voice sounded like steel.

Alec laughed again, raising his hands. "All right, all right. You're right, no need to disrespect our big payday. Even if she was a cold lay compared to her sister."

My sister?

Cold lay?

I was going to be sick.

"What are you doing in there, Harper?"

I heard someone's footsteps from what must be a bedroom, and then the door opened and a woman walked out. I let out a gasp, stumbling backward and grasping a nearby table so I wouldn't fall. The woman looked exactly like me. She was me. No. No. My sister. My twin sister?

The little girl from my hazy memories. She hadn't been younger as I'd thought. She'd been my identical twin. My family.

"How?" I breathed. I didn't know what to say, what to ask, was completely lost, in shock.

My sister—my sister!—raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms and smiling—though coldly—at me, a sinister tilt of her full lips. My lips. Everything . . . everything was the same, and I couldn't stop staring at her, my heart thundering in my ears, blood rushing to my extremities. "Hello, Livvy." She looked at Alec. "Pour me a drink, babe. I'm gonna need one."

"Get it yourself."

She shot him a nasty look. "Asshole."

Alec's jaw ticked in annoyance. "Excuse me if I'm a bit agitated. It's been a long fucking two months in this hovel."

I stared, disbelieving, as she poured a drink from a tall table by the door, taking a long sip as she turned. My head felt foggy, my limbs heavy. I was still having trouble believing she really existed. "I remember you," I whispered. "I . . . took care of you."

Harper shrugged. "I remember you, too. Bossy little thing."

I flinched. "I was four. We were four." No, she hadn't been younger. Not younger, no . . . just . . . weaker.

She shrugged again, gripping the drink Alec handed her and taking a long sip. "Did you know where I was while you lived the high-life with Paul and Linda Barton? I was living in squalor with a fat-ass named Gloria and her worthless husband, Jerry."

Thomas's cousin came back into the room, biting into a sandwich as he looked around at all of us. I shook my head. "I . . . didn't know. I would have . . ." What would I have done? Something. I would have tried to do something, at least once I was old enough. I looked at the two people in front of me—the people I'd wrapped dreams around, one as a distant longing, and one my hope of the future, of family, of love. I felt flushed, hot. Sick.

"We could start now," I said to Harper. "We're sisters . . ." I began, the hope in my voice pathetic even to my own ears.

Harper laughed. "I don't think so, sister dear. But you will be leaving us with a very nice life." She looked at me and then smirked, moving her gaze to Alec.

"How did you find out about me?" I asked, shaking my head as if in denial of this whole situation. But it was real. The red-hot agony of the knife in my heart told me it was very real.

"It was the funniest thing. I saw you one day, just driving down the street. It was such a shock. I couldn't believe it was real. This girl who looked just like me, only she was driving this sleek BMW. I thought I was in the Twilight Zone, you know? I followed you, in my piece-of-shit Toyota, mind you, to this fucking mansion. You got out and it was like you were me only upgraded about a thousand percent." She glanced at Alec. "I told my boyfriend about you. His business wasn't doing well." She shrugged. "He'd been looking for a way to buy into a huge business opportunity here in Colombia and there you were: as if God himself had sent you to us. An answer to all our prayers, right baby?" Alec grinned back at her.

Tears streaked down my face. I looked at Thomas, and though his expression was still distant, something I couldn't name had broken in his eyes. All this time . . . all the things I shared with him. He'd already known. I was such a fool. A stupid, stupid fool.

"The grocery store where we met—"

"Setup," Alec said smoothly. I nodded, a jerky movement, swiping the tears off my cheeks. He shook his head, sighing. "You were so easy, Livvy. So easy."

"Who are you?"

He tilted his head for a second as if trying to understand my question. "Alec Sanderson. Not an orphan. My parents live in the Midwest. A librarian and an accountant—two losers who aspire to nothing more than a white picket fence and a good game of pinochle on Thursday nights." He paused, a cruel tilting of his lips. "Simpletons. Like you."

I shook my head, my mouth dry with disbelief. "So what," I said blankly, "you were going to marry me, have me killed, and H-Harper would take my place?"

"Something like that," Alec said.

"Then you were trapped in Colombia, and you needed me brought to you?"

"Exactly.”

“All your business trips—”

“God, yes. You’re so gullible. Had to get away from you as often as I could.”

He glanced at Harper. "Turned out better anyway. People . . . well, they go missing in Colombia all the time. Especially in the aftermath of a natural disaster." He tsked and grinned. "Only, you won't go missing. You'll rescue me, and we'll return to the States and get married."

He and Harper would marry and then they'd use all my parents’ money for whatever they wanted, and no one would be the wiser.

"People will know she's not me," I said blankly, knowing it wasn't true.

Alec shook his head, looking sad. He sighed. "Who, Livvy? Those sorority sisters you talk to once a month? That gaggle of silicone-filled drunks? Your family? Oh right, you have no family. That friend of yours with about eight million kids who's always mumbling to herself about soccer schedules? Oh, she'll notice." He laughed. "Poor, lonely Livvy."

Chrissy—the one with eight million kids—might actually notice, but I didn't say anything. I felt sick, yet numb.

None of this was real, it couldn't be.

Alec raised his glass to Harper. "All right, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm about all the fuck talked out. Should we get this show on the road?" He nodded to Harper who was behind me, and before I questioned his meaning, something slammed down on my head.

I felt myself falling, there was a scuffle over my shoulder, something loud cracked in my ear, and I hit the floor with a jolting thud. I groaned, turning my head, the world swimming all around me. Harper was lying next to me on the floor, a pool of blood spreading toward me. "No," I sobbed, but it only came out as a whisper. I reached for her, my sister, the other half of me. Her eyes were open and she blinked, her expression filled with pain, confusion. She reached for me and our hands clasped right before my world went dark.