Secrets and Lies 5 (The Ferro Family) (2 page)

“I like that about you.” The words tumble out thoughtlessly. “You should lead with that instead of the lines you usually use.”

He’s not listening to me anymore. His gaze is unfocused and locked on the side of my face. He’s breathing hard like he’s trying to control himself. My skin prickles and I resist the urge to lean into him.

“You like me,” he says, with the confidence of a middle schooler. He seems shocked, almost incredulous someone could genuinely like him. What’s that about?

“Yeah, I guess I do. I like that you always try and make me laugh. I know you piss me off to distract me from whatever’s bothering me. You use misdirection, slight of hand—but with words—to make me forget how messed up my life’s become. Your over the top actions make everything about you. I can’t thank you enough for that. You've walked into some painful conversations and caught me at my lowest lows. You didn’t judge. You didn’t try to fix it. You listened. It’s weird. You project this tough guy image like you want me to think you don’t care.”

“I don’t,” he says casually. “I only care about me.”

“Whatever.” I shake my head slightly, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and spewing what I’m thinking. “Maybe you started out that way, or maybe it’s all an act, I don’t know, but it’s obvious you care about your family, and you’d kill someone before letting anything happen to Beth.”

“They’re family.”

“I’m not.”

He glances over at me, his gaze lingering, wistful. “No, you’re not.”

“Yet here you are, spending your weekend on a burnt-out school bus fighting off campus cops with ego issues.”

“Kerry, I’m not some white knight.” His tone is sharp, but I don’t think he means to be.

"I disagree." I don’t get it. “Why hide it?”

“Why hide what?” He bristles and I can tell I kicked the sleeping ogre in the nuts. “You don’t know me, so don’t act like you do. You have no idea what I’ve been through or why I do anything. You’re so frustratingly—” he growls and then jumps up and tries to pace the aisle, but the raccoon hisses at him.

Josh pauses, mid-rant, and stands with his back to me. I rise and pad over to where he stands, placing my hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man. You can’t convince me you’re not.”

He turns slowly, and every bit of him is seething, ready to fly into a rage. “You don’t know me, Kerry.”

“Then tell me what you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” His teeth are gritted, and I wonder how his emotions can swing so far so fast. There’s something here right below the surface. It’s raw and still weeping, just like me, but covered with a layer of jokes and jabs.

“Then say it. Tell me and stop pussyfooting around this secret!”

He mashes his lips together and shakes his head. “You know what? It’s not that easy. You’ll hear it and assume a bunch of shit. I don’t have time for this, Kerry. Stopping was a fucking mistake. Deal with your shit by yourself." Josh steps forward like he’s going to mow me down. I’m blocking the only exit. Looking past me, he snarls, “Move.”

“No.”

Josh lowers his gaze and focuses on my face. “I’m not that guy, Kerry.”

“Then tell me who you are.”

“Actions should be enough.”

“They are! They’re screaming that you’re terrified I'll find out whatever you're hiding and never speak to you again. Just tell me what it is before I find out from someone else.” He stands there so long, with no response, that I’m about to give up and step aside.

“You’ll run, and you won’t look back.” He breathes deeply, letting the air fill his lungs completely before exhaling.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. It’s what everyone does when they find out. It’s the reason I can’t be friends with your friends. It’s the reason for everything.” He watches me while stepping nearer, pressing his body into mine.

“Josh…”

Desperation mingles with something softer. “Kiss me," he whispers. "I promised Beth I wouldn’t go after you. I’m not. One kiss and I'll reveal my story. This will be over and Beth won’t have to worry about anything between us ever again. You’ll run away screaming, any trust you granted gone. I knew you were like a dream that ended too soon.” His lashes lower as he leans nearer, inches from my face. “Kiss me.”

My heart is pounding and my head is spinning. Does he really think I’ll walk away? After all the shit I’ve been through? He was there for me, time after time. I shouldn’t kiss him, I promised Beth, but he seems so hurt. I can’t let him think he doesn’t matter. That’s what this is meant to be. Proof I won’t flake out and run away.

Heat rises from within my belly and travels up my chest, spreading to my arms, and flushing my face. I can’t say he doesn’t make me feel anything, because he does. I set aside all my mental issues and decide to be there for him. I place my hands on his cheeks and rise up on my toes, sweeping my lips against his. The jolt of passion is there again, lurking beneath the surface, threatening to scorch us if we don’t keep it reigned in.

His lips are soft and careful. I almost wish he wasn’t. It’s like he’s repressing what he wants to do, how he really wants to kiss me and is settling for the G-rated version. I pull back and keep his cheeks cupped in my hands. “That was nice, and you’re anything but nice, so let's try that again—and stop being so goddamn proper. That’s not you. You won’t scare me, Josh.”

His green gaze meets mine. Fear and trust mingle in his eyes, and I can’t tell which will win. When he lowers his lashes, I think he’s going to step away, but he doesn’t. Josh mirrors my stance and places his hands on my cheeks. When he lowers his lips to mine, the chaste kiss is gone, and I feel him—his excitement, his hope, his desire. Josh crushes his mouth to mine, tangling his tongue with mine, kissing me deep while pinning me to the side of the seat. His hands slip off my face and trail down the sides of my body as the kiss deepens. I gasp, breaking the lip lock, as he pushes me back onto the seat. I slip down and find myself staring up at him, breathless, wanting more.

The mindless fuck, the sex for fun, the banging to forget everything would have been great with him. He seems to sense my thoughts and shakes his head. “That’s all I’m good for now.” Josh lifts himself off of me and holds out a hand to help me up. I place my palm in his, and he pulls me up.

My lips are still tingling, and I’m not ready to let him leave, but he’s walking away. Soon he’ll be down the stairs and in the wind. “Hey, wait.”

He shakes his head. “Nope, this isn’t real. I know what comes next, so don’t feel bad about it.”

My face scrunches up as I stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Google me. Everything is there in black and white. Please don’t take it out on Beth, okay. I’ll stay away from now on. You won’t have to ask me.” Josh is down the steps and on the street, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, walking away like we’ll never speak again.

I
’m
homeless and an emotional wreck, so I don’t Google him as soon as he leaves. I’m worried, but the only thing I know for certain is that I can’t lose Josh—not today. Ignorance is more emotionally stable.

“Back to the plan,” I say to myself and start the bus. I want to do this alone, without anyone else, but I can’t go anywhere looking like this. I need to borrow a shower. I have two options. Beg Beth for help or drive to a campsite and pay for a cold, panicked shower in a public restroom while hoping no random hobo decides he needs a pet college girl.

No contest.

I pull out my phone and text Beth.

The screen on my phone lights up with Beth’s face as it rings. I knew she’d be all over this plan.

B
eth’s dorm
room is still sporting the hippie vibe despite her attempt to redefine herself. She’s wearing a catsuit with an oversized belt and looks a little like she fell off the page of a comic book. She’s tugging on my hair, blowing it out, and ranting, “They keep asking me weird questions and then giggling. Have you ever seen a grown man giggle? It’s some freaky shit.”

I’m staring at a patchwork of photographs of a sunset. The four by six-inch pictures cover an entire wall. Some of them are all one color. Some have only sand, sun, or sky. It’s a mosaic made from Polaroids.

“Beth, you’re wearing a body stocking. What’d you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know. Definitely not man-giggles. Freaky fuckers.”

“What’d your brothers think of your outfit?”

She shrugs. “They haven’t seen it yet.”

“Oh God! You’re hiding it from them?” That’s got bad idea written all over it.

“Not hiding it, more like biding my time. If I like this look, I want to decide for myself before they say anything. I just need to breathe, you know?” She tugs a brush through another length of my hair, pulling it hard, and forcing hot air from the blow-dryer over it until it’s dry, shiny, and straight.

“I know. So, do you want to rock this look a little longer?”

“Yeah! Maybe make it more my own thing. Add some jewelry, combat boots, and a big ass belt. I don’t know. I thought about putting a sheer skirt on the bottom. Do you know what I’m talking about? They were popular a few years back, totally sheer and flowing."

I smile because I know exactly what she’s talking about. It’s another hippie-style skirt. The girl loves peasant clothes. “Yeah, you should do it. Add some of that crazy-ass makeup they’re wearing on TV right now, and you’ll look totally kickass.”

As she tugs and blows out another section of hair, she frowns. “Yeah, but here’s the problem—while this whole outfit is totally kickass—it looks completely stupid shoved in a classroom chair. It’s like inviting Batman to an English class.”

“Yeah, but everyone would know he was awesome, no one would fuck with him, and he could date anyone he wanted. That doesn’t sound too bad to me.” She turns off the dryer midsentence, and I scream the last word at her.

“That’s because you’re having a quarter life crisis. So, what’s the plan with all this stuff, Miss Hill? You really think you can waltz into Ferro’s office and get anywhere with the guy?”

I look into the mirror at my newly sleek hair. It frames my face, falling in a shiny sheet of brown that seems to bring out the little glints of gold in my eyes. I don’t look like me anymore, but since I don’t feel like myself either, I’m not too concerned.

As I tug on the blouse and tulip skirt, I tell Beth my plan, and she helps me tweak the weaker spots. When I’m finished dressing, Beth helps me with my makeup. “Well, damn girl! You have that law student look nailed.”

“Yeah, well, here’s to hoping. Hopefully I have enough jargon from Law & Order stuck in my head to sound halfway convincing.”

She scoffs, “Not necessary. This is Ferro, and you’re hot. Hotness trumps everything with that man.”

I nod slowly, remembering what I’ve read in the papers about the guy. He has a way of letting his dick wander. It’s disturbing how he remained married to the ice queen, Constance Ferro, and she just looked the other way. Why do women do that? Is it pride or something else? I can’t look the other way, but then again, it wasn't Connie's mom screwing her husband.

Beth makes some last second adjustments and then stands back, arms folded over her chest. Her index finger taps against her cheek. “Something’s off. We need a little boost to make him think twice, which means we need some clout. Bling. Neck money.” She rushes to her dresser, grabs a jewelry box, and pulls out a pair of gold earrings and hands them to me. “They’re small, understated on purpose. It’ll make them reconsider your bargain basement threads.”

I frown and look at the new suit. “It looks cheap?”

“Not cheap, but not designer. There are two possible explanations. One, you’re poor. Two, you’re rich and don’t waste money on stupid shit. The clues are in the little things—rings, watches, shoes, and gold. Here, take this too.” She hands me a watch with a black leather band and a plain face embossed with Roman numerals. I put it on my wrist. “It’s pretty.”

“It should be. It’s Le Couture. I got that for my graduation from my grandparents. It’s a twenty thousand dollar watch. The earrings are Tiffany’s. This ring is Cartier.”

“I can’t wear this stuff! What if I get mugged? Beth!” I turn green and start to shuck the jewelry like it's made of acid.

She places her hand over the watch and shakes her head. “It’s part of the game, Kerry. If you want to do this, you need all the pieces in place. This stuff is your shield. It deflects questions about your socioeconomic rank and status. It says you’re one of us.”

“So, I knew you guys were loaded, but I didn’t realize you were like a millionaire in the making. Why do you hang out with me?” My face scrunches up, and I wonder why she decided to befriend me. I don’t want to be a charity case, but she never made me feel like that—even though I am one.

“Holy shit! Don’t even. I’m not doing this with you right now!”

“But—”

“But nothing. I’m Beth. You’re Kerry. We’re both in college, we both have problems, and we've got each other’s backs. Isn’t that enough?” Worry pinches the corners of her eyes, and I realize she’s had enough fake friends to last a lifetime. Beth doesn’t dress like she’s made of money, but apparently she is. I’m only wearing a few things from her jewelry box, and I suspect they're worth more than most families make in a year.

“You’re right. It’s more than enough.”

“Right. Now the last thing that needs addressing is that stupid Fitbit. You can’t wear it.” She points at the black band on my wrist. “Where’d you get it? Did you have that the other day?”

I try not to blush and glance at my wrist. “Carter gave it to me. I can’t take it off. He’s all excited about it and he’ll think I don’t like him again. I’m not going through that.” I unfasten the thing and bend down and strap it around my ankle. When I stand, I beam at Beth. “Problem solved.”

She snorts. “Yeah, now you look like an inmate instead of a health nut. Good call.”

“I’m not taking it off.”

“Take it off!” She hollers back as I grab my purse and rush to the door.

I leave it on and kill the Fitbit convo. “I’ll be back later. Wish me luck.”

Beth rolls her eyes and smiles hard. “Are you going to drive over there?”

“Yeah, why?”

She dangles her keys in front of me. “Not in the bus. That just screams that you're totally fucking crazy. There’s no other explanation for it.” We both start laughing, and she shoves her keys into my hand.

Beth slaps me on the back and walks me to the door. “You got this.”

“I got this.”

“You’re a badass.”

“I’m a badass.” The borrowed confidence straightens my backbone, and I’m ready to play hardball. I’m walking in, aiming straight for his nuts, and not leaving until I get what I want.