Calling You Out, Part Two (Lovers and Liars #3)

Chapter 1

Dom

Ilooked out the small window above the kitchen sink of my flat as I mindlessly stirred a huge pot of chilli.

I’d tried talking to Harry for the past three days. Calling him, texting him, all from my own phone. And I got absolutely nothing.

But Molly? Well, he was wide open for Molly. In fact, all he wanted to do was talk to Molly. There had been a constant stream of messages asking her to phone him again, wanting to connect, telling her how much he wanted to hear her voice. Over and over again until I thought I would scream.

Because it seriously hurt.

It was ridiculous. I full on went for it and I know I didn't imagine him clasping me, giving himself to me as I ground against him. I'd replayed it so many fucking times in my head that all I could hear was his breathy moans and feel the imprint of his body against mine.

Shit, I wanted to know how far he would have gone with me, what else he would have told me if we'd had space.

Are you going to make me say it?

That's what I was fixed on. He wanted me enough that if Darcy had been only a minute later, I would have really tasted him.

I should have just gone to him the night before. Forced him down on the bed and sucked his tender cock until he told me how he really felt.

10/10 best friend material.

I used to admire how Sally shut off that part of herself that actually gave a shit when she ran a con, because feeling anything right now was a fucking nightmare.

I’d been cooking for hours, trying to think of a way I could ambush Harry with a decent meal and a proper conversation.

I could usually bring him some food and he would forgive me for whatever I’d done, but I doubted chilli was going to make up for the fucking cavern I'd dug myself into.

I lifted the spoon to my mouth, sampling the swirl of beef and beans.

I’d got the tang right, but it needed a touch more heat.

Harry didn’t like hot food, but he’d bulk it out with more salad and tacos if I added too much spice.

Then I’d get to watch him struggle as he ate, spreading sauce all over his chin, dropping onto his shirt, while he grinned with a blush as he cleaned himself up.

I dipped my head forwards as I reached for the chilli flakes on my right.

I was so fucking gone; it was mental.

A buzz from the kitchen table sounded, and I turned around to see my phone flashing to life. I left the spoon in the pot and swiped up the phone.

Just a simple text:

Tammy: Missing you.

My heart thudded with a quick beat.

If my sisters were texting, it meant they felt safe enough to get the phone out of its hiding place in their room. I didn’t want to miss a chance to talk to them.

I pressed dial instantly, my breaths short.

I bought them a secret phone just in case something ever happened with their parents.

It only took two rings before the screen burst to life and I was met with the faces of my twin sisters, grinning at me from their pink bedroom. Lying on their stomachs, legs bent up in the air, happily kicking their heels. Tammy was painting her nails while Janie held the phone.

“Ladies.” I bowed my head at the monsters beaming back at me. “How are we?”

“Nice apron, loser,” Tammy said the moment I adjusted the screen so my chest was in view.

Tammy was the younger twin, and the cheekier of the two.

Sally had found a kindred spirit in their scumbag of a father, and a year later the twins were born.

By that age I was studying a law book, along with Maths, English, and everything else a normal teenager was meant to be focused on.

I glanced down before shooting her a smirk. “Are you jealous of my sexy apron?” Harry had bought it for me as a joke. White, covered in yellow ducklings, and disgustingly cute.

“Gross.” She scrunched her nose. “No. Get over yourself.”

Both of them had the same blonde hair and light blue eyes as me and Sally. I had my dad’s height and build, whereas they took after Terry and were stockier; plus, they still had their baby faces.

“We’re going out later. You didn’t have to phone.” Janie pouted, flouncing her hair.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Who else is going to tell you about all the crazy people I’ve met this week?”

They both perked up instantly. “No way! You were at another one of those parties?”

“Yeah, it was a brunch first, then a yacht party. You remember the ones I told you about?” Though I never told them that the brunches were religiously scheduled on the same day and time every month, just in case they let it slip to Sally.

I told myself that Fischer security would never let Sally through the front door.

But if there was any positive thing I could say about my mum, it was that she was tenacious.

“Ugh,” Tammy groaned, “now I’m really jealous.”

“Are you sure you can’t take us?” Janie’s eyes widened hopefully. “We swear we’ll be good!”

“I’m sure you’d be angels, but the guest list is usually full.” And I wasn’t going to thrust them into the social politics and bullshit gossip of the Fischer brunches.

“Oh my God, Dom, did you get another autograph?” Janie's eyes sparkled, hope filling her face.

I shook my head, smiling back at them. Bunny was an idol to them, a total obsession, and all of their friends agreed. Not only for being cute and ‘popular’, but because the girls loved the way Bun kicked off and caused drama.

I rolled my eyes when I walked into their room years ago to find a life-size poster of Bunny in her grungy ‘punk look’ when she was engaged to Max, Cat’s husband, before Bun’s music career really kicked off.

I wasn’t going to burst their bubble by telling them how she was in real life, but I’d heard enough gushing from the both of them that I’d come close.

“You don't need any more.” I'd had Bunny sign things for them over the years. I sent them periodically for special occasions instead of drowning them with presents all at once when I found out our mum sold them off as soon as she got her hands on them.

“Wait, does that mean you had lunch with Bunny Collins?” Tammy’s jaw dropped and she paused painting her nails to meet my eyes.

“Yeah, we were at the same party and hung out for the evening last week,” I said, leaving out that we both got so drunk that she started crying about being too awesome to find someone to match her. Which was actually hilarious, considering how annoying she could be.

“She’s off to Italy to record her next music video, so I won't see her for a month or two.”

“Oh my God, then who else? Who else was there?”

“Hmmm…let’s see…Well, Jazz was away, but Max Rider, Damien Priestly, Mallory Fischer—”

The two of them bounced around and started babbling like they always did when I told them about those things.

I grinned as I watched them. That was the part of them I wanted to preserve. They deserved to be real teenagers and get the childhood that I didn’t. Sally had left off teaching them the same tricks as me, but it didn’t mean they were immune to her schemes.

Even if it were the same people I saw every month at those events, their excitement made it better.

Though I probably had to make the best of it.

I doubted Harry would reveal the details to anyone as soon as I was discovered, but when Molly returned, I’d be booted off of every guest list in the country.

“What are you two screeching about?” The door slammed open, their video screen shaking as Terry shouted across the room.

The girls instantly froze, and I caught a look of fear from Janie before Tammy slipped the phone behind her back.

“We-we were just messing around,” Janie stuttered.

“I’m unpacking the shopping, so shut the fuck up.” His voice was gravely from years of smoking and drinking, and spending his entire life pissed off. “Don’t you have homework to do or something?”

I tried to keep calm. We all knew how he got. As long as they didn’t provoke him, he’d keep his anger to himself.

“What’s that? Is that a fucking phone!?” he yelled, stumbling toward them. Janie screamed, and there was a thud. I grabbed the side of the kitchen counter, forcing myself not to snap back. I couldn’t do anything from where I was, and it would take me five hours to get to them if they needed me.

Suddenly, the screen blurred until my stepdad’s ugly face swam into view.

“Well hello, Terry,” I said, my upper lip curling, holding back the pure rage running through me. The simple fact he'd shouted at them gave me enough cause to go up there and beat the shit out of him. That aspect of him was never going to change.

“Dom, my son, how are you?” If he thought I didn’t notice the way he softened like butter the moment he saw me, then he was a fucking idiot.

“I’m fine, Terry. How have you been? You’re looking healthy, as usual.”

He was such a greasy piece of shit. He rarely shaved, had sallow skin, a massive nose, and beady eyes.

He was balding on top, and usually wore stained t-shirts and jeans, splattered with some kind of sauce.

He had the same soulless look I saw in clients who knew they were heading straight to jail for the rest of their lives.

“Well, we’re up and down, of course. The girls are doing good, aren’t you?” His voice took on an edge as he glared down at them.

I didn’t see their faces, but this had been going on for long enough that I knew my sisters would be nodding away. It was less hassle to agree with him to avoid his outbursts.

He never hurt them, but sometimes he would lock them in their room for a day or two, or shout at them until they were shaking messes.

But the police didn’t believe me for a second, not with Sally there to back Terry up when his face was black and blue from my fists.

And that was also the main reason my sisters weren't allowed phones.

I'd told them to record him if something bad ever happened. I'd beaten Terry before for scaring them, and that was enough of a threat to keep him away from them.