The Lie That Traps (Lies and Truths Book 1)

8. Gulliver

GULLIVER

Abark of bitter laughter bursts from my lips as Penelope saunters down the stairs, all arrogant confidence and grace, so different from the aura that’s emanating from the girl at my side. I take a second to stare at her as she approaches, then look down at Izabella. They’re absolutely identical. Same height, same face, same body, even down to the same hairstyle and makeup. The only difference between them is their body language, which is the polar opposite from each other.

“Penelope,” I say in greeting when she sees me standing next to her twin.

Her lips part, but before she can say anything, I interrupt. “So, you have a twin, an identical twin?”

“Perhaps we should go to the sitting room. It’s a little more civilized than out here in the foyer,” Mrs. Rhodes purrs, all familiar cordiality.

Penelope glides over to me, pushing herself between me and her sister, and she slides her arm through mine and pulls me along beside her. For a few steps, I let her guide me, until I realize that Izabella isn’t following us, in fact, she’s walking in the other direction toward the stairs.

“Izabella,” I call.

Her feet stop moving, but she doesn’t turn to look at me.

“Don’t worry about her. She doesn’t need to be involved,” Mrs. Rhodes says dismissively, like her other daughter is a nonentity that can be completely ignored.

“The hell she doesn’t,” I snarl. “I want her in there with us while you explain what the hell is going on and why I had no idea that you have two children.”

Mrs. Rhodes sighs like I’m being an irritating child. “Fine. Izabella.”

“I’ll just get changed out of my uniform,” Izabella says, her voice quiet and meek.

“If you’re not back down here in five minutes, I’m going to come looking for you,” I snap, annoyed that she’s leaving and honestly not at all convinced that I’ll ever see her again if I let her go.

Penelope tuts in annoyance, then doubles her efforts to move me out of the hallway and into the sitting room. But my eyes are focused on Izabella as she silently darts away. When she’s out of view, I extricate myself from Penelope’s touch and stride into the sitting room, lowering myself into a chair facing the door.

I’m amazed that neither Penelope nor Mrs. Rhodes look even remotely flustered about the fact that I just found out there’s another Rhodes daughter that no one knows about. The more I think about it, the more shocked I am that I didn’t know. Izabella was at school today, and so was Penelope. I’m fairly certain that Penelope was in chemistry and that she was the one I walked to the nurse’s office with, so why was Izabella there? Is she a student too? If she is, how the hell did I not realize there were two of them? Does everyone else know, and I’m the only one in the dark?

A thousand questions circle through my thoughts, but the more I think about it, the more certain I am that I was not aware of Izabella’s existence, and neither is anyone else.

“Can I get you a drink, Gulliver?” Mrs. Rhodes asks me brightly.

“No, thank you,” I say shortly. “I think your time might be better spent explaining what the fuck is going on.”

She titters nervously, and I’m pleased to finally see some kind of reaction from her. “Darling, there’s really nothing to explain. Izabella is Penelope’s sister.”

“I gathered that,” I say acerbically. “That doesn’t explain why, until today, I had no idea Penelope had a sister, let alone an identical twin.”

“My sister is an introvert. She doesn’t enjoy company,” Penelope sneers as she sits primly on the couch, clad in a form-fitting white dress and black Louboutin sky-high pumps.

As I’m about to respond, the door silently opens, and Izabella enters. A breathy, silent laugh falls from my parted lips as she pads into the room in bare feet, fitted jeans with rips at the knees, and a baggy white T-shirt that’s cropped just above the waist, showing an inch of bare flesh above her jeans. Her hair has been pulled up into a ponytail on the top of her head, and her face is bare of any makeup.

My cock twitches beneath my school pants, and I tilt my head to the side, shaking it slightly as I take in the girl who’s so similar yet so incredibly different from her sister. “Hello, Izabella,” I say, noting the way she doesn’t even glance at her mom or sister.

“Hello, Gulliver,” she says quietly, taking a seat on the empty couch, curling into the corner, and pulling her legs up beneath her.

I’d suspected it, but seeing her now, I’m confident that it was Izabella who had dinner with us on Friday, not her sister. “It was you who came to our house for dinner on Friday, wasn’t it?” I ask her.

Her eyes dart to her mom, then her sister, before moving back to me. “No,” she says. “I was here on Friday night; I’ve never been to your house.”

“Bullshit,” I snap angrily. Pushing out of my chair, I move to the center of the room, positioning myself so I’m standing over Izabella. Staring at her intently, I wait for her to admit the truth, but she just looks back at me, her eyes giving nothing away. Spinning around, I smile at Penelope. “What did we do after dinner on Friday?”

Her echoed smile is innocence personified. “We went for a stroll around the gardens.”

“And what did we talk about?”

“Not much, you ignored me for the most part,” she says smugly.

“What else did we do? What did I call you?” I ask, taking a step closer to her.

She falters, and I have to say she’s an impressively good actor. “You made some inappropriate suggestions that I’d rather not talk about.”

Smiling, I chuckle softly. “Before that. What did we do before my inappropriate suggestions?”

She parts her lips, glances at her mom, then to Izabella.

“You have no idea, do you? Come now, it was only three days ago. Surely you can’t have forgotten in that short space of time,” I taunt.

“For goodness’ sake,” Mrs. Rhodes sighs. “Fine, Penelope was ill on Friday night, so Izabella stepped in and took her place. Penelope was worried you’d think she didn’t want to go if we canceled.”

I scoff. “And how many times has Izabella stepped in?” I drawl condescendingly.

“That was the first time,” Izabella says quietly. “I’ve never pretended to be my sister at an event before.”

Turning around, I take a step away from Penelope and move closer to Izabella again. It’s eerie how identical they are. “Why don’t I know you?” I ask.

Her eyes widen, and she looks at her mom again as if she needs someone to tell her what to say.

“Do you go to GAA?”

“Yes,” she replies.

“Then why don’t I know you? Why, if we’ve been at the same school for the last three-and-a-half years, don’t I know you?” I demand, my voice getting louder as frustration fills me.

“Surely you don’t know every single senior?” Penelope says drolly.

Looking over my shoulder, I glare at her. “Not every single senior, no, but I’d sure as shit know if there was a set of identical twins. That’s not something that goes unnoticed.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Gulliver!” Penelope snaps, her holier-than-thou tone instantly pissing me off. “I have a twin sister. It’s not some big conspiracy. We’re both students at GAA, but my sister is a loner. She doesn’t have friends and chooses not to attend social events. That’s hardly a crime. I’m sorry she came to your house on Friday. She insisted, and honestly, I just didn’t want to be rude and cancel. It’s the first time we’ve ever done it, and I promise it won’t happen again.” Turning, Penelope addresses her sister for the first time. “Izabella, you can run back upstairs. You look positively terrified, and I’m sure Gulliver isn’t that much of a brute that he can possibly want to interrogate you just for being a weirdo recluse.”

As if she‘s a servant being dismissed, Izabella climbs up from her seat and turns to leave. Before I can question what I’m doing, I step in front of her. “Goodbye, Izabella.”

“Goodbye, Gulliver,” she says, holding my gaze for a second too long.

Reluctantly, I step aside to let her go. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much that she’s leaving, but I don’t have any reason to force her to stay. Sighing, I twist around and watch as she gracefully pads across the room, unable to look away until the door closes behind her.

It takes me a moment to turn back around, and when I do, I’m startled by the sight of Penelope and her mother sitting calmly side by side on the couch. Penelope looks so much like her sister that it feels like a trick for her to be here when I just watched her go. But despite how alike they look, it almost feels too easy to tell them apart. Nothing about Penelope is appealing to me, yet Izabella is like a siren luring me in.

Neither Penelope nor Trudy look even slightly affected by anything that’s been revealed today and that only makes me more suspicious. The Rhodeses have two daughters, yet I’m confident that no one knows. What the hell is going on? It seems clear to me that they’ve deliberately kept Izabella a secret, but is it because, like they said, she simply likes to keep to herself, or is it something more?

“I should be getting home,” I announce.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Trudy coaxes in a Mrs. Robinson style, seductive voice.

“No, thank you,” I say, trying to sound polite, but really just needing to get the hell out of this house and away from the grimy feeling that settled over me when I saw how terrified Izabella was to be here.

“Let me call Mark, and he can drive you home if you’re sure you can’t stay,” Mrs. Rhodes offers, rising from her chair and smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt.

“That’s okay. I texted my driver on the way here. He’s waiting outside for me,” I say, already moving toward the door.

The click of heels and the cloying scent of vanilla engulfs me at the same time Penelope wraps herself around me and presses her lips to my ear. “I know what you said to my sister on Friday, what you asked her to do. We could go up to my room and I could show you what you wanted,” she purrs, her hand sliding seductively down my chest toward my dick.

A surprised laugh falls from my lips. “Did she tell you that I called you a whore and told her that I’d never marry you, no matter how pretty and untouched your cunt might be? Jesus, what else do I have to do to make you understand? I’m not interested, Penelope, and I never fucking will be.” Prying her hands off me, I move her to the side, ignoring her shriek of outrage and leave, letting myself out of the front door.