Thank you @awesome4evah for the beautiful cover.

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Started With a Lie – Chapter Twenty

It’s warm.

            For chilly mornings of spring, it sure is hot. But it’s a nice kind of hot. Not humid or burning hot, but cool hot. I feel warmth and comfortable. I curl my body into a smaller ball and enjoy this strange once-in-a-lifetime sensation. I flip over to my right side to get to the good side of the pillow. My hand brushes against a cold solid.

          Did I hit the nightstand?

               I reach for my phone. Why hasn’t my alarm woken me up yet? Where is Mom? All I get in return is something hard. It’s smooth. When was my table so smooth? I slap my hand around for some sort of recognition of my nightstand while my eyes remain closed.

              “Stop it.”

               Who’s that? I open my eyes slowly. Did my nightstand just talk to me? I need some more sleep before I think my pillow’s talking to me. But I should find my phone to see what time it is. I don’t want to be late for school.

              “Can you please stop?”

              There it is again. I must be in the half-dream-half-awake state. Or drunk. But I don’t recall drinking anything last night so I go with the other choice. I ignore my nightstand’s complaints and spread my fingers over, knowing my phone’s here somewhere. If I open my eyes, it’ll ruin my chance of sleep again.

            “Okay, this is just absurd, Miss Ivory. Please stop.”

             Miss Ivory? What? Is my nightstand taking over Lee’s voice or…. My eyes snap open and right into Lee’s forearm—his muscular forearm. And then my eyes travel to his tired face…and down to his naked torso. I scream.

                Lee jolts up, covering his ears. “Will you stop that noise, please?”

              I jolt up too and yell, “What are you doing here?” My eyes travel to his abs on my own. I blush. “And why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” I’ve never seen him so naked and exposed before. I look away. “Put on a shirt!”

             Suddenly, I feel a hand on my wrist. I scream again. It’s Mark, his eyes half-open and his hair messy as can be. “Why are you screaming so early in the morning?” he mumbles before falling back onto his pillow. His torso is naked as well. My eyes linger on his hard eight-pack before looking at the quilt.

            “Why is everyone naked?” I yell. And since when did businessmen work out? Did they even have time? Why do they all have abs? It must be because they’re billionaires. “Can you all put on a shirt?”

             I hear Mark softly snoring back into his slumber and Lee just staring at me with blank eyes. What the hell happened? The sunlight is shining through the windows. Why am I in my mother’s room? And then I remember last night. Wait, but why are there—

             Ding-dong!

            Who would be at the door? Mom’s in the hospital and our family doesn’t really visit. They usually just send a handful of cash with a card reading ‘Happy Birthday!’ and that’s it. Mailmen usually just leave the mail in the mailbox since we almost never order packages.

          “Get the door,” I tell Lee.

              “Me?” he says, pointing to himself like I accused him of great crime.

            “No,” I say, “I’m talking to the freaking lamp.”

            Lee looks over to the lamp on the nightstand next to him. It’s a floral patterned lamp—one of Mom’s favorites. He turns his gaze back to me, his eyebrow arched. “Why would you talk to a lamp? That’s simply—”

           “I’m being sarcastic, genius!”

              His eyebrows knit even more. “Oh,” he says. He crosses his arms. “I knew that.” His muscles flex and I have to pry my own eyes away before he catches me staring. “Why should I get the door anyways? It’s your house. Why don’t you go open it?”

           “Just do it!” I demand, crossing my own arms. It seems that I’m the only sane person in the bed—also the only dressed one for that matter. My thoughts travel back to Lee’s abs but I catch and turn them around before they can get further. “Go open the door.”

                “No, why don’t you.”

             “Open the fucking door, Lee.”

             “Don’t curse at me, you little woman with—”

               I seemed to be so busy arguing with the stupid and arrogant Lee that I didn’t realize that the doorbell had stopped. I also didn’t realize someone was standing at the door. Someone I hadn’t seen for a long while.

              My eyes widen. “Brent?!” I jump out of the bed, a grin etched onto my face. “Brent, it really is you!” I run and jump on him into a big bear hug. My brother is here. I haven’t seen him ever since he left for college this year. He could be a real jackass but he really isn’t so bad. He’s actually quite okay. “What are you doing here?!”

         I feel Brent hugging me back. He pulls me away. His face is blank—not a trace of a smile or even any emotion. “What are you doing, Ivory?”

             My eyebrows press together in confusion. “What do you mean?” Brent’s eyes wander behind me where the two (naked) men are, still inside the bed. Mark is rubbing his eyes open as Lee stares at Brent. Now that I think about it, it must’ve looked really awkward in Brent’s eyes. “Oh! Them. Oh, this is not how it looks! I wasn’t doing anything, I swear!” Brent’s face questions me. “How about you head down to the kitchen? I’ll fix you up a coffee. I’ll explain. I promise.”

             Brent stares for a few minutes at everything before nodding. “Fine.” He readjusts his duffel bag on his arm before lugging away to the kitchen downstairs. When I hear him step off the stairs, I close the door.

              “You two need to go!” I tell Lee and Mark. I pick up their clothes, which they rudely decided to throw on the floor. Throwing their clothes at their faces, I start fixing the bed. “Get up, get up!”

          Mark sluggishly gets out of bed. Lee is already on his toes, putting his pants and shirt on. He throws on his watch on his wrist and does his tie—looking sophisticated and calm. Mark on the other hand is still trying to stand up. They were so contradicting to each other.

               While Mark finally gets his ass moving, Lee pulls me to the corner of the room, holding my elbow in a death grip. “Who was he?”

                “Who was who?”

               “That guy.”

                 “Oh,” I say. “That’s Brent.”

                Lee’s eyes darken and his grip tightens but it doesn’t hurt. His voice is barely a whisper before he says, “Brent who?”

               Why did he sound so angry? And demanding? I don’t have to tell him anything. Because after all, none of this is his business. He’s just a stalker and a weird rich man that uses girls for his lonely stupid life. “None of your business.” I snag my arm away and go pull the covers up on Mom’s bed. I don’t need Lee telling me what I should tell him and what I shouldn’t. I run my life.

             I’m an independent woman who does just fine.

                 Mark finally finishes putting on his clothes.

                 “Let’s go, Mark,” I say, gesturing to the door. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear Brent making clank noises. As sexist as it is, Brent was never meant for the kitchen and still isn’t. I remember one time he had decided to make Mom a cake for Mother’s Day. He nearly burned down our house, along with Mom and I in it. In the end, Mom had to pay extra for damages and we ended up spending the day in a motel while workers got our kitchen renovated.

             “Where is the goddamn coffee?” Brent asks me when he sees me. He closes the current cabinet he’s opened. “What the hell, man. It’s like the coffee is frickin’ gold.” He opens up another cabinet and only groans.

                “Just sit down,” I say, shaking my head. Brent walks around and sits at the island. He looks over to Mark, standing shyly behind me. Before he can say anything, I say, “This is Mark. Don’t touch him. I’ll explain everything in a minute.”

              Mark slowly takes a seat next to Brent, who just glares at Mark with his dark eyes. I get the coffee from the pantry and make four cups of coffee—one for each of us. Lee finally decides it’s a great idea to join us because he walks in, his hair a styled mess, and takes a seat next to Mark.

           I hand them all their coffees and stand before them. “Okay, Brent. I know what you saw, but this is not what it looks like. These are my—,” I look around at Mark and Lee, “…friends.” I take sip of my coffee.

               Brent stares at me. “And they were in Mom’s bed with you, why?”

               “That, I actually don’t know,” I answer honestly. I remember falling asleep alone and dreaming of a random kiss, but I don’t remember anyone sleeping with me. I look between Mark and Lee. “Any ideas how you both got there?”

                Nobody answers.

             “Where’s Mom?” Brent asks suddenly. I first look at him, confused. Why would he ask that? He obviously knows where Mom is. And then I realize he doesn’t. Because I didn’t tell him. I should’ve told him yesterday right when it happened. It must’ve slipped my mind. Even though it was tough taking in everything going on, I could’ve at least called my own frickin’ brother.

                 I dodge the question. “Before that, I want to introduce you to them.” I gesture my hand to Mark. “This is Mark. He lives next door—just moved in. He’s a great friend.” I move on to Lee. “This is Lee, um, an acquaintance.” Lee glares. “He doesn’t really live in this town….” Brent takes a sip of his coffee. I can’t read his expression. He knows something is up. I gesture my hand to my brother. “And this is Brent, my brother.”

                  Lee’s shoulders relax from their tense position. His eyes are softer now. Mark has a small smile and shakes hands with my brother—all friendly. “Nice to meet you, Brent,” Mark says.

         “You too,” Brent says with suspicious eyes. He turns his head back to me. “You want to explain how you got to be friends with some twenty-year old guys? They could be secret sex offenders for all we know.” He goes back to his coffee, prying his hand away from Mark. “Where’s Mom?”

               I feel cold sweat on my back. I should’ve told him before. He’s going to kill me, now. “They’re not sex offenders,” I say, adding in a fake laugh at the end to make it sound comedic. “Meeting them is a long story.”

       “Like maybe saying you’re a couple with one of them?” Brent asks, his eyes twinkling. He knows he’s hit the jackpot.

                   “H-how’d you know?” I ask, hiding my open mouth behind my mug.

                  “You really aren’t the brightest fish in the sea,” Brent mutters. “There’s something called the internet. News. Media. Ever heard of it? What the hell happened that you randomly got boyfriend-girlfriend with a frickin’ world class billionaire?”

          I stare down at my coffee. I can’t tell him this either. Not with Mark in the room. He can’t know. He’s not supposed to know. In the contract—the one I’ve almost forgotten of—it said that I couldn’t tell anyone outside of people Lee and I both agree on. It kills to keep a secret from my brother. “We were in love,” I whisper.

               Brent looks taken back. “Really, now?” His eyes flicker down. He’s confused. He knows I haven’t dated ever since the Karen-Peter incident. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here, then. College is tight.”

           I feel guilty. He feels guilty for not being here and yet I’m the one who’s been hiding so much from him. For forgetting him.

                 “Does Mom approve of Lee?”  Brent asks. Why is he making this so hard?

               “Well, we’re not really together right now,” I say, which is true. I see Lee fidget in his seat and turn away. Coward. Mark has no reaction. He’s just staring at his coffee and drinking it. I don’t know what to feel.

             “Ivory. Where. Is. Mom?” Brent asks. He’s caught on completely.

             “Er, she’s, um,” I stutter. Brent’s eyes are storming, trying to decipher what I’m hiding—what I’m not telling him. I can’t go on anymore. “She’s in the hospital.” My voice barely passes a whisper, I bet.

               “She’s what?” Instead of sounding angry, Brent sounds broken. It hurts even more.

             Lee nudges Mark and whispers something incoherent before they both leave and go sit in the living room. I silently thank them for the privacy, but it doesn’t help. Brent’s up and walking around the kitchen—back and forth, back and forth. It’s scaring me.

         “What happened?” he demands.

            Tears streak my cheeks as I explain the accident, what happened, what kind of condition she’s in right now. I tell him everything. How much it hurts. How much I miss her already. Brent listens. He pats my back. He hugs me. I haven’t showered since Mom’s accident. I smell, but he still hugs me. I’m dirty and I’m the worst sister, but he still loves me.

               “Why didn’t you call me?” is all he whispers.

                “I’m sorry,” I cry. I think he understands through my sobs. “I forgot. Mom. I thought she was dying. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost. I’m sorry, Brent. I’m really sorry.”

           Brent just holds me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I came today because your birthday is coming up. I’m sorry I didn’t check up on you sooner.”

           “It’s fine, Brent,” I whisper. “Thank you for being here now.”

*                  *               *            *              *                 *              *

Later that day, Brent adjusts to his old room in the basement—his “den”—and I decide not to go to school for this week. I just don’t think I should be focusing on other things. What if Mom wakes up? I have to be there for her as soon as she does. It’s the least I can do as her daughter. Also, why not skip out on an opportunity to not see people from school? Peter’s still mad.

            Brent makes calls to anyone we have left and he calls insurance for Mom. He makes sure they’ll keep supplying her at the hospital with everything she needs. We refused for Lee to take care of all of the bills.

            “So, your birthday’s coming up?” Lee asks as I flip through the channels on television. Both him and Mark refuse to leave even though my own brother is here now. Mark is in the shower and Lee is sitting awfully too close to me.

            “So, you were eavesdropping?”

            “Can’t help if I do have some fine hearing,” he retorts, taking the remote. I let out a cry but he ignores it—just like usual. “What do you want to do?”

            I stare at him. He stares back. “I don’t think it’s a time to be celebrating my birthday. There are more important matters right now. There’s always next year.”

            “Not every day you turn…”

            “You don’t even know my age!” I yell, crossing my arms. And this is the guy that wants to celebrate my birthday. Lee could be so weird sometimes.

            “Of course, I do!” Lee rolls his eyes.

            “Yeah, okay.”

            Another voice interrupts. “Sorry, am I interrupting?” Mark is standing behind us, his hand ruffling a towel to his hair. He’s shirtless… of course. I stray my eyes way. I can’t help but think he looks attractive.

            When I look up, I realize why Mark asked if he was interrupting. Lee’s face was a good centimeter away from mine. I slowly back away before getting up and standing next to Mark. I rip the towel from his grip and throw it on his chest. “Why don’t you guys ever put your shirt on inside the house?”

            “We’re men,” Mark replies, smirking. He grins. “You should try it.”

            I playfully smack his arm and Mark laughs, earning another glare from Lee. If I could get a dollar for every dare he gave me in a day, I’d be richer than him and Mark combined. Lee seriously is bipolar. He goes from happy, to Mr. Cold guy, to angry 24/7.

            Ding-Dong!

            “Why don’t you guys stop flirting like weasels and go answer the door?” Lee suggests, his voice bitter. What’s up his ass today? I ignore his daggers shooting from his glare and warn Mark to cover up one time before I open the door. I gasp.

            What’s she doing here?

____

Thank you for reading and bearing with me. I know it's been quite a while. About a couple weeks, to be exact. I had exams. Ugh. They're finally kind-of over. So back to writing! I know this chapter isn't that long and things, but hope you enjoy it. Thank you for the messages of motivation. (Probably the most I've ever gotten because I'm a loser) 

Thank you for all the banners and fan love. I'm sorry, but I've recieved so many at a time and I've recently cleaned my inbox, so anyone who has anything for this story, please send them to me again? Thank you so much.

This lovely banner on the side is by @KimmieLollipop. Follow! 

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