Knot a Liar (Knotted Up Book 1) (13 page)

“I killed the bee, Jodi. The bee can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Thank you. The bee was after me. Meeee. Beeee. Ceeee. Deeee. Efeeee. Geeee. No, that’s not right. Geeee is wrong! What comes next, Sam?”

Looking around I notice the outside of my apartment door. When did Sam get here? How am I here?

“I’ll teach you the alphabet another day, sweetheart. Just stand there and let me search for the keys.”

The alpha bets? Alpha? Wolf? There’s a wolf here? My mate? What? Crap, I’m really drunk. “Sam? Is that you?” When the hell did I get home? Wasn’t I just at Grace?

Stumbling a bit into the apartment, Sam picks me up and takes me to the bedroom where I take a short nap. Walking in the bedroom, Sam holds out something to me. “Yes, Jodi. We’re going to bed. You’re in pj’s, your teeth is brushed, already. Just drink this and sleep.”

I take the thing and inspect it. “This is a cup.”

“Yes, Jodi, that is a cup. Good grasp on the obvious. Now drink from the cup.”

I down the putrid smelling liquid in one gulp, gagging as the liquid makes its way down. “You’re my husband. I should get to sleep with you. I want to sleep with you.”

“That’s what’s going to happen. Finish this and we’ll go to sleep.”

Giggling, I slap Sam’s arm before finishing the cup. “No, silly,” I pull Sam closer, almost falling on the bed, and whisper in his ear. “I mean sex. I want sex with you.”

Sam unlatches me from his person, puts the cup on the bedside table and straightens his body to look down at me. Releasing a loaded sigh, Sam pulls away the comforter and covers me in bed. With a final brush of his fingers across my cheek, Sam turns off the lights and gets in on his side of the bed. Feeling too far from him, I snuggle closer, as Sam does the same and tucks me in his arms.

“Another day, Jodi. Another day and soon. Goodnight, sweetheart.” Sam kisses my forehead.

Burying my nose in his bare chest, I inhale the only scent that still grounds me. “Goodnight, Sam.”

I roll over in the bed and moan before stilling. I lay waiting, expecting the pounding that accompanies a hangover to follow.

After about five minutes, I realize its complete absence must mean I slept much longer that I thought. The emergence of dawn has long passed as the sun seems fairly high in the sky through the windows.

“Good morning, wife or should I say ‘Best Drunk Ever’.”

I open my eyes to see Sam’s face inches from mine before he leans in for a kiss. I groan and sit up, moving the pillows around to support my back. “What did I do? I embarrassed myself, didn’t I?”

Sam, dressed in black slacks, a navy blue button down looks dressed and ready for work. He hands me a cup of coffee, sits on the bed and says nodding, “Yes. Even a three year old knows the alphabet and what a cup looks like. The best part I must say though is you trying to convince me you have a penis when you left to use the bathroom.”

Moving the half empty cup to the night stand, I stand and pause mid–stretch. Heat slowly creeps up from my neck to inflame my cheeks. “What?! I don’t remember that. I remember nothing!”

Walking over to the closet serves two purposes: one, to find something to wear to work and two to hide my utter mortification. How wasted was I? A penis? Really, Jodi?

“Well, I was fixing the hangover cure, when you called me into the bathroom saying you couldn’t find your penis and that I should help you look for it, because you wanted to pee. You were spinning on all fours on the bathroom floor on a penis search for a couple minutes, before I could convince you that you don’t have one. I have to say, if it was found, we’d be having a very different conversation this morning.”

Barely looking through the closet, I decide black slacks and plain grey button up blouse will do. “Ah, crap! That’s it. I’m not drinking ever again. The brandy and whisky is what put me over.”

A broad smile covers Sam’s face, lighting his eyes, revealing the mischievous twinkle. “No, please. By all means continue. You’re quite entertaining when drunk.”

With narrowed eyes and scrunched up brows, I say, “I’m not a performing monkey, Sam! Thank you for whatever you made me drink last night by the way.”

A small smile finds his lips. “You’re welcome. That cure has done wonders for me and rescued me on too many occasions.” Sam gets up and walks over to the closet to envelope me in a hug from behind, resting his chin on top of my head. “I made breakfast. I popped the waffles from the freezer in the microwave, with eggs. The pancakes weren’t turning out well. We need a pancake maker or something because the batter was running all over, messing up everything.”

I turn around in his arms and look Sam in the eyes. “Thank you, Sam. For taking care of me.”

Sam cups my left cheek in one hand while playing in my hair with the other. “I signed some papers that said I have to, so thank them as well.”

I move out of his arms and gather clothes for a shower. Leaving my things in the bathroom, I walk over to Sam to kiss his cheek before returning for the shower.

Running late for work has major disadvantages. Disadvantages such as getting dressed between the kitchen and bedroom. However, such disadvantages become advantage when being late prevents Sam from seeing my face each time I take a mouthful of over salted eggs.

If only I had time to be in the kitchen then I could save myself from the excessive saliva needed each time, having to swallow what tastes like a teaspoon of salt.

The gaging, a heaving stomach and uncomfortable swallow leaves a soreness in my throat.

However, each time I stand over the toilet, something in me refuses to spit it out and I instead swallow each time knowing he went out of his way to cook for me.

One last forkful, Jodi. Even telling myself that, my body instinctively flinches away from the eggs, recoiling from what is damaging to my health.

Bringing a hand up to cover my mouth, I inhale, remove the hand and plunge the fork in one last time.

I tell Sam that I prefer my eggs on the fresh side and it gives a stronger flavour. Grinning, he nods and accepts my response before laying a kiss on my forehead. It astounds me that that excuse worked and yet nothing goes by that he doesn’t notice.

****

Heading into work, for the first time this week and it not being a Monday throws me off balance for a few hours. At about eleven, I regain my bearings and start on a presentation I have on Friday, while catching up on what I missed for the couple days.

At midday Grace sends me a text:

Good news, tonight is phase one of the plan. P is going to a company function and will be out for a few hours. Best time is tonight.

Meeting time?

Alex said 9 is best. Rendezvous point is one block from target at the corner Walgreens.

What should I tell Sam? He’ll be home tonight.

Girl’s night 2.0?

Alright, sweetie. c u later.

Thinking over what excuse I’ll give to Sam, I head to lunch, grabbing a burger and milkshake. After building enough courage, I text Sam.

I’m heading over Alex tonight for Girl’s night 2.0. No drinking though, so don’t expect a monkey coming back to you.

Is everything alright? No drinking can’t be a good sign and don’t bash the monkey.

Everything is good. I’m heading over after work so you’re on your own for dinner.

np. Chinese? And do you want me to take you?

Yes, extra cookies and no, Grace is swinging by for me.

Alright, wife. Later.

Bye, husband.

I again plunge myself in work again in aims of accomplishing something concrete before the day has ended. Instead of working on the brochures for the Mansurs Group, I choose to attack the new business catalogues and presentation for the Azales company.

Just as I’m finished saving the final edits of the presentation for Friday the office phone rings.

“Jodi Pennington, Copywrit– “

“Aren’t you ready? I’m outside and seven o’clock is gone already.”

“Give me a few minutes to close down the computer and leave.”

“Okey-doke. Alex is here too so move that ass.”

Passing by the security desk, the night guard turns to me. “See you tomorrow, Andrew.”

He gives a simple wave as the telephone is strapped to his ears.

Climbing into the car with Grace and Alex, I can’t help but feel nervous about the situation and our impending actions along with the consequences and /or punishmments to come with those actions.

“Stop being such a scaredy cat, Jodi.”

“I’m not scared, more nervous than anything else.” And wondering about the size of the bed hell is preparing for me right now.

“Everything will be fine Jodi. We get in, retrieve the items, and get out. Grace has the key –don’t ask, trust me, you don’t want to know how the key is here.”

“Okay, let’s get this over with. You have the costumes, right Grace.”

“This is a heist, Jodi. What good is a heist is you aren’t dressed the part.”

“Just checking.”

Normally, I love the silhouettes created by moonlight. Nature at her best. A cool summer night warmed and illuminated by a full moon, is a perfect night indeed. Trees bathed in a nocturnal aura glow charcoal to black instead of the vibrant greens during the day.

However, trying to be inconspicuous with the full, pale disk lighting and highlighting each movement and shift in our bodies’ sets me on edge even more. The occasional cloud cover gives a halo of light, almost warning against our actions.

Nevertheless, Grace and Alex decide that we should still go ahead with our plans. So after discretely– as discrete as one can manage with a full moon– entering the house, we set out to work, each person manning their assigned stations. Grace, on lookout duty and Alex and me searching through every available cavity in the house starting at the bottom.

Sifting through the kitchen drawers, a sudden attack of nerves collapse on me. “This is breaking and entering. Oh crap, I’m to jail. I’m going to be a prison bitch.”

“Says who? My cousin is doing time, we’ll have protection.”

“I’ll take Prison Bitch for $100.”

“Suit yourself darling. But Maureen told me if I ever ended up there, I’ll have nothing to worry about. She practically runs the joint.”

“Do you think Sam would come for those conjugal visits?”

“Girl, if you’re both free and you aren’t getting that ass tapped now, don’t count on it in the slammer.”

In a muted scream, Alex groans and says, “Sam you two just shut up?! We don’t have forever.”

I respond with a lifted eyebrow. “Now you’re nervous? I’ve been trying to you guys that forever!”

Alex glares at me and stalks off to the living room.

From the front door Grace half shouts, “Found anything yet?”

“Not yet. I was hoping she’d make this easy on us and go for the whole ‘hiding in plain sight’ bit.” I say, scrunching up my nose and huffing.

“We need to check upstairs in the bedroom.”

Savannah groans. “So I’m stuck on peephole duty, while you guys have fun?”

I glare at her. “Savannah, you’re welcome to go searching through the underwear drawer if that sounds like fun to you. Maybe make a snow angel out of them.”

“Never mind, I’m good.”

Heading upstairs, Alex groans and mutters. “I need to get more mature friends.”

And with one last groan, silence finally falls upon the house.

Suddenly, light seeps into the living room from a single corner. A hand moves from the lamp. Returning to a lap seated in a chair shadowed by the tree eclipsing the moonlight from the window.

“Alright, that’s enough. While you three are mildly entertaining, care to share who you are, before I press send?”

Savannah, Alex and I look at each other before Grace says “We.”

Alex says, “Are.”

“So dead.” We finish together.

[
13
]

Thirteen Schemes to Jail

I really need to stop declaring these things, but now I’m without a doubt, neck on the block certain that nothing can compare to this. Today is surely the worst day of my life.

The declaration at this point is neither here nor there; an irrelevant appendage. I mean, come on, this situation should speak for itself. Today echoes loud with crystal clarity.

How bitchy can Karma really be to be keep trapping me in these situations? Doesn’t she have anything else to do, no one else to taunt at this point? This chick needs a dang job if her sole purpose in life is to make me miserable.

Come on! I’m doing good here!

Put aside the fact that my two best friends and I are now hardened criminals in the eyes of the law.

Yes, even a blind monkey-bat would charge us for breaking and entering.

Yes, that same monkey-bat would charge us with burglary as our intention was to retrieve private property by unlawful means.

Yes, yes, bribery, blackmail and intimidation would probably be thrown in as I’m almost positive that that’s how Grace had acquired the keys to the house.

Throw in cyber stalking on my part, the discussion of Patricia’s murder last night, the fraud of a marriage I’m in, prostitution for when Grace unknowingly solicited a gigolo six months ago, public nudity for when she ran from Paolo, piracy for those movie Alex won’t stop downloading and watching online and this has now become a laundry list of criminal activities.

Oh, but we shan’t forget forgery and identity theft on top of those for that time in junior year in college when I pretended to be the dean so that Alex’s cousin wouldn’t be in trouble with her parents and I’m now looking at about 80 years in prison.

And I still haven’t gotten laid in so long. Sam has to come for those conjugal visits now. I’d probably die from a lack of orgasm before anything else with my luck.

I’ll have to suck it up and become Maureen’s possession now.

But besides all that, I’m doing good here!

Come on, Karma, Destiny, Fate or whatever else your name is. Give me a break.

The lady moves over to the couch, standing in front of the coffee table before inching her body down to a seated position. Grace, Alex and I stand still, no doubt their hearts thumping as wildly as mine.

With a flip of the wrist, the phones leaves her right hand to land in the left before returning to the right again. “So what should I do, hit send or no?”

“No!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Savannah and I turn to look at Alex whose eyes scurries from our glare. I stand in shocked silence. Yes? Alex said ‘Yes’? That goody-two-shoes just doesn’t know when to quit.

“Even with Maureen, I don’t think prison will be good to me and I still have a few papers to grade from that book report the students handed in yesterday. Maybe if we turn ourselves in the police will go easy on us?” Alex finishes that statement with a shrug.

The atmosphere becomes thick with the fog of danger and Alex’s pitiful hope.

Savannah shakes her head moving closer to Alex at the bottom of the stairs. “No, please don’t. We want no trouble.”

Silence.

Distorting silence to colour each passing thought. That’s all the three of us suffer through for about 5 minutes. Each mind waiting, anticipating and plotting their reactions.

The uncertainness of the outcome of this situation only reveals that we were so focused on the rewards but not the perils of the crime.

The lady stands, then shifts to turn on another floor lamp near a love seat. “So, I know I’m beautiful and all but I’m not… gay.” She shifts from one foot to the other. “Stop looking at me like that and tell me why you are here. Did my husband send you for me? Sent you guys to search for evidence of my infidelity to go along with his gut suspicions?” The mocking tone from the bob-haired blond, along with the fidgeting with her pyjama top, contradicts whatever statement she was going for.

Pointing at us, Alex begins in a conversational tone. “I’m sorry, the name’s Alex. That’s Grace and Jodi.” The nerves seep in nonetheless. “Who are you and who is your husband? Because if it is Sam, so help me God, Jodi, he is not living beyond tonight.”

The lady raises a speculative eyebrow. “Sam?”

Savannah inclines her head to me and walks over to and Alex. “Her husband.”

“And you are looking for what in my house, exactly? I could have the police here in two minutes. My husband is Kamal Jamison and he won’t take kindly to someone breaking and entering my home. Well… my escape pad… which is now a place of torment.”

“Tracey?”

Mesmerized, I stand looking at the woman who left Max heartbroken. Even with her features distorted in a frown, Tracey is beautiful, although her stocky build wouldn’t be something I guessed Max was swept away by. Never would I have put these two together. In my mind, images of them together resemble the letter ‘b’. Am I the only one to think that way?

Clutching even harder unto the phone, she shifts to a defensive stance. Pity, none of the three of us could take her in a fight. “How’d you know my name? Are you guys stalking me?”

I raise my hands in to show surrender. “No! No, I know Max. He’s my brother-in-law. He told me about what Patricia did.”

“Max told you?”

“Well, it took some time but we got the truth out of him.”

Alex inclines her head to Tracey. “This is the girl Patricia caught Max with?”

“Oh honey, why did you stoop that low? Max?”

“Savannah! Oh God, I’ll surely meet death now.” Alex buries her face in her hands.

“Never mind those two. Have you tried talking to Patricia into giving you the photos?”

Tracey scoffs. “As if that woman would do anything that doesn’t benefit her. I’m sorry, but how do you know Patricia?”

“I went to high school with her, but we all went to college together.”

“Forgive me if I’m a little weary of you still. Why are you here? What were you searching for?”

“The photos. Patricia plans to use them on billboards if Max doesn’t do her bidding.”

“I know. Patricia told me the night she caught us. I’ve searched this house top to bottom. Even hired a professional cleaning team to do a fourth sweep. The pictures aren’t here.”

“So you think a vault or mailbox or something?”

“I don’t know but I can’t figure out where they would be. They’re not on her laptop either, so I’m guessing the photos are on a thumb drive or something. I don’t know anymore.”

Alex, with much hesitation, sits beside Tracey. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you do it? Cheat on your husband I mean.”

Tracey waves away Alex’s hesitation as if the question isn’t rude and intrusive on her privacy. “No, no, that’s a logical question. Kamal and I were done– or I thought we were– when I met Max. I had just moved in here about a week or two. He was going around with girls and I decided I wouldn’t stand for it any longer.”

“Two years is a long time to allow someone to make you feel less than. We were in a legal separation and heading for divorce. In my mind that was a given, a done deal. But here I am, almost a year later, still stuck in a marriage I hate and don’t want. I can’t risk Kamal finding those photos or Patricia sending them to him in a divorce. He’ll get half my assets and since I have no concrete evidence of his infidelity, I’m stuck.”

“Oh. That’s…”

“Yeah. I know. I’ll be free once those pictures are gone though, so I’m just biding my time.”

An atmosphere of defeat pervades the living room centring on the two couches we all occupied.

“I question whether this was the right thing for you three to do. Come on, breaking and entering? That’s a serious crime.”

“Patricia has been wreaking havoc on my life for as long as I know her. She threatened my husband as well. I guess this was my way of fighting back. If I’m being honest though, from conception this plan was doomed for failure.”

A raised eyebrow from Alex meets my stare. “And the others you have concocted with Sam weren’t?”

“I’m not saying those were the smartest. I’m simply saying this one was stupid.”

Alex shakes her head then props her cheek with a fist looking at the three of us. “So, what now?”

Rubbing her hands together, Grace quirks an eyebrow and smiles. “Now we go on a porn photo hunt.”

After a heavy sigh Tracey says, “But where?”

At that question a moment of doubt passes in the air before a thought pops into my head.

“If I know Patricia –and trust me I do, maybe even too well –I’d bet anything that those photos are at her office.”

Leaning in, Alex shuffles closer. “At the office? How do you figure that?”

“Patricia likes control. She likes knowing all variables and keeping things in check. She won’t let those photos be too far from her. At the office, Patricia has immediate access to them and that’s how I know if they aren’t here, the photos are at the office.”

A small, delighted smile Graces Tracey’s lips. “You’re like the ‘Patricia Whisperer’.”

“Pssh, please. Get these two within a mile of each other and all that logic and common sense flies out the window. Just wait and see. Grace and I have been subject to their combined idiocy for years.”

Tracey tilts her head looking at me. “Why? What started the rivalry?”

“Patricia didn’t want to come… mumble, mumble, mumble.”

Savannah, choking on her laugh says, “We can’t hear you.”

“Patricia didn’t want to come over and play house with me when she moved into the neighbourhood. She said I was too childish. Patricia, at 11 years old, thought herself too mature. I wanted to wring her neck.”

Pointing in my direction, Alex says, “See? Total idiocy. Who the hell carries a grudge for 17 years? And over something so stupid and juvenile at that?”

Huffing, I disregard Alex’s comment. “Anyway, back to the matter at hand. We need to get into her office and get those photos. This will rescue not only yours, but Max and Sam’s behinds as well.”

“Maybe I can help with that. Jodi, do you mind talking to Max and letting him know I need to see him, please. There’s something important he should know.”

“How about we move this over to my place. Sam should be home by now.”

Alex turns her body to me and softens her voice. “Home? So you’re really living with him?”

“Well, yes. We are married.” Isn’t that logical and expected? “I’ll call Sam and ask him to get Max there by the time we arrive, okay?”

“Okay, let me change and I’ll meet you outside in five minutes.”

Ten minutes later we are all piling into Grace’s car, heading to my house. The car is mostly quiet at first. However, a thought that keeps bouncing around my head causes me to break the silence.

“Why were you sitting in the dark?”

Alex turns around from the passenger seat to look at Tracey. “Better question is: weren’t you scared when you heard us coming in? That was breaking and entering for Pete’s sake!”

“One: I was in the dark because somehow lately it brings me comfort. Two: I decided if you were dangerous, I could sneak out without either of you noticing me and then call Kamal. But of course, you three proved to be as dangerous as a single ant trying to wage war against an elephant.”

“We should be insulted,” Grace murmurs.

“I’m not. I’m just happy not to be heading to prison right now. Can you imagine what Patricia would say about that?”

Alex shuffles again to face the windscreen. “Honestly, Jodi, who cares what that witch would say?”

Turning the corner and arriving at my apartment, I say, “That’s Max’s car. He got here fast.”

We climb out of the car and start heading to the second story, when Alex mutters, “Let’s put this disastrous night to an end.”

After closing the door, Max is the first one to greet us. “Hey Grace, Jodi. Who is this lovely lady?” Hand extended in Alex’s direction for a handshake, Max pastes on a sly, calculating grin on his face.

Somehow, Tracey’s presence was made known to Max even though, she didn’t move, no one made any indication she was there and no sounds escaped her. But when Max’s head popped up midway in shaking Alex’s hand, the smile vanished. Instead, a look that I have never seen in his features crosses Max’s face. Desire, tenderness?