Bound by Lies: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 11

  I drop the pants and focus solely on the wallet, a window into Caden’s life. I open it. Inside, the card section is sparse. First I pull out a driver’s license with the name Caden Thaine on it. The picture of him is him but… it looks somehow different. This hair is longer and more unruly and he is scowling at the camera. There is a bank card also with C Thaine stamped across it. I turn the card over and note his hurried signature.

  I separate the money section. There is cash in there. A lot of cash. In fifties. I count them quickly. Holy Jesus. Five hundred dollars. He has five hundred dollars in his wallet.

  What the hell is Caden doing with all this cash?

  I’m about to close the wallet back up when I notice another section tucked in behind the cards. My fingers probe this section. My heart skitters when I feel the edge of something flat and plastic.

  I glance towards the bathroom door before I pinch the edge of this hidden object and pull it out. It’s a photo, creased and faded. It shows a close-up of a little girl’s face, perhaps only three or four. She’s smiling at the camera with her light brown hair and green eyes. I recognize them instantly. Those are Caden’s eyes.

  Who is this girl? She’s obviously related to Caden. The photo is old and faded, so who knows how long ago it was taken and how old the girl is now. Is she his sister? His mother? Or… his daughter? A knot forms in my stomach. If he has a daughter, is he married? He can’t be. Caden doesn’t have a wedding ring on his finger nor does he have a tan line indicating he has been wearing one – I checked on our first date.

  I hear the water turn off in the shower. Shit. I shove the card back in the compartment and grab the pants from the floor. My fingers probe for the back pocket. The back pocket, where is the back pocket? I find it and shove the wallet in but… it won’t go in. What the hell?

  I realize I was trying to shove the wallet into the second back pocket. A second back pocket with something else in it. I missed something. I slip my hand in and flinch when I pull out… a second wallet.

  This one is made of black weaved leather. I can’t see the brand label, but I can already tell by the softness of this leather that it’s expensive. Why is Caden carrying a second wallet?

  A noise from the bathroom alerts me that Caden is coming out. Shit shit shit. I don’t have time to find out. I shove both wallets back into their respective pockets and stuff the pants back under the blankets. I slip under the bed sheet and feign sleepiness.

  Click.

  Just as the door unlocks. I watch it open through the slits of my eyes. I have to pretend that my head isn’t rushing around with questions. Who is the girl? What’s in the second wallet? I steady my breath and count backwards from ten to try to slow my racing heart. Calm, keep calm.

  When Caden steps out of the bathroom he’s already dressed in dark blue pajama bottoms and a dark t-shirt. Out of the corner of my almost-closed eyes I watch him place his bag down on the bag rack near the door. He moves towards the bed to pick up the blankets and throw them over me. I hear his pants drop on the carpet when they fall out of the mess of blankets.

  He frowns when he sees his pants. I close my eyes fully. I feel his gaze move over me. I hear him move back to the bag rack. Only then do I take another peek. He folds his pants and shoves them into the top of the bag and zips it up.

  I close my eyes again as he turns.

  I don’t make a noise as he walks over the carpet. The mattress shifts behind me and my heart patters as he slips under the covers. The bedside light clicks off and we are submerged in darkness.

  He kisses the back of my neck and whispers goodnight and I feel a few drops of moisture from his hair drop onto my skin. He puts his arm around me like always. For once I don’t want him to hold me. I shake his arm off and scuttle further to the edge of the bed.

  “It’s too hot,” I mumble. It’s a pathetic excuse but the only one I can come up with. I can feel the tension behind me. Then it releases and he settles on his back. Whether he believes me or not, he seems to accept my lie.

  For the first time ever, we lie in bed without touching. My back feels cold and I curl tighter in on myself.

  I can’t sleep. I lay awake, my mind whirring over and over that little girl’s photo and the second expensive leather wallet. It’s clear that Caden has another life outside of me but… what is this other life?

  Who is Caden Thaine? Who is the girl he carries around with him? Where is she now?

  What’s in that second wallet? Did he steal it? Is this how he gets all his money? Oh God. Am I sleeping with a thief? Another criminal? What is wrong with me that I keep picking guys like this?

  Stop jumping to conclusions. You don’t know yet what is in that second wallet. Yet.

  I have to find out. I just have to.

  I listen for Caden’s breathing to deepen. Slowly his breath steadies and he seems to settle into sleep. I count to a hundred, then look over my shoulder. His face is turned slightly away from me. I think his eyes are shut. I hope his eyes are shut. I turn my head back to look towards the bag rack and my resolve firms. I have to know what kind of man sleeps next to me. I have to know.

  I slowly lift the blanket and slide my feet out from the side of the mattress. I pause. Hearing no change in Caden’s breathing, I pull the blanket back even further. Inch by inch I roll up to sitting. I place my feet on the floor and push myself up to stand. I pause and check over my shoulder. Caden hasn’t moved.

  I tiptoe across the carpet, repressing the shiver that runs through me. I tell myself it’s just the coolness of the air compared to being under the blankets with Caden. I know I’m lying to myself. I’m dreading what I might find.

  I stop next to the bag rack. I know from seeing Caden’s bag earlier that it’s a navy canvas boxing-style bag with two thick strap handles and a zip that opens up three sides of the top panel. In the dark I can just make out the shape of it. I feel around the top for the zip. It clinks when I knock it and I flinch. My eyes dart to the bed.

  Still no movement. I hold the zip firmly between my forefinger and thumb and take in a deep breath. Shit, am I really doing this? I start to move the zipper around. Slowly, slowly so it makes as little noise as possible, just a small clicking noise as the zip separates the teeth.

  Finally, it’s open wide enough to slip my hand in. I feel around the folded pants material for the back pocket, one eye on Caden’s sleeping form. I find the back pocket and slip my fingers inside. The wallet is still inside and the familiar soft leather lets me know it’s the right one. I pull it out, untangling it from the fold of material as I go.

  My heart leaps into my throat when I hear the sheets rustle. Shit. Shit. I snatch the wallet out and turn my head just in time to see Caden rolling towards my side of the bed. I don’t have time to hide.

  “Kitten?” His voice growls out to me in the dark.

  “I’m just… bathroom. Just going to the bathroom,” I call back as I stumble through the open door beside me. Crap. Did he see that I was standing at his bag? Did he notice the wallet in my hand?

  I close the door and lock it behind me. I fumble for the light switch and blink as the fluorescent light bulb sears my eyeballs. Shit. What am I doing?

  My legs are shaking, so I sit on the lid of the toilet. The ceramic toilet lid is cold under my ass, as is the marble under my toes. I barely move as I strain to listen over the thump of my heart in my ears for footsteps, for the rustle of material, for any noise that will tell me he has climbed out of bed and found his bag opened and has caught me. Oh God. What would he do if he caught me going through his things?

  A chill settles over me. What would he do?

  Caden would never hurt me.

  But do I really know Caden?

  It takes another few long minutes of listening to silence for me to convince myself that Caden hasn’t discovered his wallet missing. My heart stops feeling like it’s trying to break out of my chest. I turn my attention to the wallet. I place it in my lap and wipe my sweaty palms on a tow
el hanging on the rack near me. Only then do I pick the wallet back up and open it.

  “Bottega Veneta” is engraved into the bottom left of the inside with “Made in France” underneath it. It smells of leather and wealth. Whoever owns this wallet is very rich. I check the cash section first, expecting another stash of hundreds. I’m surprised when I only find a twenty.

  I turn back to the card section, which only has three cards peeking out, and pull out the top one. It’s a platinum American Express credit card. Damn. I’ve never seen one of these. I scan the name. H Lexington? Who is H Lexington? Why does Caden have his wallet? An uneasy feeling creeps over me.

  I pull out the next card. A gold bank card. Also for H Lexington.

  One last card. I pull that out. It is a driver’s license for a Harper Lexington. I swallow a gasp. In the picture is Caden. He’s clean shaven, and with a softer jaw he looks several years younger. His hair has been dyed blonde with honey highlights and styled messily. But the self-assured smirk I recognize.

  Oh my God.

  Caden didn’t steal Harper’s wallet. Caden is Harper. Or is Harper really Caden? Whoever he is, what the hell is he doing with two sets of identification? I roll this new name over in my head. I haven’t heard of a Harper Lexington. The name sounds alien to me. Caden can’t be Harper Lexington.

  So are these cards fake? Why does he need a fake ID? Where would Caden even get a fake ID from?

  My mind runs over the underground labyrinth of criminal activity in every city. It wouldn’t be hard for a man to become someone else if he had the right connections…

  A knock at the door startles me. “Kitten?”

  My hands flinch. In slow motion I watch the wallet fumble out of my fingers. Shit. I scramble to catch it. I’m too late. The wallet lands on the marble tiles with a sharp clack. Shit. Did he hear that?

  “Are you okay in there? You’ve been in there a while.”

  I scramble for the wallet and shove the license back into its spot. “Fine. Just finishing up.”

  I stand. I pick up the toilet lid and let it drop so it makes a noise, then I flush it. I step up to the sink and place the wallet on a dry spot on the side and turn on the tap to wash my hands. I stare at the black rectangular leather like it’s a bomb. What do I do now? How do I get it back into the bag without him seeing me do it?

  After I turn off the tap and dry my hands I still haven’t come up with a plan. I’m going to have to wing it. I shove the wallet into the front of my shorts and check myself in the mirror. Hmm, the bulge is obvious. So I move it to the small of my back. Better but not perfect.

  I unlock the door and open it. I jump back when I see Caden’s figure leaning against the frame.

  His brows furrow with amusement. “Not who you were expecting?”

  Oh my God, he knows. “I just didn’t think you’d be standing outside the bathroom waiting for me to finish.”

  His eyes rake lazily down my body and he reaches out to finger the hem of my silky top near my stomach. Thank God I didn’t leave his wallet in the front of my shorts. He pulls me closer to him by my hem and my skin reacts by breaking out in goose bumps.

  “This is new. Did I tell you earlier how much I like this color on you?”

  My stomach tightens. “No.”

  I try to push through the gap between him and the door frame, keeping my back to the frame. I stop when I realize that the space is too small and he’s not moving aside. If I squeeze through, the frame will knock the wallet from my back.

  I’m stuck here, forced flush against Caden’s side. He slots his knee between my legs so that I can’t move back into the bathroom. When I look up, his shoulders are positively looming over and around me. His eyes are hooded from sleep, but from the way his mouth is quirked up I know he has something else on his mind. Shit. I absolutely cannot let Caden put his hands on me or he’ll find his wallet.

  “Are you going to let me through or are we gonna stand here all night?”

  Caden leans down and captures my bottom lip in his mouth and draws it in for a slow deep suck. Heat pools in my belly. Stupid body. Wanting him at a time like this. My lip pops from his mouth when he pulls back.

  He grins, a lazy grin. “You’re being weird.”

  I swallow. Shit. I’m so screwed. I prepare myself.

  He moves past me into the bathroom. He turns and looks at me, one hand holding the edge of the door. “You gonna let me use the bathroom?”

  I blink. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

  As I back out of the bathroom I can’t believe my good fortune. He’s still giving me that amused slightly-confused look, but I don’t care. I may just get out of this mess. He swings the door closed and I hear the lock click.

  I turn quickly to the bag, slipping the wallet out of my waistband as the stream of water into the toilet begins. I slip my hand in the top of the bag and fumble through the folds of cloth. The tinkling noise stops and the toilet flushes. Come on. Where is that back pocket? The toilet noise fades and is replaced with the sound of running water. Shit. Come on. He’ll be done soon. My fingers become frantic and I almost pull out the whole pair of pants.

  Yes, found it. I slip the wallet in and snatch my hand out of the bag. I yank the zip closed just as the water shuts off in the sink. I cringe and pray that he didn’t hear the zipper.

  I bolt for the bed. The lock clicks.

  I slip onto the mattress and yank the covers over me. I hear the door open and the small panel of light falls across his bag on the bag rack like a police spotlight. Did I put it back right? Can he see that his bag has been touched since he put it down? The light switches off. In the thick blackness I can hear Caden ambling back to the bed. I try not to tense up as he slips in under the covers behind me, but it’s hard when my whole body is prepared to run.

  “Kitten?”

  My breath hitches. “Yes?”

  “I’m… sorry. About earlier.”

  “Earlier?”

  “I know you’re upset at me because I didn’t tell you what’s wrong.”

  “Oh.”

  “I just…” I hear him sigh. “I wish I could… tell you. But I can’t. If it were only my secret, if there weren’t others involved that could be affected by my telling you, I would. I know it doesn’t make it any easier for you not knowing.”

  I go over his words in my brain. If it were only my secret. Has this got to do with the girl in the photo? Is she somehow the reason behind his two identities?

  He moves closer to me. His warmth reaches for me like luring arms and I want so badly to sink back into him. How can this… this stranger behind me feel so familiar and safe? He reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Do you forgive me?”

  Do I?

  My heart wants so badly to believe that Caden has a perfectly good reason behind all of this. Am I just being a fool if I believe him?

  You were fooled once, remember?

  I have to know. I can’t leave this alone. Until I figure out who Caden is and what he’s hiding, I need to act like nothing is wrong.

  “I forgive you, Cade.” I inch back towards him and press into his body. He hums as he pulls me closer to him and I slot back into my spot against him. I frown as a contentment waves over me. How can it still feel so amazing to be with him even though I know he’s hiding things from me? Am I a fool for staying?

  How can something wrong feel this right?

  When I wake that morning, Caden is gone. But the discoveries from last night still curl around me like a vulture and grip me with its claws.

  Caden Thaine. Harper Lexington.

  Who are they?

  I don’t bother showering. I dress in a pair of skinny jeans and a top and slip on my black converse sneakers. I throw the rest of my things into my overnight bag and leave. I don’t head home. I head straight to the closest public library, located about a twenty minute walk from here according to the hotel concierge.

  In the library the librarian directs me to the table set up with
four grey and boxy-looking computers. I thank her and sit before one of the computers. I have already done an internet search on Caden Thaine once before. I do it again now just in case.

  Finally the slow internet loads up the search result page. I scroll the pages of the results, keeping an eye out for anything relevant. No. Still nothing. I expected this.

  I click back on the search bar and type Harper Lexington. I pause before I hit the search button. I feel like… if I do this, there is no turning back. What if I find something that I wish I didn’t know?

  I have to know. No matter what it is.

  With my body jittering with trepidation, I hit search. My fingertips drum on the desktop while I wait for the page to load. Come on. I catch a stern look from the lady sitting next to me. “Sorry,” I mouth to her, and I stop the drumming.

  The page blinks as it finishes loading. I lean into the screen, my gaze flicking over the search results and article titles. I click further and further back and the news articles get older and older by years and years. Surely there has to be something. Anything. Or is Harper Lexington a ghost too?

  A headline stops me dead.

  “Lexington family murdered in their home.”

  In the snippets of text below I see:

  …survived by son Harper Lexington…

  A chill grips my bones. I click on the article link and it opens in a new window. There’s a picture of a mansion looming through a set of gates. It’s white and stark like a museum, and I imagine the insides must look like one as well. The lawn that stretches out from the gate to the house is made of sternly cut grass. No flowers, no bushes or garden paths. Where’s the “no fun allowed” sign? I think.

  I read the article.

  Mr. and Mrs. Lexington and their thirteen-year-old daughter, Hayley, were found murdered in their family home. The mother and daughter were found shot through the head execution style. The scene showed signs of the father fighting back until he succumbed to three gunshot wounds to the chest and stomach. The father had been tortured prior to his death, but the police would not reveal the details. The police are launching an investigation but currently have no suspects. They are survived by their son, Harper Lexington, nineteen, who was not home when the brutal murders took place.