Dangerous Lies

“So, how are you doing?” Kathryn, psychiatrist of the rich, looked over at me from her armchair across the low coffee table between us. Her perfectly laundered pantsuit barely had a crease out of place, and her hair was slicked back into a high pony. Her notebook was propped up on one knee.

“Peachy.” I nodded at her, propping my head up on my hand and resting on the side of the chair.

“Are you still dreaming?” Her head tilted to the other side as she examined me.

“If I can manage to sleep.” I sighed. “I can smell the dirt in the room, I can feel the cold in my bones, I see the blood pooling on the floor. He’s yelling for me to save him.” I picked at my fingernails while I talked. “Aren’t I supposed to feel different? Angry, or something?”

“Do you think you should feel angry?” she raised a brow and paused to take notes. I didn’t respond. “Are you still self-medicating?” Kathryn pressed. Seeing a therapist hadn’t been my idea of a good time but my parents had forced me to show up every week since I moved back to their house.

“It’s just Oxy.” I gave her a look to demonstrate how silly her question was, gesturing to the red scar above my knee. “It’s for the pain.”

She gave a curt nod that told me she was saving up everything I said so she could nail me with it later. “Eva, I’m going to be upfront with you.” She set down her pen and looked up at me again from behind her glasses. “You’ve been coming to see me for five months and we have yet to make any significant progress. It’s not uncommon for people with trauma reactions to take months, even years, to heal. But you’re not even trying. You aren’t completing the homework I’m giving you, and you’re not attending meetings. You haven’t reached out to any friends. You’re late for appointments if you show up at all. I’m beginning to think I’m not the right person to help you.” She paused, watching me for a second, waiting for a reaction or an answer to a question I wasn’t aware she’d asked. “What do you think about that?”

“I think the fact that you expect me to make some kind of significant progress when you’re operating under my parent's direction, not mine, means the idea that I’m still coming to see you is a miracle.” I brushed a stray hair from my forehead and leaned back in the chair. Kathryn considered me for a moment, before writing something else on her stupid notepad.

An hour later, the door to her office closed behind me and I waved to her receptionist as I returned to my new car, parked on the other side of the glass front door. I’d had to sell my old car - I couldn’t look at it, let alone drive it after Travis had been in it.

Kathryn was right, it had been five months since I moved out of my apartment and back in with my parents across the city. Five months since I’d seen Alice or Jacob. Five months since I watched Conner walk out the door of Meredith’s house. Five months since they pulled me out of that concrete tomb. I couldn’t face living in an apartment mere feet from the guy who helped my ex-boyfriend stalk me for months. I couldn’t stand answering the questions that I would inevitably have to answer. I quit my job at the magazine. The only thing that stopped me from moving to a brand new city was the fact that I had no money.

They’d called and texted me for the first few months, trying to get me to go out with them, or come to house parties, but I never answered. Conner had called me nonstop for weeks until he finally gave up. What would I have said to him? His last words to me were a cruel, emotionally loaded statement designed to blackmail me into feeling bad for ending whatever was between us.

My car came to a stop at the side of the road in front of my parent's house. It had looked the same since I was a kid. Hedges were cut neatly, rosebushes and ferns trimmed so precisely, not a single leaf littered the grass of the Spanish Colonial. In the early winter, afternoon sun, the shadow of the cottonwood tree stretched to the roof, its limbs climbed all the way up to my bedroom window. The same tree that Travis would climb to sneak in when we were kids. My family was the definition of upper-middle-class. My parents, both in their early fifties, worked as University professors.

The house was quiet when I walked in, save for Rocky, my parent's bull terrier, who came clicking down the hardwood hallway to greet me.

“Hey, little man,” I knelt down to give him a scratch behind the ear and a snuggle, but he had other ideas and attempted to climb on my lap, knocking me to the floor and beginning to lick my face. “Rocky, get off me. How would you like it if I sat on you?” I chuckled, giving him a shove and getting back to my feet. I took the stairs up to my bedroom and flopped down on my bed. I kicked my tennis shoes off and tucked my legs up on the mattress. Rocky had followed me and jumped up next to me, curling up in a furry ball. My laptop was still half open near my pillows. I’d spent the better part of my morning looking for a new job or a new apartment. I didn’t think my parents minded having me live with them, but my mother made a habit of rolling her eyes when I got out of bed later than 8am, and kept trying to set me up on dates with her graduate students. The last one wore 80’s eyeglasses and turtlenecks.

Rocky let out a loud huff from next to me as I shuffled up to my pillows.

“I know, buddy. I need to find a new job so I can get out of here.” I gave him a scratch on the back as I absentmindedly scrolled through some more job ads. It didn’t take long to reach the end of the list, and I snapped my laptop shut with a heavy sigh.

I played with Rocky’s fur while I stared out the window, the sun was on its way down, leaving the sky a bright pink colour and casting orange shadows across my walls. Some old college friends had invited me to a warehouse party that night and, as usual, I was looking for any excuse to get intoxicated.

After a quick shower, I pinned my short red hair back from my face, curling it with a straightener. I wanted to say that I regretted it, but when Conner walked out of my life, I cut my hair off to my shoulders and it looked really cute.

The November chill was starting to dominate the weather outside, and I carefully chose a loose-fitting sweater dress and thigh-high suede boots to wear to the party.

“Evangeline, sweetheart.” My mother knocked on the door of my bedroom before she stepped inside. Another thing I missed about living alone. Privacy. “Are you going to be home for dinner?” She gave Rocky a scratch on the belly as she sat down on the end of my bed and watched me finish my makeup in the mirror.

“Save me some, I don’t know how long I’ll be out tonight,” I dusted translucent powder over my skin, then set my compact back down on my dresser.

“Eva, your dad and I think it might be a good idea to have a night in,” she said, giving me a gentle smile.

“I appreciate that you’re worried about me after everything that happened, but I’m okay. Really.” I sat down next to her and wrapped both of my arms around her shoulders. “I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can find a job.” I rested my head against my mother’s while she petted Rocky.

“We don’t want you to leave, Eva. We just want you to be safe,” she reassured me.

“I have to get going, but we can talk about this again later. I love you.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek as I jumped back to my feet and picked up my clutch. My mother and Rocky saw me out the front door and to my car.

When I arrived at the club downtown, there was loud music echoing throughout the industrial area. It was an old meat packing plant that had been converted into a nightclub. A good idea for the owners, who chose it specifically to avoid noise ordinance. Cars lined the dark streets, some of which had been parked in slightly less legal bays. It was going to be a task to find a spot and I cursed under my breath for choosing to drive.

Car after car slipped past outside of my window and I let out a huff as I ended up further and further away from the warehouse. Finally, I found a space large enough for me to wedge my car in.

People milled around the street as I approached the building. There were groups of people having sex on cars, small crowds sitting around fires in barrels, smoking weed, people tripping on acid. The other bonus of having a nightclub in an industrial zone meant that police rarely showed up, and if they did, they left quickly with a heavy bribe to help them look the other way.

There was no line to get into the club, security was hired to make sure people didn’t die rather than make sure the crowd was a particular type. I looked up to the mezzanine level as soon as I stepped inside, spotting my friend sitting at a high table. Rachel was entertaining a group of people, men and women. Her long dark hair was curled neatly around her shoulders as she talked animatedly. Rachel and I had reconnected a few months previous when I ran into her at a café near my parent's house. She and I had been friends at university but had drifted apart and lost contact when I moved to New York. I remembered Rachel as a quiet, polite, dedicated student with a strong interest in books, so I was surprised to learn that she was working as a club promoter and in an open, polyamorous relationship with a guitarist and a real estate developer. She smiled widely when she saw me coming up the stairs and rushed over to me, pulling me into a huge hug.

“You came!” she squealed, taking me by the hand and dragged me towards the table. “Eva, this is Melody, Ben, and Zac.” Rachel pointed at each of them, they all politely nodded their hello.

“Drinks, ladies?” Zac asked, leaning towards us so that we could hear him over the noise, I could see his heavily tattooed chest under the thin cotton of his white shirt.

“Shots!” Rachel shouted in response, throwing her arms in the air. He gave us a nod and strode over to the bar, his hand brushing Rachel’s backside as he went.

“Eva, how do you know Rachel?” Melody crossed the circle and touched me gently on the arm to get my attention.

“We took some classes together at university. She was very quiet and liked reading, and I was—”

“Permanently glued to Ali’s hip and with a new guy every fortnight.” Rachel slung her arm around my shoulders, teasing me. She pressed a kiss to my cheek when I giggled at her words. “Are you still friends with Ali? We should get her to come out with us!”

“Ali’s married.” I forced a laugh, avoiding Rachel’s question.

“No!” she gasped in disbelief, her jaw dropping dramatically.

“It’s just you and me, babe.” I shrugged. Melody watched our exchange silently, a smile playing on her lips too. At that moment, Zac returned with a handful of shots and set them in front of us on the table.

“Okay, count it in!” Melody yelled as the three of us picked up a shot each and held it to our lips. “One, two, three!” She raised a finger with each count and the three of us tossed back our glasses. We slammed them back on the surface of the table and Rachel let out a hiss, her face scrunching up as the burning alcohol slipped down her throat. Her mouth fell open and she stuck her tongue out. Ben, the real estate developer, slipped his arms around her waist and whispered something into her ear. She laughed a high-pitched giggle, and wiggled back against his body, planting a sultry kiss on his face. Melody tapped me on the arm to get my attention and dragged me to the booth in the corner, behind the table. Zac was sitting in conversation with another guy. He gave me a polite smile before returning his attention to his friend.

“I’m so glad you came out tonight. I thought I was going to be the only single lady here.” Melody leaned in to yell over the music, drawing my attention away from the handsome stranger talking to Zac.

“What makes you think I’m single?” I teased her, narrowing my eyes playfully. Melody’s eyes widened and she panicked silently for a second. “I’m fucking with you,” I reassured her, chuckling. A waitress came by, setting more shots, and some cocktails, down on the table as she went. Melody picked up two shots, handed one to me, and then got herself a cocktail. I followed her lead and the drinks disappeared quickly.

“Rachel mentioned you’re a journalist,” Melody said as she set her empty cocktail glass back on the table and flagged the waitress down for another.

“I was an editor for a music magazine until a few months ago,” I nodded, setting my empty glass down as well. “I’m looking for a new position at the moment.”

“Oh, why’d you leave?”

“It was just time to move on, I think.” The more I had to explain it, and the more time passed, I got better at noncommittal answers to these questions. The truth was, I wasn’t able to face Ali after Conner and Max rescued me from Travis. She didn’t know the truth about her husband’s job, she still spent a lot of time socialising with Conner, and she wouldn’t have understood why I couldn’t forgive him.

By the time we’d had our fourth cocktail, Melody and I were laughing like old friends, the liquor rushing through our blood. “I’m heading to the bathroom,” Melody stood up and stumbled over to a door with ‘Ladies’ written on it, leaving me to relax in the booth. I could see Rachel and Ben cozying up together in the darkness of the club and my head swam as I rested back against the cushioned bench.

“Eva, hey Eva!” Zac waved his hand in front of my face to get my attention.

“Hi!” I smiled at him dreamily, enjoying the buzz of alcohol in my veins.

“This is a friend of mine, Austin.” He gestured over his shoulder to a guy who was sitting next to him. Dressed in a black hoodie and black jeans, Austin gave me a flirty smile. I noticed his eyes flick down over my body and I returned his smile. He moved from the stool he was perched on and took the seat that Melody had been in. He had a strong scent of something earthy and his arms and hands were covered in tattoos much the same as Zac’s.

“How do you know Zac?” Austin asked, setting his drink down on the table in front of us and turning to face me.

“We just met. I was at university with Zac’s girlfriend, Rachel.” I explained, picking up Austin’s drink and downing the remainder. “Ugh, you drink bourbon?” I screwed up my face as I swallowed the vile cocktail.

Austin chuckled and hung his head in mock shame. “I’ve disappointed her already.”

“Buy us some real drinks and you can make it up to me.” I smiled, placing my hand on his thigh. He nodded and rose from his seat, disappearing over to the bar. I noticed Melody had returned from her trip to the bathroom and was watching me with interest.

Austin returned a short time later with two more drinks and sat down next to me, handing me one. “Rachel said it’s your drink of preference.”

I took a sip. Vodka and soda. It would do.

“So how come we haven’t met before?” Austin edged closer to me on the seat so our thighs were touching.

“I was running with a different crowd,” I explained, leaning in so that he could hear me over the music. My shoulder brushed his, and my hair fell on his shoulder. My dress rode up slightly as I shifted and Austin’s eyes dropped to my bare thigh. He reached down and his fingers traced across the scar above my knee.

“What happened?” His fingers ran over the vivid pink scar again. He knew it was recent.

“Nothing. I’m a walking accident,” I giggled, trying to hide my embarrassment. I dropped my head against his muscular shoulder and he lifted my thighs over his knee, lightly tracing his fingertips over the sensitive skin inside my knee. “What did you get yourself to drink?” I pointed at the glass in his other hand.

“Rum and pineapple.” He turned to me, his mouth was inches from mine, breath whispering across my lips.

“Let me try it, I want a taste!” I held my fingers out for the glass but his mouth caught mine. Austin’s tongue flicked into my mouth and his fingers paused on my thigh. His kiss was intoxicating, it made me dizzy…or maybe that was the vodka. He pulled back after a few seconds and dragged his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Hope it tasted good,” he smirked. I ran my tongue over my lips, savouring his taste, and gave him a sly wink. My arms hugged one of his and I rested my head on his shoulder, looking up at his mouth. His fingers resumed their manipulations of my skin and his lips crushed against mine again. “You’re so hot,” he whispered against my mouth as his palm came to rest against my cheek.

“Hey, you two!” Rachel threw herself down next to me, pulling us apart. “We’re heading to a smaller party at Zac’s friend’s loft. You in?”

“I’m in,” Austin smiled, curling his fingertips around my hair and brushing it off my shoulder to plant a kiss on my bare arm. Rachel’s eyes flicked to meet mine expectantly.

“I’m not ready for bed yet, so I’m in.” I shrugged as Austin’s fingers danced their way softly down my spine. Rachel seemed relieved and held out her hand to help me to my feet. Austin rose to his feet behind me and his hand played on my waist. The six of us filed down the stairs and into the cool night air.