Lies & Love

By C A Vincent

It takes an argument and a car crash for Tawny Briggs to realize two very important things. First, she isn’t insignificant and second, it’s time to fight for what’s hers. Who knew finally standing up for herself would uncover a tangled mess of lies and deceit, though? As she sorts everything out, an unexpected friendship develops with none other than the driver of the other vehicle. Is she strong enough to let it become more, or will their pasts create an permanent rift?

A car accident forces Jeff Ames into a position where he has to heal himself both physically and emotionally while taking care of his infant daughter. Who better to help him get his life back on track than the rich passenger from the other car? He gets more than he bargained for when he becomes embroiled in her life. Just as things are looking up for both of them, his ex decides to put her two cents in. With his past getting in the way, will he lose his chance at a future with the woman of his dreams?

• Language: English
• Publisher: C A Vincent
• Release date: Jun 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310901980

C A Vincent

C A Vincent is the pen name for Chantal Toms. I write for the joy of storytelling and, occasionally, to quiet the voices in my head.

Book preview

Prologue

September, 2010

You really shouldn’t be driving, Jesse. Let me call Rafael. Jesse ignored her and half-slid, half-dropped into the driver’s seat of his Camry. Tawny shuddered as she considered his mood along with how much he’d had to drink. The last rum and coke she’d had soured in her stomach.

Every instinct she possessed told her to call a cab. Or she could call her father’s driver, Rafael. Tawny squashed that idea quicker than it came to her. The price to pay for calling him would be steeper than any cab fare. Jesse revved the engine, making her jump. At that exact same moment, flashes of light went off from both her left and her right.

Not the paparazzi, she thought. Not now. Tawny wasn’t in the mood to be the happy, wild party girl they expected. In a desperate bid to get away she dove into the car. Jesse took off, tires squealing, before the door closed.

Slow down, Tawny snapped, struggling to get her seatbelt buckled. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as Jesse, but his weaving in and out of traffic was making it impossible to put the pieces together. Would you slow down already? This time the request was yelled, almost directly into his ear because she tumbled against him as he took a corner.

Everything clicked into place just as a horn blared. Jesse swore and veered hard to the right. Metal connected with metal. It screeched as it crumpled and tore.

Tawny screamed and threw up her arms in a futile effort to protect her face as glass exploded everywhere. The car spun on impact, the rear slamming into the box of the pickup truck they’d hit.

The horn of the F150 continued to blare as both vehicles came to a rocking stop. Tawny struggled against the blackness threatening to overwhelm her mind. Disoriented, she turned to look at Jesse and saw instead the blood-covered face of the other driver. Horror flooded her system as she watched the light leave his eyes. Devastated, she relinquished the battle for consciousness.

1

October, 2010

You can’t leave me stranded in this God-forsaken house again. Tawny hated the pleading tone in her voice but didn’t do anything to curb it. The whininess lent an air of authenticity to her plea.

In for a penny, in for a pound, she silently reasoned grinding her teeth and going with the flow she’d created.

She was at the end of her rope. Ever since the accident, her father refused to let her leave the house. Rafael, when he wasn’t working as driver or bodyguard, played babysitter. The tall, dark creep’s presence made her skin crawl. He knew it, too, and contrived to be around as much as possible. In her efforts to avoid him, Tawny spent the majority of each day locked in her bedroom.

Unfortunately, being prisoner in her own home gave her way too damn much time to relive that horrible night over and over again in her mind. She was haunted by nightmares, plagued by constant repetitious memories of watching a man die. Tawny needed to get the hell out. If she didn’t, she’d go insane.

What neither man realized was that she had a plan to do just that. Permanently. This desperate plea to her father was an attempt at giving both him and Rafael a false sense of control because she fully intended to make the most of their being out for the next several hours.

Darling, you don’t look well at all, her father fairly crooned. His voice was syrupy-sweet as he took her hands in his. Tawny had to fight to keep from yanking them back and wiping them on her jeans.

His latest gold-digging tramp looked on, her eyes misting over. Either the woman was fooled by her father’s act of concern or she was putting on a show of her own. Tawny was about ready to throw up from the excess of Poor Tawny. It rolled off both of them in waves.

I’m not well because I’m stagnating in this house. You can drop me off at the Café down the block from the museum. No one will see us together, she added. It was best to not give up too easily. If she did, he’d become suspicious and drive himself into the city proper. The last thing she needed was for Rafael to stay behind.

Of course, there was nothing else her father hated more than being seen in public with her. Tawny was counting on this as she stood there, trying to look desperate. As expected, however, he was already tuning her out.

No. I’m afraid you’ll be staying in again tonight, he told her. He turned abruptly away, but not before a look of disgust flashed in his eyes. Tawny didn’t miss the surreptitious wiping of his hands on the slacks of his tux either. Taking his latest bimbo’s elbow, he led her away. When he reached the door, he turned and fired one last parting shot.

I won’t need Rafael again once he drops us at the museum. I’ve given him the rest of the night off. Don’t bother trying to con him into driving you anywhere. He has plans.

It took everything she possessed to keep from gagging as the door closed quietly behind her father’s back. Tawny knew what Rafael’s plans were. He was going to try to pick the locks on her bedroom door and attempt to play out his sick act of seduction. He was a first-class pervert, not to mention mean and violent.

She’d been at his mercy on countless number of occasions in the past and refused to allow him access ever again. The moment the door closed behind the departing self-important trio, Tawny rushed up to her bedroom and set to work.

A little thrill of triumph coursed through her over her neatly executed ploy. She didn’t take the time to consider the possibility her father had seen through it. He normally did.

And when he does, he calls me on it right away, Tawny thought. No, this time he’s clueless. Bonus for me. Hurrying, she pulled boxes and suitcases from their various hiding places.

***

It took just over an hour to get settled into the little cottage she’d had built at the back of the property. Other than its secluded location - away from the city and prying eyes, the best part about her little hideaway was the fact not even her father knew it existed. Keeping it secret during the last month had been especially difficult because there was always someone around watching her every move.

There was also the matter of her father only returning her cell phone to her just this morning. He’d taken it when she arrived home from the hospital, claiming she wouldn’t need it again. A small part of her liked to think he did this in some warped effort to show he cared. Deep down, however, she knew he likely did it out of spite.

He claimed he was trying to teach her responsibility by punishing her for drinking and driving. When she pointed out Jesse was the one behind the wheel, his jaw set and he glowered.

You know better than to get into a vehicle when the driver is drunk, he snarled. She could have argued about the Paparazzi, that invasive, intrusive group of obnoxious people with nothing better to do than capture her misery. Misery she needn’t endure if he would only allow her to live her life the way she wanted. Arguing would have been pointless. As always, she threw up her hands and let him have his way. It was the story of her life.

Thankfully she’d already told the contractor to hang up if anyone else answered her phone. Even without her father’s recent belated attempt at parenting, there were others in the house who liked to snoop. There were his love interests, a constant stream of gold-digging witches, and Rafael. Out of everyone, he was the most invasive. Keeping her life private was incredibly difficult with the self-important pervert always lurking.

Tonight was her night, though. The maid and cook were both away visiting family and Rafael was out playing driver. Tawny finally had a couple hours where no one was tracking her every move.

Even still, it was a hectic scramble to pull all of her things out of hiding and load them into her Ford Eclipse. This was another secret purchase, delivered only when her father’s taillights were out of sight.

Thank God for money and being good at pretending to be a spoiled Diva, she thought, hefting the last box from the trunk and carrying it into the cottage. All she had to do was talk through her nose with a lot of heavy sighing and whining, offer to liberally grease the salesman’s palm and Voilà!, surreptitious vehicle delivery in the dark of night.

Now she was tucked away in her private space with her father and Rafael none the wiser. All Tawny needed now was groceries. The thought of driving in the city made her queasy. If Jesse were alive, he would have gladly gone for her, but – Memories of that night started to play through her mind.

"I am not going there. I am not going there." Tawny pressed her hands against her temples and squeezed, trying desperately to shut them out. It was no use. Even exploring her pretty new home couldn’t keep them at bay. She recalled the sequence of events yet again, wishing with all her heart and soul she could change them.

Jesse was angry with her again. For months, they’d get along fine. Then, when his status quo was disrupted, he’d demand more from their friendship than there was.

She refused, always. There was already enough drama in her life. He went into a sulk. They’d been through the cycle too many times to count. The night out at the obscure little bar she’d found was her way of trying to snap him out of his latest funk without the ever-watchful eyes of the world getting their fill. Her efforts were wasted.

For whatever reason, Jesse chose that night to decide enough was enough. He was bound determined to sway her to his way of thinking. When trying to get her drunk didn’t work, he decided playing a high-velocity game of chicken on the busy city streets might do the trick. Only, she missed most of his maneuvers because of her struggles with the seatbelt.

Tawny didn’t learn the full truth behind Jesse’s actions until two weeks after the accident. The police told her he wasn’t as drunk as he’d let on. It was all for show. The toxicology report from the ME indicated he was well below the legal limit.

The knowledge he purposely cut into oncoming traffic when she wasn’t paying attention made her wonder if his ultimate plan was to kill them both. She knew him well enough to understand his warped and selfish way of thinking. If they couldn’t be together in life, then they would be in death.

Of course, being Jesse, he was seized by guilt at the last possible second. He swerved to take the full hit on his side of the car. When Jesse was in a mood, his thoughts flew, rapid-fire, in every possible direction. Likely his sudden twist of thought - that he’d end up in hell while she went to heaven - was what prompted his change of heart.

Tawny wandered aimlessly about the cottage, not seeing any of the knickknacks she’d ordered. The entire space was done up to her tastes, yet she found no pleasure in it. In the hope of quelling her anger and frustration toward Jesse, she imagined Rafael running through the mansion, bellowing her name like he owned her. She really did enjoy thwarting the sick S.O.B.

She smiled. Her father’s henchman was incredibly self-important. He was also a mean and twisted pig and Tawny was glad to be free of him. Now that she had her own car, she could drive herself wherever and whenever she wanted. She just had to get used to driving on busy city streets; one of her worst fears.

Her wanderings brought her to the full length mirror installed by the front door. The sight which greeted her made her flinch. Her hair was a dirty, wild mess of tangles. It was normally her pride and glory, all soft, lustrous and shiny.

No one in his right mind would wax poetic about it now, she thought. Not that anyone other than Jesse ever did.

Then there were the deep circles under her eyes. No matter how she tried to hide them, they were almost as dark as shoeblack. Her normally healthy complexion looked gray. Her green eyes – She couldn’t look at them directly but she knew they no longer sparkled. It was horrible, looking more like a washed out forty-something than the twenty-four-year-old she was.

Tawny turned decisively away from the mirror. Tonight was about taking control of her life. If she didn’t, she’d end up like Jesse – another poor, little rich kid whose money wasn’t enough to make her happy. She shuddered, determined to avoid becoming another statistic.

With a firmer resolve, Tawny looked around, actually seeing the space she’d had created for herself. The sense of peace she thought would come with finally being out from under eluded her. She took solace from the small flame of hope burning in her chest though. Her escape tonight meant a new beginning. Maybe with time the peace would come.

The chiming of her cell phone broke into her thoughts. High-pitched, tinkling bells - the ringtone clearly reset by her father so he could hear it - made her heart flutter and her stomach turn. Her palms grew sweaty. The LED screen showed her father’s number. It stank, the amount of control he had over her emotions. Hopefully, with time that would lessen too.

Here goes nothing, she whispered, picking it up and answering. Clearly Rafael’s search of the mansion hadn’t taken as long as she’d anticipated.

Where the hell are you? her father seethed. She could hear music and voices in the background. He was still at the museum, rubbing elbows and schmoozing with the who’s who of Los Angeles. His latest darling was likely digging in her heels, demanding they stay at the party; otherwise he’d be calling from a cab or a rental car. Tawny balled her free hand into a fist at her side for courage and silently told herself not to back down.

Home, she stated simply.

There was no love lost between her and her father. Tawny learned at a very early age she had to take care of herself. She also learned she was only good enough to be seen with him when the public demanded it. Even with these glaringly obvious facts, thrown in her face daily, it took until her seventeenth birthday to realize how completely he hated her. That was the day he spewed his venom at her in front of her friends, breaking from his normal happy together when others are around stance.

In the seven years since, she went from being angry and doing everything possible to make him look bad to finally understanding the only one she was hurting with her so-called rebellion was herself.

With that understanding came the desire to make something of her life so she could finally be rid of him. This little cottage, along with her new car, were only the first steps.

You. Are. Not. At. Home! Rafael has searched the entire mansion. He –

"And why would he do that, Dad? Didn’t he tell you he had plans? Think, Dad. If Rafael had plans, why would he be at the mansion? You are so clueless, Dad," she cut in, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice as she called him what any normal daughter should happily call their male parent.

You have no idea how sick and perverted he is, or how much he’s stolen from us. Tawny took a deep, calming breath. Now wasn’t the time to get into an argument. I’ve moved out, she added quietly but firmly.

The sudden silence at the other end of the line made her wonder if the call had been cut off. Then she heard her father cough and splutter. In her mind’s eye, she could see the panic on his face. Tawny debated knocking the wind right out of his sails by revealing just how many of his secrets she knew. With a shake of her head, she decided there would be time for that later.

Besides, she wouldn’t put it past him to have contacts in the banking world who would gladly find new hiding places for the money he’d stolen from her. If she let too much out of the bag now, who knew what would be left for her once their respective lawyers were done with each other.

When the music of the exhibit opening surged then faded out, Tawny knew her father was on the move. He was likely on his way home to talk sense into her. She knew he wouldn’t find her though, despite the cottage’s proximity to the mansion. Never having concerned himself with more than the house and immediate surrounding area, he had no idea just how large the property actually was.

In the hope it would keep him from running to his lawyers at this late hour, she threw in an I’ll see you in the morning before hanging up. With any luck, that little parting shot would have him stymied enough to do nothing more than get shit-faced drunk and pace in his study the whole night long.

With luck, he’d worry over what she was up to while he drank and give himself an ulcer. He knew he had a meeting with his weak-kneed attorney in the morning. What he didn’t know was that she’d be there too. Only she’d have her late grandfather’s attorney at her side. If the rumors were true, the man was a legal pit bull, even at his advanced age.

As she prepared for a long, hot shower, she considered tomorrow’s meeting. As much as she’d been planning for her complete independence for the last several years, it had taken the accident to goad her into putting the last phase of her plan into action.

Now, with freedom so close at hand, she was a little nervous. Despite her lawyer’s reassurances her father couldn’t touch her money Tawny was worried he’d pull a hat-trick and stop her cold.

He had reason to. The fortune he currently played with wasn’t his. It was hers. She’d heard the story countless number of times from her grandfather’s attorney. As an intern in her grandfather’s company, her father managed to somehow get his hands on part of the old man’s will. Then, thinking bigger, he plotted and took a grab for the rest of his boss’ money by seducing his daughter.

He succeeded in getting her pregnant almost right away and a quiet, hasty wedding followed. Seven months later, Tawny was born. It turned out the will was drastically altered during those seven months and her father, at the time was none the wiser.

Her grandfather, being the shrewd businessman he was, knew full well the reason for his intern’s sudden interest in his nearly spinster daughter. Wanting grandchildren to carry on the family bloodline though, he let the young man think he was getting away with his master plan.

Unfortunately, his daughter died from complications during the baby’s birth. Her death was a blow to both the old man’s ego and conscience and he suffered a nearly-fatal heart attack. Three months later a violent argument with his son in law brought on a second heart attack. This one killed him.

It was only during the reading of her grandfather’s will, her father learned he’d been out-foxed.

2

Mr. Ames, you need to sign this. Your daughter needs surgery. If the doctors don’t operate immediately, she’ll die.

Jeff turned toward the nurse’s voice and stared at her blankly. His daughter. A week out of a coma and he had a daughter. No wife or girlfriend though. Amy was gone. Premature labor brought their baby into the world a few weeks early and instead of sticking around to take care of her, Amy took off. Apparently she wasn’t ready to be a mother, especially to a baby who might have special needs.

When did Amy become such a self-absorbed bitch?

Mr. Ames? The nurse’s voice broke into his thoughts. He was so tired. He should be feeling better by now, the doctors said; weak but better. There was no one to blame but himself. He was in a funk. His life, exciting and happening just a month ago, was starting to sound more and more like a soap opera.

With a heavy sigh, Jeff made the effort to take hold of the pen being offered him. Next, he blinked his eyes several times, trying to focus on the forms in front of him. The word Adoption jumped out at him. He blinked again.

Yup. There it is. You lying bitch! he hissed, flinging the pen aside. Anger gave him strength as he tore the papers up into little pieces.

Jeff knew the system. Hell he grew up in the system. Granted, newborn babies tended to get snatched up right away, but that didn’t quell his anger and hatred.

Some nice social worker tells you you’re going to be adopted when the reality is you’re going to some hell-hole of a foster home, he thought angrily.

His breathing was ragged as memories, most of them bad, raced and pinged through his mind.

My baby … MY baby … Amy might have left him, but be damned if he’d lose his daughter too. A tangled mess of emotions ran through him. All of a sudden, his life didn’t seem so bleak.

Just like that, Jeff was out of his funk and, more than anything in the world, he wanted to see his daughter. The papers in shreds in his lap, he glowered at the nurse. She grinned evilly back at him. There was an air of smugness about her. Jeff’s heart lurched in his chest.

I’ve been tricked? he thought, incredulous.

It’s about damn time, young man. Welcome back. Are you ready to get off that scrawny backside of yours and go see your little girl? The nurse cocked an eyebrow at him.

Oh yeah, I’ve been conned. A dry bark of laughter shot from his mouth.

You’re unreal, Jeff muttered. He laughed again, softer this time. Yeah. I’m ready to go see her. I guess I should eat something too, huh?

Might be a good idea. I’d offer you up some of my take-out, but you haven’t eaten anything solid in a month. You’re stuck with the swill this place offers up until your stomach can handle more. That all right with you? the nurse asked. Her name tag read Ramona.

I’ll do what I have to, I guess, he answered on a sigh as she turned to leave. He called her back. Hey, Ramona? She half-turned toward him in the doorway, that same dark eyebrow arched again. This time her expression clearly said, Yeah, what? He offered up a weak smile. Thanks for waking me the hell up. I was - uh - throwing in the towel.

The admission earned him an unladylike snort as she left the room. That noise did more to make Jeff feel like the cry-baby he’d been acting like than anything else. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face in an effort to break up some of his mental cobwebs then slid his legs over the side of the bed. The bar had been left down so he could get up easily.

Unfortunately, standing proved to be tougher than he would have liked. His legs felt like rubber after a month of not using them. His efforts to remain upright had also the room spinning violently. If not for the fact his stomach was completely empty, he would have thrown up all over the floor.

Jeff was about to turn and reach for the call button when warm, rough hands lifted his arm, draping it around a set of shoulders. Everything steadied slowly as he leaned heavily into the person helping him. When his vision cleared, he saw Ramona had returned.

I’m glad to have lit a fire under your scrawny self but you could have waited until I came back with your food, she muttered. Let’s get you cleaned up. You don’t want to be scaring your precious angel with the ugly mug you got on right now.

***

Jeff pored over the baby name book one of the nurses lent him. The pages were dog-eared and worn from use by other parents unable to decide on names for their babies. He’d been reading through it for two days now and was no closer to choosing one than on the first day.

He and Amy had decided on names for both a boy and a girl, but he liked neither of them. Now that she was out of the picture, the burden of what his baby girl would be saddled with for the rest of her life fell on his shoulders.

As far as responsibilities went it was minor, and yet he felt as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Jeff didn’t want to give her something which would get her teased and bullied as she grew older. Unfortunately, his warped mind found the twisted ugly side to every name that jumped out at him.

She was so tiny and perfect, with ten little toes and all of her fingers and both thumbs. He couldn’t believe hands and feet could be so small. Jeff stared at her in wonder and fear as his mind strayed from names to a serious case of self-doubt.

What the hell did he know about parenting? Sure, he remembered his parents. They were great. He was seven when they died though. He didn’t have the benefit of their wisdom and strength as a teen and beyond. His tiny, beautiful doll stirred as he panicked. She started to fuss, as if his staring so much bothered her.

Sorry angel, he whispered, tearing his gaze away. He looked around at all of the other bassinets filled with babies with all manner of tubes and gadgets attached to them. Every time he saw them, relief washed over him that his daughter wasn’t so extremely premature as to require that much help.

As it was, she’d gained enough weight she was being sent home in the morning. Despite being born three weeks early, she was fully developed and doing very well. One of the doctors Jeff spoke with suspected Amy’s due date had been incorrectly calculated. This didn’t give him any warm fuzzy feelings because that put the baby’s conception to a week or two before he and Amy even met.

Jeff glanced again at the name book on his lap and scowled. He’d been so full of ideas before she was born. All of a sudden nothing seemed to fit. He liked Ariel and Elizabeth, but pictured The Little Mermaid and Elizabeth Marlow, from his graduating class in high school.

His daughter was neither a redhead nor a brunette. What little fuzz she had on her head was black as night. He wondered where on earth she’d gotten that from. Amy was a strawberry blonde and his hair was light brown. Once again, he recalled the doctor’s comments about Amy’s due date. He was pondering this when the NICU nurse approached.

Everything okay, Mr. Ames? she asked quietly.

The words paternity test almost slipped past his lips. The only thing stopping him was the fact he happened to look down at his baby before turning to the nurse. She was staring at him through the clear plastic wall of the bassinet with a piercingly focused gaze. Then, as if reading his thoughts, her little face scrunched and she let out a wail.

Nothing the nurse did would calm her. Jeff watched helplessly as the woman tried to soothe with no success. As the seconds ticked by and the baby became increasingly upset, Jeff found he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Here. Let me, he told the frazzled nurse. The woman gave him a look which clearly said, And what do you think you can do? He snarled at