The Word of a Liar (18 page)

***

Lying on the bed, Ellen studied the painting of Lancelot and Guinevere and thought of ways to improve it. JD wiggled beside her, lost in one of his fantasies. He asked her for the fifth time a question regarding one his movies, which he already knew the answer too. She told herself she ought to break him of this habit of lying with her until he fell asleep
,
but it had been this way since Paul died, and she never had the will to change things.

Ellen wondered what Samantha and Mad Dog had discovered in Mason’s dark pleasure palace. She thought of how beautiful he had made her bedroom, the sensuous bath and that exquisite nightgown. For Samantha to react so strongly, the basement must be equally as sinister as her bedroom had been magical. She hoped he hadn’t gone down there and taken things away. She wanted to see what he had done. Ellen waited to hear JD’s heavy breathing, indicating he had finally fallen asleep, but he still talked and twisted in play.

She closed her eyes, remembering the night of the road not taken. After dinner, Mason had led her back upstairs to her bedroom. She felt his touch, his weight on her, and heard the low, sensual sound of his love making all over again. She wondered how she was ever going to sleep without him. She bolted upright, breaking the sumptuous spell. She looked at JD. Mercifully, he was asleep.
She rose. Smoothing her hair, she tiptoed out of the room. Downstairs, she followed the voices to the kitchen. The three had their backs to her as they worked together to clean up the remains of the evening’s little party.

Mason turned to set a dish down when he noticed Ellen standing in the doorway. Ellen’s flushed skin, soft, swollen lips, glazed, brown bourbon eyes, and hard, erect nipples protruding from beneath her white tank top ensnared him. He went to her. Ellen shivered. Taking her hand, Mason led her into the parlor where he greedily began to consume her sensual mouth.

“What were you doing up there for so long?” Mason paused to hold her face up to his scrutiny.

Ellen sighed. “I was thinking about the other night.”

“Did you touch yourself?” Mason scored her neck with his mouth.

“No. I was lying next to my son.”

“Did you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still want to?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I want you to do it for me. Too bad, you’re not going to be able to be here tonight.”

Ellen leaned her head to the side, and Mason planted several kisses on her neck’s soft curve.

“Say the word and I’ll stay.”

Mason continued his soft caresses. Behind him, Mad Dog cleared his throat.

“Go away!” Mason growled, not letting go of Ellen. “Can’t you see we’re busy?”

“Why don’t you take that down to the basement where you both could be more comfortable?” Samantha’s sarcastic tone made him stop.

Ellen pulled away. “The basement! That’s what we have to do before you leave tonight. Get rid of whatever you have down there. Come on.”

She dragged Mason past Mad Dog and Samantha, leading him to the basement door. She opened it and then checked the light socket.

“I put the bulb back in it.” Mad Dog smiled.

Ellen flicked on the light. The votive candles on the steps and the cardboard covering the windows were still intact.  At the bottom of the stairs, Ellen pulled the string, hanging from the porcelain light fixture.  The light from the bare bulb illuminated a pathway of dark red roses, and tapered candles in large candelabras. Hanging from the cross beams were two long panels of black fabric, which sandwiched black lace curtains. It reminded Ellen of the
Phantom of the Opera’s
lair. “Mason, I can’t believe you did all of this!”

She squeezed his hand, turning to her sister.  “Samantha, what is so awful about this?”

“Look behind the curtain,” Sam said and folded her arms across her chest.

Ellen swallowed hard, tentatively spreading apart the lace panels. More black fabric covered sections of the stone walls. Her eyes moved upward. Two chains with black leather cuffs clipped to the ends, dangled from the beams. Their silver studs caught the meager light. To her right, a massage table draped in a black satin sheet with metal chains and leather restraints wound around its legs looked diabolical. Ellen didn’t make a sound as she smoothed her hand over the silky sheet. She looked up again to the improvised manacles hanging from the ceiling, and then over to the wilted roses and large candelabra.

Leaning against the table, she stared at the three, offering them no clue as to what she was thinking.  Mason reached his arm out to his side and gripped the support beam, leaning into it. Ellen knew he was grinning beneath his beard. Mad Dog raised his eyebrows, waiting. Samantha fumed. Ellen pictured her sister and Mad Dog coming down here and finding all of this.
What they must have thought!
  Laughter erupted from Ellen and then the two men.

“How can you think this is funny?” Samantha reeled. “What if JD had come down here and had seen this?”

“Well, he didn’t.” Ellen sobered. “So stop worrying about it.”

She looked at Mason. A lascivious smile met her eyes.

“And you!” she exclaimed as she pointed at him. “What an imagination you have! Is this what I have to look forward to?”

Ellen went to him, and he took her in his arms and grinned, his blue eyes twinkling with mystery.

“I’m sorry now that I didn’t choose this road. Think of the risk I would have been taking if I had unleashed this dangerously seductive side of you. Once again, I did the predicable. Always the predictable, right, Sam?

Ellen looked over at her sister, who still stood with her arms folded. “Come on, Sam, lighten up. You have to admit this is pretty spectacular, especially for a crude biker.”

Ellen winked at Mason.

“Yes! It’s pretty spectacular all right.” Samantha dropped her arms to her side.

“So tell me, little sister, what were you and Mad Dog doing down here anyway. The two of you weren’t trying out the equipment were you?”

Samantha’s face flushed a bright red. Mad Dog chuckled. “Ellen, I love that smart-ass wit of yours. You know, I thought about it, but I couldn’t find the whip. Obviously, you have it safely tucked away.”

Samantha grunted in disgust and then turned to leave, but Mad Dog caught her wrist and pulled her back.  He smiled. “Oh no you don’t! Tell your big sister what we were doing down here while your innocent nephew played upstairs.”

Samantha inhaled a big breath then exhaled. She looked shamefacedly at her older sister.

“We came down here to get high!” she finally blurted out. “We wanted to smoke a little weed. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“That explains all the crackers.” Mason laughed, pulling Ellen into his chest.

Ellen looked into the scorching heat of Mason’s eyes and then turned to Samantha. “Seems like these two devils want to lead us down the path of ruination. What do you say we shackle the two of them and make them beg and scream for mercy?”

Samantha grinned. “Don’t move! I’ll be right back with my camera.”

CHAPTER seventeen

Riding down County Road N, row upon row of crimson and gold leaves flaunted their brilliant plumage before the short, shimmering rays of the October sunshine. The musty-smelling air cut across Mason’s face with crisp, cold intensity. Above, the sky was a clear blue. Power and freedom roared in his ears. He tried to stay mindful of Ellen, who followed in her car, but the beauty of the day and the open vastness of the road beguiled him. Rolling the throttle to eighty, the hypnotic siren of speed wooed him like a sultry mistress. His heart raced and nerve endings tingled with the thrill of her exhilarating promises. Only his motorcycle offered him this particular ecstasy, and he savored it every time he rode.

They were going to Ron Richardson’s cottage, a teacher at Ellen’s school. She had been visiting him the night her car had broken down. Having just returned from a two-week trip to St. Louis to oversee Jack’s shipments, Mason wanted to spend the day alone with Ellen, but she had promised JD this trip. She was going with or without Mason. Guilt prompted him into agreeing to tag along. Mason had lied about his long absence, telling Ellen that his great uncle had passed away and that he, the executor of his uncle’s will, had to tie up some loose ends after the funeral. Ellen never questioned his story, but why should she?

Mason remembered Desi’s former complaint that he never spent enough time with her.  He now realized its validity. Since meeting Ellen, he found himself greedy of their time alone. He didn’t want to play the part of polite guest to non-biker citizens who would think he was some evil barbarian bent on ruining Ellen’s virtue.

A horn blasted. Mason checked his mirror.  Ellen’s car came up behind him, headlights and right blinker flashing. He slowed, allowing her to pass. They pulled into a narrow driveway that led up to a log cabin. Ellen parked the car, and Mason pulled up behind her. A middle-aged man and woman came from the cabin and greeted Ellen and JD with warm, welcoming smiles. Mason kicked down the stand and dismounted. He brushed the dust from his clothes and feigned a genial smile as Ellen and the couple approached.  Mason didn’t miss their stunned expressions as Ellen introduced him.

“Ron, Maggie, this is Mason Hackett.” Ellen hugged his arm as if to protect him. “Mason, this is Ron and Maggie Richardson.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mason said as he shook their hands.  “Thanks for inviting us. It’s a beautiful spot for a cottage. I’ve never been out to Bass Lake.”

“Come on in and see the place. It’s nothing special, but Maggie and I enjoy it. Could I get anyone a beer or a soda?” Ron offered. Tall, with salt and pepper hair, glasses, and deep dimples when he smiled, Ron seemed like an amiable character.

“A beer sounds good,” Mason replied.

After the initial shock of his appearance had passed, Mason relaxed and determined to make the best out of the day. He put his arm around Ellen’s shoulders, and they headed for the cabin. They didn’t stay inside long because JD escaped down to the lake.  When they caught up to him, JD was wading knee deep in water. Shortly thereafter, Ron offered them the use of his small fishing boat so JD could fish. Mason at the stern, Ellen at the bow, and JD in the middle, Mason trolled westward where only trees dotted the shoreline. He turned off the motor and dropped anchor.

A male skirmish ensued when Mason refused to bait JD’s hook because a real fisherman always baits his own.  Quickly resolved with a little motherly intervention, Ellen persuaded Mason to hold the hook while JD speared the worm. She watched Mason guide her son’s arm as they swung the pole back and then forward. The line spiraled into the air, forming a sleek arch, and then broke the water’s flat surface.  Ellen’s heart swelled with pride as Mason coached JD on the fine art of casting. His male instruction filled a void in her son that she could not.

After several practices, Mason remarked, “Time to fly solo, JD. Cast out and slowly reel it in. When you feel a fish biting, pull up the pole.”

Mason smiled at JD and then at Ellen. “How about you switch places with your mom? You’ll be able to cast out better.”

“Okay,” JD obliged.

JD scooted toward Ellen. She moved to the middle of the boat, facing Mason, who threw a couple of floatation cushions down between his feet.

“Sit here and I’ll massage your shoulders.” He grinned, his blue eyes deceptively innocent.

She slid down on the cushions, propping her legs up on the seat, and lay back against him.

“Mmm, I like this,” she purred.

Mason stroked and kneaded her shoulders with his fingertips. Ellen looked up. His lips descended softly on hers, and his hair cascaded down around them like a black velvet drape. The familiar electric heat sparked. Mason lifted his head, stroking her neck with the pads of his fingers. When JD looked away, he deftly rubbed her breasts. Her nipples hardened. Ellen reached up and rubbed the outside of his thighs. Content, she sighed. “I think we are the only people on this lake. I don’t see a single soul.”

“I noticed. It would be great to go skinny dipping.”

“It’s not exactly swimming weather.”

“It can’t be that cold. September was hot.”

“Jump in. Don’t let me stop you.”

Ellen looked over at JD, who recited lines from Sponge Bob as he cast out his line. “Good job, bambino!” She clapped and then turned her attention back to Mason. “You can handle the cold water. You swam quite adeptly in the river.”

“I prefer heated pools. I thought you might like a dip,” Mason said as his hands moved down to her bra hook.

“Don’t you dare, Mason Hackett!”

Ellen dropped her feet and then sat back up on the seat. “You aren’t getting me into that water. Besides JD is here.”

“JD can’t see anything once you’re in the water.”

“No! Forget it!  If you want to jump into that freezing lake go ahead.”

JD turned. “There’s a fish, Mommy.”

JD let go of his pole and leaned over the bow, pointing into the water.    “Grab the pole!” Mason shouted, moving next to Ellen.

The boat swayed. Ellen shifted over to the vacated seat. Mason snatched up the pole and began to reel in the line then handed it back so JD could bring in the fish. A small blue gill flopped helplessly on the hook. Mason carefully released it.

“It’s too small, bud. You’ll have to try again,” Mason said as he tossed the fish into the lake.

“There it goes! Get it back! Get it back right now!”  JD screamed.

“It’s too small.  You can catch another one,” Mason soothed, but there was no comforting the boy.

JD whirled around. With eyes cast to the side, gritted teeth, outstretched arms, and spread fingers, he squealed like a mad wizard, casting a spell. “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“Stop it!” Ellen hollered “Stop being violent to Mason.”

“I want my fish back!” JD howled, pummeling his forehead with his palms.

Ellen dashed toward him as Mason stepped back to avoid tipping the boat. She grabbed her son’s hands. “Sit down!”

Positioning herself behind JD, she sat him between her legs while holding his wrists.

“I want my fish back!” Tears streamed down JD’s face. He screamed and kicked wildly. Ellen wrapped her legs around his ankles.

Mason stood dumbfounded as the unnatural rage played out. Emotions in a knot, Mason wanted to slap the boy for getting so upset over such a small thing, yet JD’s wild reaction scared and confused him. His hands shook as he moved back to the boat’s stern. JD yelled for his release.

Ellen spoke in a gentle voice. “If I let go, are you going to be okay?”

“Yes,” JD whimpered.

When Ellen freed him, JD fell against her and cried. “I’m a loser, Mommy! JD is a loser!”

“No, you’re not.” Ellen hugged him, kissing the top of his head.

“Yes, I am!” JD insisted, but Ellen didn’t respond. “I think my autism is too big, Mommy.”

“I think so, too, baby. How about I rub your back?”

Mason watched Ellen gentle her son with eyes void of any anger.  Mason remembered JD coming to him the night he and Samantha had argued and how JD had tried to comfort him.  An idea came to mind. Mason pulled off his boots and began to undress. JD stopped crying.

“What are you doing, Mason?” Ellen gasped, looking horrified.

“You want your fish back?” Mason slid his jeans down around his legs.

JD nodded.

“Fine. I’ll go and get it for you.”

Mason stood naked in the orange sunlight. Stepping up on the seat, he brought his arms over his head, bent his knees, and then, in an eloquent dive, dove into the water barely causing a splash. The boat swayed. Ellen let go of JD and scurried to its center and waited for Mason to surface. His head bobbed out from under the darkness.

“Fuck! This water is cold!”

Mason swung his head back and forth, spraying droplets of water in every direction.

“You’re molted!” JD screamed with excitement. “And you said a swear.”

The lost fish forgotten, JD watched Mason tread water.

Ellen laughed. “You’re crazy, Mason Hackett.”

“Come on in, JD, and help me find your fish.” Mason dove underwater.

“Hold on, Mason. I’m coming,” JD shouted excitedly.

Ellen loosened the life jacket and removed his clothes. A wobbly JD climbed up on the bow. She made a silent prayer that he wouldn’t slip. He jumped into the water feet first. A loud splash followed. JD bobbed like an orange buoy.

“It’s cold, Mommy.” He dog paddled in a circle. “We’re molted just like Mr. Crabs on Sponge Bob.”

JD swam toward Mason, then back to the boat. “Come on in, Mommy.”

“Yeah, come on in and help us catch the fish,” Mason taunted. “You’re the one who likes to swim in lakes.”

Ellen looked at JD swimming happily around in the water, and then at Mason. His beautiful face was smiling up at her. Overcome by a multitude of emotions Ellen looked up at the blue sky. The fragile heat of the October sun warmed her face. She felt like crying, but not tears of pain, rather tears of joy.

She had found her soulmate in a man she never would have anticipated. A biker, with a pierced ear, a tattooed chest, and who read DH Lawrence, and knew how to use silverware. He had filled her home from top to bottom with roses, and had freed her sexually. Yet, the most endearing of all was that he got her son.

Ellen opened up her arms as if to embrace the sky. She wanted to shout up to Paul,
I hope where ever you are that you are pleased knowing how happy Mason makes JD and I. He is not the man I expected to be your surrogate but I love him and Mason shows so much love towards our son. That must be a comfort to you. Paul, you don’t need to worry about us anymore.

Ellen dropped her arms and looked at Mason. He returned her gaze with a question in his eyes.  Pausing for a moment, Ellen pulled off her top and then her shorts.  She stood on the seat. Bracing herself for the cold water, she jumped.

She heard Mason shout, “Cheater” as she plunged into to the frigid water.

The cold stung her warm skin as she sank down into the dark, shadowy depths. Bringing her arms over her head, she pushed herself upward where the sun shone through the water’s surface. Mason was there waiting.

“Swim to the boat with me,” Mason said.

Ellen treaded water, watching his lean body skim across the lake; his strong arms propelling him in perfect rhythm, his white butt bobbing. Ellen followed. Hanging on to the side of the boat with one hand, Mason grabbed her with his free arm and kissed her. His hand moved deftly behind her, and then her bra loosened around her shoulders.

“How’d you do that so fast?” Shocked by the swiftness of his maneuver, Ellen clutched the floating garment.

Mason arched his brow. “It takes practice.”

“Put it back on before JD sees me.”

“Putting it back on with one hand is much more complicated.”

Mason took the bra and threw it into the boat. He pulled her weightless body up to his. Her cold, hard nipples pressed against his chest. “I have to feel you like this at least once before I die from hypothermia.”

He kissed her with cold, wet kisses, but their tongues greedily consumed the warmth from their hot hungry mouths.

“Your breasts feel absolutely delicious up against me.”

Mason kissed the curve of her neck. He dunked and then the heat of his mouth encapsulated her areola. The frigid water intensified his sensual caress. His head popped up, but not before his brazen hand swept the inside of her thighs, sparking sweet, sensual shivers.

“I might like swimming in lakes if they were warmer. I think I’ve been made impotent.”

“I better check it out.”

Ellen dove underwater and brought her face inches from his coy cock, took hold, and stroked. Coming up for air, she frowned. “I’m afraid you’re right. I think you’ve frozen John Thomas, but Lady Jane seems to be handling the cold all right.”

She laughed. He squeezed her. Ellen wrapped her arms around his neck and studied the roguish gleam in his eyes. Their deviant blue color made them so mysterious. She wondered if she ever managed to see beyond their hypnotic charm, would she discover some dark secret? Troubled by the thought, Ellen turned away to watch JD floating in his world of make-believe. “Come on, JD. We’re done swimming.”