Chapter 19 | Truce
Apparently, Jason was in a town outside of Los Angeles at a nightclub. Six weeks had gone by since his hospital stay and he had not contacted me. Police told me Jason did not want anything to do with me and they wouldn’t tell me where I could talk to him. And there was a lot that me and him needed to discuss. Like any other celebrity, I used Twitter to locate Jason.
The nightclub felt like a maze as I tried to find my way out. I hated social gatherings, so after two hours of waiting for him to arrive, I decided I would go home. The room was dark and blurry with tiny disco balls going across the ceiling. Some crazy man was throwing champagne all over the room, screaming at the top of his lungs. Some skinny model, which I recognized was dancing on a bar stool. A drunken woman grabbed my hand to dance with her. I pushed her away and she fell to the floor—probably high on drugs too. People kept on bumping me with their wild booty dancing. I felt trapped in a circle of lunatic dancers and crazy colored lights.
I held my breath as a woman with the size of ten Kim Kardashian butts came toward me. She bent down and bumped me with her butt to the floor. “Hey!” Like a small doll, I crashed down onto a man’s shiny shoes.
The man lent his hand out to help me. I looked up to see who it was, but all I saw was black.
“Thanks,” I put my hand in his and he pulled me to my feet—
“Lily?” The man snatched my shades off my face.
“Jason?” I pushed him into an open room behind us. “Jason, what are you doing here?”
“Me? What are you doing here?” he gasped. “You saw my Twitter post, didn’t you? Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have said I would be here.”
“Shut up! Shut it!” I closed the door and the loud chaos was gone. “We need to talk!”
Jason walked closer to me. “I wasn’t intending on running into you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I pulled out a pencil from my bra. “If you come any closer I will stab you!”
“Why?”
“I know everything.”
“Huh?”
“Paul told me everything.”
“He did?”
“Yup.”
“Everything.?”
“So, be a man and do it.”
“Do what?”
“Admit to hatching a plan against me. Admit you wanted to kill me for my money and run away with it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should start taking your medication. You’re losing it.”
“Don’t play dumb, Jason. I know everything.”
“Did it ever cross your mind that maybe Paul was lying because he is like obsessed with me? He blows up my phone all the time.”
I thought about the journal, with the hundreds of pictures of Jason. “I’ve seen pictures of you and him holding hands.”
“Ever heard of Photoshop? The dude is obsessed with me. When did you ever see me and him hang out together? We didn’t even talk.”
“You’re trying to say Paul is lying?”
“Yes!”
“Why would he lie?”
“To be with me. He probably thinks if you were dead, he would be with me.”
“So, this has nothing to do with money?”
“What money? You mean the cash I used for my taxes? I gave it back.”
“No, don’t you want my money?”
“No, I don’t want your money.”
I pinched my arm to make sure I was not dreaming. “I don’t know what to believe because Paul is in love with you.”
“See.”
“But, he wouldn’t lie. If he were to lie, he wouldn’t be part of the plan. He would make a better lie.”
“Psychos have their way. I swear, Lily I’m not trying to kill you. Whatever Paul told you is a lie,” Jason said as he walked out the room and back into the party.
As I tried to follow him through the crowds of people, Paul was calling my phone. I answered on the third ring—thinking of hanging up.
“Hello?” I said.
“Lilly, avoid Jason,” Paul said.
“Why?”
“Lilly, don’t be stupid. He texted me about how he will get you alone and just finish it.”
“I just spoke to him and he said you were lying.”
“Are you seriously going to believe him? You’ve known me longer.”
“I’ve lost your trust.”
“How would I know that Jason wants to end it?”
“What would he get out of that—nothing.”
“All your money! He has all your account info and can securely get it before anyone finds your dead body. Just come back home to the city.”
“I’m going to talk to him right now and he will explain everything—”
“I cannot believe you left Los Angeles without telling anyone you were going to find Jason. That is a bad idea.”
“What would you know about bad ideas?”
“Lilly, please. I was thinking and I realized how much I love you. Please don’t leave me.”
“Paul, I just talked to Jason. His hazel eyes could do no harm. I actually trust him now.” I paused at a table as Paul continued to cry over the phone. I felt something moving around in my handbag, so I sat it on a table and opened it up. What the hell? Black lily petals fell onto the table. Not here, please. More and more began to fall out so, I grabbed my wallet out and ran away from the table, leaving the bag there. “Oh my god.”
“Hello? Lily, are you drunk now? What is wrong?” Paul said.
“No, what do you want me to do?” I panicked. “Weird things keep happening to me.”
“Just come home right now and we will find a new detective.”
“I cannot come home right now. I’ve come too far.”
“I don’t approve of murder, but if you have to…do it before he does it to you—”
“I don't trust you, Paul!”
I hung up the phone as I approached Jason who was at the bar drinking some beer. As quick as I could, I scanned every part of his body. He looked healthy, as if he were never in the hospital. I traced his scar with my eyes and he looked back at me.
“Paul says you want me dead,” I whispered in his ear.
Jason rolled his eyes. “Can’t I just party in peace? I am so sick of this drama, Lilly. Why do you think I’ve been avoiding you for the last six weeks?”
“I know that you used him to get to me because of the Marlon hit-n-run. He told me about the video. I know that you want the over sixty million dollars I have.”
Jason stared at me with his mouth wide open and rolled his eyes
“Are you gonna say something?” I said as I snatched his drink from him. “Speak boy!”
He ignored me, with his eyes still on me.
“Say something!” I shouted.
“Wow, your feisty today,” he joked. “You finally grew a pair.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Don’t believe him. If he really was involved with the hit-n-run, he would have rather turned himself in, instead of being blackmailed by me,” Jason whispered in my ear. “He’s lying to you, doll. He is trying to drag me down with his bad deeds. He was probably poisoning you this whole time by himself. Did you ever think of that?”
Jason stared into space probably thinking if he should leave. I am sure he did not want to be in my presence, as I did not want to be in my own. I looked at his bruised face—the damage I did to him. I was surprised he was able to walk after everything he went through. I felt like vomiting because of all the pain I inflicted on him. How could I treat him as if he didn’t have feelings? What kind of sick person would hurt someone like that?
“I only love you, Lilly.”
I scooted closer to Jason and gave him a very tight hug. I felt up on every inch of his leather jacket, memorizing every lump and stitch. It was the first time in a long time that we actually hugged. He did not push me away or wrap his arms around me, but I think he liked it—he thought he was in control.
Jason stood up. “I’m going to go to the restroom and then we can go home, okay?”
“Um, okay,” I said as I watched him walk away to the restroom.
I looked over to the table where my bag was sitting and it seemed as if the petals were gone. However, when I scratched my arm, I could feel the loose skin sliding up. I did not want it to happen again. I did not want to see the black lilies again. I began to hyperventilate and drank down the hard liquor that Jason was drinking. Stay calm, Lily. Please do not scream. My phone rang again and I answered it immediately.
“What do you want, Paul?” I said over the phone.
“Don’t go with Jason,” he said.
“He said you’re lying to me.”
“Lilly, I will do anything to gain your trust back. Remember our discussion on love—how to do anything for love. That is why I am telling you this.”
I laughed, but still in panic mode, “Whatever, Paul.”
“I have a copy of the video Jason had against me. If I turn myself in for the Marlon case, would you believe me?”
“I probably would.”
“It would also mean that I love you and I would do anything, even if it means prison for your love and trust.”
“But, I know you won’t do it. I do not know who to believe. When I was with you, I believed you and when I was with Jason, I believed him.”
“I will turn myself in for you. Just please do not go with him. He just texted me, 'Plan in action' and to prepare your deathbed.”
“Jason was right, you’re obsessed with him.”
“I’m not obsessed with him. He is doing what he did to me to you. He has you brainwashed.”
“Paul, I know what I am doing. Have you ever wondered if I have a plan?” I smirked.
“No, because you don’t,” he snapped.
“Well, I do have a plan.”
“What is it?”
“It all depends on what I find out, goodbye Paul.” I hung up the phone and stared into the crowd of people dancing. Those people had no care in the world. That was the feeling I missed most.
Jason put his arms around me and lifted me to kiss him—like when we first dated. I grasped onto his jacket and held him tight. “Let’s go home, Lilly.”
I smiled and grabbed his hand. A storm of people ran up to us and blinded us with their flashes. I was in a daze, as Jason tried to get a taxi to pull over. It took him a few minutes until one stopped for us.
“Where are you guys headed?” the taxi driver said.
“Just take us to the café down on Avenue Y.”
“That’s near the desert,” I said. “Why can’t we just eat when we get back home?”
“I love their food at this café. They don’t make food like that in the city.”
“Okay,” the driver said and began to hum. “Come on, get in!”
Jason held my hand tightly in a dominating way as the streets began to get emptier as we were closer to our destination. I assumed he was ready to end the situation. I know I was. I just wasn’t sure how he wanted to end it—in hugs or tears. However, I knew exactly how I was going to end it because I knew my plan the moment we hugged.
The taxi driver turned on his radio. “…Marlon hit-n-run case has come to an end when celebrity assistant Paul Sanchez turned himself in an hour ago in California...” said the radio interviewer.
My eyes grew immense as I looked at Jason. A smiled formed on my face as I watched his expression turn from relaxed to shame. He licked his lips and I could see his heart beating through his chest. I yanked my hand from his as he began to blink rapidly.
“What?” Jason snapped at me.
“Paul wasn’t lying,” I said. “I was right.”
Jason pulled my hand tighter for me to shut up. “We need to talk about this first. I don’t want to go to prison.”
“Let go of my hand.” I yanked my hand from his grip and grabbed the car handle.
“Lilly, just calm down,” Jason said. “Do not do anything stupid. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“Don’t talk to me.” While the taxi was still in motion, I began to tug on the door handle.
Jason tried to hold onto my tight dress. “There are lots of people named Paul Sanchez…”
As the taxi slowed down for a yellow light, I swung open the cab door and ran out without looking back. I could barely breath as my heart raced with all its power.
“Hey!” yelled the driver. “Get back here!”
I looked back and Jason jumped out after me. “Lilly, come here!”
I did not slow down and continued to run between the vehicles. Car tires squeaked at a sudden halt and people yelled at us in a different language. One woman threw a water bottle toward Jason’s head. As I touched dirt, off the road, I continued to run through the empty desert.
In one second, Jason tackled me down to the dirt. I felt something pop inside me has his elbow crushed down into my gut. I tried to claw him but he was too strong. He pulled me to my feet, with his hand wrapped around the back of my neck.
“Stop it!” I elbowed him in the crotch and tried to run again.
“Don’t run from me, let me explain!” Jason shouted. “Get back here!” With little strength, he yanked me by my hair and threw me to the ground.
I crashed down headfirst but I did not give up. “Let me go!” Jason loosened his grip and I ran to a gate and hopped over it.
“You win.” Jason fell to the ground while looking at me on the other side of the gate.
“I win what?” I cried as I rubbed my scalp and felt a tiny bald spot.
He walked to the fence and put his body against it as I collapsed to the ground. “Everything!”
“I wasn’t playing a game.”
“You won either way,” he laughed. “We really need to talk about this.”
I pulled my shoes off and my feet were bleeding with blisters. “I can’t breathe right. I think you broke my rib.” I stretched out in the dirt trying to get my breathing back to normal. “There really isn’t anything to talk about. What, do you have a gun? Shot me now! I'm in so much pain.”
“I don’t have anything.” Jason turned his pants pockets inside out. “I swear, I wasn’t getting you alone to kill you.”
“I cannot believe anything you say.”
“You’re stupid though for coming with me,” he smiled. “I could easily kill you now. All I have to do is get on the other side of this gate and snap your neck. I can leave you here and I can be gone by morning with all your money. It’s that easy.”
My eyes narrowed. “I’m not that stupid.”
“Ha, I think otherwise. Then, why did you come with me?”
“Like I said, I’m not that stupid.”
“What did you have a plan or something?” he teased. “You have the cops on speed dial.”
“Hmm, we’ll see.”
It was quiet now and we could not hear a thing. No birds, not even crickets. I sat up wondering what time it was. I looked up at the dark sky and counted the stars—something so simple made me feel normal.
“I feel safer on this side of the gate. Maybe we can actually talk now. No lies,” I said. “One-hundred percent honesty.”
He began laughing. “What can we talk about?”
“What is so funny?” I found nothing I said funny.
“Really? I do.”
“Jason, speak! You’re driving me nuts with all this mystery!”
“I knew Paul from being your assistant,” Jason finally said.
“Hmm.”
“I used him…a little.”
“He’s in love with you,” I mumbled as I rubbed my scalp.
“I know. He obsesses over me. I wasn’t lying about that part. He got all mad when I told him I wasn’t even gay.”
“That explains more. Go on.”
“I’m the one who had to live in fear that you were going to murder me!” he shouted.
“Yeah, right,” I laughed.
“Paul doesn’t see
m like the type to murder though. He was too much of a wimp. So, don’t blame him,” Jason said. “Blame me.”
“Love can make some do crazy things.”
“Whatever.”
“Why?”
“I’ve done this before. It was never this hard though,” he snapped.
“I’m not like other women.”
“True.”
“Does Ana know about you?”
“Ana knew I had anger issues and she was afraid I would hurt you,” he muttered. “But, maybe Paul told her. But, she is so nosy, she probably found out herself.”
“I think she knows but doesn’t know how to put the pieces together.”
“Is she that stupid?”
“I guess so,” I laughed. “She is dumb, so why didn’t you go after Ana’s money instead?”
“I had nothing on her. With you, I had blackmail on Paul who could get me to you. He would do anything since I had him on film trying to cover his tracks on the hit-n-run.”
“I hope you feel good about yourself.”
“I don’t know why I do it. I’ve seen people get hurt in my life and you would think I would stop hurting others—I just can’t—I’m some kind of sociopath with no soul.”
“At least you admit it.”
“It’s odd. Sometimes I have feelings for people and sometimes I could care less. Like baby Simon…I care for him so much; and I love Savanna. I put our plan on halt so it wouldn’t harm Simon when you were pregnant.”
“Were you abused as a child or something?” I snapped. “Cause you’re insane.”
“Yeah, maybe sometimes but I saw a lot of it. It mainly happened to Jerry though.”
“Who abused him?”
“Uh, my dad.”
“You never talked about your dad,” I said, understanding it was a touchy subject for him. “I didn’t even know you had a dad.”
“Good, he is unworthy. He always told me that my brothers and I were worth nothing.”
“Honestly, how many brothers do you have?”
“Well, Jerry is my oldest biological brother. There were nine of us total.”
“Wow! So, your parents were family people?”
“Hell No! My dad didn’t give a damn about us. He just wanted the income from them. Four of them needed special care—he would take their money and buy meth with it and come home and beat on us.”
I did not know what to say. It was the first time he ever opened up to me in all honesty. I think it was the first time he ever opened up to anyone. I thought about ending the conversation there but I needed to know more.
“Yeah oh yeah, my mother, she had this college fund for Jerry and me. My jerk ass of a father goes into it and leaves only two dollars in there. By that time, Jerry was in his third year of college and I was a seventh grader. My mom freaked when she found out. It was the worst thing he had ever done. I remember that day clearly, as if it were yesterday. My mother worked her ass off to save that college fund money.”
“Continue, continue, please,” I said.
“Well, my mom walked in and began yelling at him. By then my dad was drunk on the couch. She couldn’t believe he took the money—”
“That sounds familiar,” I muttered and he glared at me. “Sorry, go on.”
He rolled his eyes and continued talking. “Yeah, so, she was like ‘Jerry has one more year until he graduates and you do something so stupid! And what about Jason?’ I remember her beautiful face was red and tears flooded her cheeks. I had never seen her cry like that. Not even when my grandma had passed; she never cried like that night. Jerry was trying to control her—to hold her back because she kept punching my dad. My dad, he was unresponsive the whole time. She threw some water at him. Then, he finally said ‘they’re unworthy. All they can do is live off a rich whore.’ He said that a lot, but that time I felt like he meant it. My mom leaned in to slap him but he grabbed her wrist and threw her to the floor. My youngest brother, Toby, was four and he began screaming and shouting. My dad would always beat on her—that was normal to us. But then, my dad began choking her. None of us didn’t know what to do—I stood there in shock. Seconds were going by and he was still choking her. Jerry tried to stop him but my dad was huge! Six foot five, over four-hundred pounds—he was hefty. Anyways, he had finally stopped and we all ran over to her. Her body was limp and lifeless—”
“He killed her?” I gasped.
“Yup. He did it in front of all nine of us. I felt bad for little Toby to see that. I remember holding him tight. I won’t ever forget Jerry’s eyes that night. They were big with no expression.”
I stared at him through the fence with my mouth wide open. “Go on!”
“Our dad made us lie to the cops and say a robber did all this to her and he was on the run. For some strange reason they believed the story—I did not even believe it. As weeks went on, Jerry had to drop out of school. It sucked because it was his dream to be independent. It sucked watching him go through that. Soon, our home turned into a drug spot. Our kitchen became a drug lab. My dad made Jerry become the maker for the meth and coke. Soon he created a business. I was the one who let the people in. I had to know who the real buyers were and who were not. During seventh grade, I missed weeks of school to the point where I had to dropout. I hated to see Jerry in the kitchen while my dad took all the cash. I hated seeing the little ones wondering what was going on in our home. Without my approval, I had to go back to school. Not to graduate, but to get kids who wanted drugs and find parents who needed them too.”
“Did you do it?”
“Of course or it was a beat to the skull. Soon teachers started to notice my uneasiness and fears. I remember going to a nurse every week from fainting in class—”
“Why were you fainting?”
“I had anxiety. I knew if I did not bring home some buyers every day, dad was going to beat me. There was this one buyer; she had a daughter named Crystal Bell. Every time her mom would come by, Bell would help me with my homework.”
“Oh yeah, I remember hearing about her. Didn’t you marry her?”
“Yeah, wait for that part,” he snapped. “Yeah, I remember her and me talking about all the stuff we wished for—a big home, to be married with children, a dog. Some days her best friend, Sam, would hang out with us. I loved those days—all my anxiety went away. I loved the days when my dad would get mad at us for laughing and would send us to Sam’s house—I always brought Toby with us because by this time all my brothers were moving out. Sam’s mom was a doctor so going to her house was like heaven. There were not people going in and out her home like mine. It didn’t smell like an armpit; her home smelt like cinnamon.”
“Did Sam’s mom know the crap you were going through?”
“Yeah, she did. She didn’t know everything, like that my home was a drug house, but she knew everything else,” he sighed. “When I was in ninth grade Sam’s mom died, which meant no more staying at her home with Toby. We had to go back to hell. I could not take it at home so I joined every after school program you can think of—Bell did the same. She hated going home to her meth-head mom. Bell and I became best friends, soon my girlfriend. When I turned seventeen, I proposed to Bell. My dad did not care as long as her mom was coming everyday for the drugs. We were married the next year and planned to move to Long Island. She said we‘d go if you get help—”
“Why did you need help?”
“I told you I had anxiety,” he snapped.
“Well, was it that bad?”
“Yeah, I had horrible mood swings with her and I would always be angry, worried, and nervous.”
“And what happened to Toby? Is he okay now?”
“He lives in Nevada now.”
“Oh I see, go on.”
“Anyways, I went to get help. We went to the doctor and they diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.”
“So, you have BPD? It makes sense now—”
“Okay! Can you stop interrupting me if you want to know so ba
dly! And no, I don’t have BPD, it was a mistake.”
“Okay sorry. I won’t say anything else.” I zipped my fingers over my lips.
“So, my real diagnosis was depression. Since we knew what was wrong with me, Bell got me counseling. She would go with me every—”
“Who exactly paid for the counseling? That stuff can be expensive.” I bit my lip afraid he would snap at me again for interrupting him.
“Her dad paid for it. He was nice to us. We lived with him until we could find jobs. My disorder seemed under control…to her anyway. Inside I felt unworthy and unsocial, but I did not let that show. I wanted her to be happy. We began working at a restaurant and soon earned money to buy a place on our own. Her dad helped mostly. Everything was turning out perfect, just like we once dreamed.”
“So, then what went wrong? Why did you kill her?”
“Ha, I didn’t kill her,” he laughed.
“So, who killed her then?”
“Well, we got a call that her mom needed some help; that she owed my dad some money. Therefore, we ended up driving back to my old place. The place was exactly like how it was when I left. I knocked on the door and Jerry had opened it. I did not recognize him—he had aged drastically. He told me I could not come in, just Bell. Therefore, I waited outside like an asshole and grew uneasy alone out there. When I heard Bell and my dad arguing I banged on the door. I was demanding for them to let me in, but they would not let me in! I could hear Bell and her mom screaming for help. I ran to the window—I could not see anything. Then, the door opened and I ran in. Bell was on the floor with a huge needle in her neck. I remember screaming so loud I had busted some vessels in my neck. My dad said ‘I was in physical danger. So, I had to kill her’ and he went on as if nothing happened. I called the cops—I didn’t care anymore about my dad. I did not care if he or Jerry was caught dealing drugs. Autopsy said she died of a drug overdose. It didn’t help that she was at a drug house either.”
“Why didn’t you tell that your dad did it?”
“I had no proof. He and Jerry were arrested anyway for distributing drugs and they went to prison. I got so much hate mail from them that my thoughts were everywhere. After Bell’s death, I became even more depressed and isolated. I could not support myself and soon moved in with Sam. She supported me with her mom’s money. A few years went by and we ended up getting married. Throughout those years, she developed a heart murmur—it did not bother her so we overlooked it. She almost died giving birth to our son though; years later, she went into cardiac arrest and died in New York. Police were suspicious of me, I mean, come on, you would be too. Her money was on halt until a will of hers was found. All the insurance money went to our son. I was broke again after her death. Actually, I was homeless and sent my son with Sam’s other family members. But, I did something I should regret.”
“What’d you do? Rob a bank?”
“I visited my dad and Jerry in prison. He told me about an easy way to make fast cash.”
“And what was that?”
“Drug trafficking.”
“Are you crazy? Why would you even agree to that?”
“It was the most money I ever had. I did it well for six months until I was caught. My ass ended up in a Mexican jail. By this time, my conscious was gone. I did not have that little voice in my head telling me what was wrong. The only thing I cared about was money and how I was going to get it. I got out of jail and decided I wanted to start fresh so I changed my name and moved to Brazil.”
“Did Brazil ease your depression?”
“I soon became moodier than ever. I felt lower than dirt. Every minute I would say to myself, ‘dad was right, I really am unworthy.’ I just felt like an outcast.”
“So, how did you start working for Ana?”
“Well, in Brazil I began working for some crazy designer. This woman was insane! She was from a different planet. She knew exactly how to push my buttons. When I would go back to the hotel, I would break things—”
“What the heck did she do to make you so aggressive?”
“What didn’t she do? She would talk down to me as if I were some animal. I thought about slipping some arsenic in her coffee a few times but I did not.”
“Huh!”
“At the time, I didn’t have the guts,” he snapped. “Anyways, the only nice thing she did for me was introduce me to her model, Daisy. Daisy was amazing at first until we got married. I thought she was bipolar—worse than that. She was nuttier than you were! She would yell at me for no reason and then kiss me the next minute. I could not understand her. She would beat on me with her stiletto heels, and spit on me. I did not do anything at first because I would never hit a woman but then she started throwing boots, vases, and picture frames at me! I fought her back. I didn’t want to, but it was the only thing that made her stop.”
I rolled my eyes. “So, why did you stay with her then?”
“Because, she supported me financially. I quit working for the crazy designer lady soon after.”
“Oh, I see. You would rather live with a crazy person than work for one. I so understand,” I mocked.
“Yes, yeah I did. Anyways, Daisy’s outburst turned from bad to horrible. It got to the point where I could not handle it. One day I stabbed her with a needle full of rat poison. Police thought it was a suicide. At the time, it did not hit me that she was dead. I was just happy that her bitching was gone. I felt peaceful again. Not only that, but she left a chest full of cash. But, stupid me, I spent it on crap and was also broke again. Crazy designer lady didn’t want to hire me again, so I had to move back to the states.”
“And that is when you ended up working for Ana, right?”
“Yeah,” he sighed and closed his eyes as if he finished telling the story.
“But why me? Okay your dad killed Bell, Sam died from cardiac arrest, and you poisoned Daisy, but you didn’t tell my part.”
“But you know your story already…”
“Not from your point of view. You want to hear my point of view—Jason tried to kill me blah blah blah!”
“Fine, I’ll tell you.”
“Okay,” I beamed.
“But promise not to judge me.”
“Um okay?”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“I moved to California and got a job working for Ana. That same year Jerry and my dad got out of prison early for some odd reason. When I was out, my dad approached me. He pulled me into a motel and we talked. He told me how sorry he was and then out of nowhere he pulled a knife on me. He said I was better off dead for calling the cops. Then, the thought of Bell appeared in my head and I attacked him. I kicked him in his balls and spray his face. Then, I grabbed his knife and with no doubt about it, I began stabbing him multiple times.”
“Oh my god! So, you killed your dad?”
Jason stayed quiet and faced the opposite direction of me.
“I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Yeah, I guess I did. I never thought about it as murder. Police did not seem to investigate since he was just out of prison. After that day, I thought I could not live my life like this anymore. I could not be—”
“A murderer?”
“No! I could not be poor anymore! I hated working for Ana. I was like a slave. My dad was right. Someone always had to support me and I was unworthy. I could never get a normal job because I had no high school diploma. For that reason, I wanted to be independent and I wanted to have a better life.”
“So, what happened?”
“Well, Ana and I were not getting along. We would always argue like an old married couple. I was so depressed at times I would threaten to kill myself if she made me go to another press party with her.”
“Was it your disorder making you like that?”
“Yeah, I guess that would explain it.”
“Okay, go on,” I said.
“So, I was depressed, basically over the fact that I would be working for her unti
l she wasn’t famous anymore. I actually attempted suicide when I thought about it too much.”
“Like how?”
“I don’t know, like cut myself or try to overdose on drugs.”
“Wow, that is so Hollywood. What did Ana do?”
“She would joke and say I was like the child she never wanted. She took me to multiple doctors and they told me stuff I already knew.”
“What did they tell you?”
“How I was depressed and that I needed counseling. Ana said she would pay for my counseling but I did not take the offer. I just faked as if I were okay. When I would get back to a hotel, I would punch a mirror or headboard. I felt so dumb and useless!”
“So, Ana knew your real age unlike me?”
“Yeah, my age was never a lie. However, she didn’t know much about my past. She was just desperate for a legit assistant. She knew as much as you and the fact that I had some issues and a little about my family.”
“But, why didn’t she tell me about your issues? You would think she would tell me that.”
“Honestly, I think she could have cared less. I doubt she knew what it was. The only thing she cared about was herself.”
“Well, she had to care a little, if she tried to get you counseling. If I were her, I would fire you and get a new assistant.”
“Oh yeah she cared…if I wasn’t too depressed to get her dry cleaning,” he laughed.
I laughed remembering the old Ana. “So, go on…get to my story already.”
“Well, you keep asking questions!”
“Okay well, I won’t ask anything until you’re done.”
He took a deep breath and turned to face me. “It all started in May. Ana was bitching like usual about how, you, Lily Blair Evans, was going to play in the same movie as her. It was insane how much she talked about you. So, one day Ana was online searching you. She found out you were worth over sixty million dollars! She said something like ‘whoa I hope no one finds that out or else.’ I thought about what she said ‘or else’. What would happen if someone found out? I did not understand her until now.”
“I get you.”
“She began to get this obsession about you. You were so interesting that I began to become interested in you. You were on the cover of every magazine and everyone wanted to be with you. And your past was horrible!”
“What’s so bad about my past?”
“Everything!”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Your past drug use, your alcohol addiction, trying to kill your twin, and your many suicide attempts…we had a lot in common.”
“I don’t really like talking about that…thanks for bringing it up.”
“Fine, I’ll stop talking.”
“No, go on with my story.”
He sighed, “I began looking up more facts about your past and the things you had gone through and I knew you were the right person. You were perfect because you were a vulnerable weak girl who would do anything to get away from your mother. I thought of ways to “run” into you, but nothing worked. You did not go to any press parties like normal celebrities, you were never at awards shows, and you never did daytime TV appearances. I began to think you were a made up person that you could only see on television. So, I remembered Paul was your assistant. I had overheard him talking to a model about an art camp he was going to at an after party. That same night as I was outside smoking, I witness him hit Marlon. I was so shocked that I pulled out my phone and videotaped him hiding the evidence. I had instant blackmail. I bought art camp tickets and was ready for action. Throughout those two months, I convinced Paul we were in love. I didn’t think it was going to be so easy.”
“You threatened him.”
“And?”
“That’s evil.”
“But it worked.”
“True.”
“Our plan started in September. Ana told me she would not be going to the meeting for the film you guys were in. I insisted that I would go for her. She approved and I lied and told everyone she was coming late.”
“Go on.”
“I ended up asking you out that day and you said ‘yeah.’ The rest is history.”
I stayed silent trying to recap everything we had been through—everything I had put him through—everything he put me through.
“Paul, turned against you when you denied him love.”
“I know.”
“Doesn’t that hurt you?” I asked.
“Not really, since I never loved him.”
“So, what was that stuff I had found in France then? The white powder?”
“Oh, that white stuff was just my medicine.”
“Oh really? What was it?”
“It’s for…constipation,” he murmured. “You know I get uneasy in different countries.”
“Oh,” I said remember seeing the bottle of the powder in our bathroom. “It was Mira-lax.”
“You had even asked me if I had my Mira-lax before we left!”
“I was just so confused because you turned so mean that day.”
“Paul was mainly in charge of the sedatives.” Jason laughed then cocked his head up with wide eyes. “Hey! You remember that morning back home when you came downstairs and saw Paul putting something in your drink? You said something like ‘what are you doing?’ And Paul was like ‘it’s just fiber.’”
My heart sped, remembering that moment and many other moments. “And that time when I was typing on my laptop and you guys sworn I wasn’t…but I was…but who’d moved it?”
Jason laughed. “Paul is a smooth criminal. I had him on whip.”
“I have so many questions…”
“What?” Jason laughed.
“It’s not funny!” I shouted.
“From my point of view, it was a very amusing year.”
“And the carpet? How’d you do that?” I said.
“Easy call a carpet man…”
“So, every time I would drink something, you guys were drugging me?” I said in uncertainty. “And you were switching my pills!”
“Basically, however, Paul always gave you such a low dosage. I swear, sometimes I don’t even think he was giving them to you.”
“So, how did you guys set up the lilies?”
“What lilies?” he asked in confusion.
“Um, all the black lilies I have been seeing everywhere! Like the ones that were in my skin and the ones from my handbag…”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I stayed silent, trying to gather all my thoughts.
“I told you everything I know,” Jason said.
Tears began to flood my eyes. “What were you going to do with the money? You would have gotten caught.”
“My plan was to travel the world. I could spend one million a year and still be rich.”
“Were you going to give Paul his share?”
“You think I’m an idiot?”
“So, what were you going to do to Paul?”
“Nothing, just threaten him if he told.”
“I don't believe you.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Paul hated that you didn’t like his future goals.”
“He had none.”
“His photography dreams.”
“I did care for him.”
“Not his photography career.”
“True…he was a horrible photographer.”
“Well, you can’t just say something like that if it’s his dream. How would you like it if I said your movies were a pile of crap?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hmm…who are you to tell me how to feel.”
“True,” he snapped. “But we had good times, right?”
“We had good times? Yeah right!”
“We did,” he smiled. “I must admit you are pretty hardcore.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Yeah, like when you spilled acid on me, hit me in the head with a plate! That’s hardcore.”
My eyes got big at
the thought of me being so evil—it sounded more dreadful than I imagined. “How’d you know all that?”
“I'm not stupid.”
I began to laugh. “Ha! Oh my gosh! How ironic!”
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because we are both crazy! I’m this schizophrenic girl who thought her husband was trying to kill her and you’re this sociopath who wanted to kill his wife! What’s the likely of people like us meeting and this happens?” I laughed. “I just feel bad for our son. How is he going to be in twenty years?”
“Pretty messed up in the head.”
“And now we’re laughing about what isn’t funny!”
“To think of it I should have married someone like Ana,” he whispered.
“Oh my!” I stood up, changing the subject. “We should go home, it’s dawn.”
“Um, are you sure?”
I kicked the fence with all my strength. “I’m sick of this drama between us. Let’s call it a truce and move on with our lives.”
“I’m over it now. I just want to live a normal life. And with the right therapy I think we can pull through this,” he agreed.
I smiled. “I agree.”
“Do you feel safer now…with me?”
“A little, now that we talked. I think we can get along now,” I said.
“So, I can come over on that side of the fence.”
“Sure.”
I stared at Jason as he climbed over—I understood him now. I felt safe with him again. If he could get past me trying to brutally murder him, I could get past him trying to steal my money.
I felt an odd love again. Like old times—however, I was not the same timid coward.