CHAPTER 49

Liar Liar Pants On Fire

I ran my hand across the top of Joe's dresser, pausing when I came to a framed picture of us. We were smiling at each other like idiots. I picked it up, remembering the day it'd been taken. Joe had just scored the winning home run in the final game against Jersey City PD. I'd been so proud, I ran onto the field and he picked me up, swinging me in a circle as if I weighed nothing. We looked so in love, or at least I thought so at the time.

The pain in my chest intensified.

I put the picture back and opened my drawer, emptying the contents into the duffle I'd brought with me. I shut the drawer a little too hard and turned around, getting an eyeful of the bed where we'd shared so many memories. I swiped at the angry tears flowing down my face. Had he ever had sex with her in our bed?

I wanted to hate her, but she'd never made any promises to me. Joe was the one who'd pretended to love me and made me believe he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He'd broken the promise he'd made to me in Cuba and I could never forgive him for that. I sniffed and straightened my spine before going into the bathroom to gather the rest of my things. With my bag stuffed full, I went downstairs to wait. Thirty minutes later, Joe walked in carrying his own duffle, jam packed with what looked like everything he'd had at Terry's house, including Bob's dog bed.

Interesting.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw me sitting on his couch. Bob wasn't paying attention to traffic signals and ran into the back of his legs. I carefully studied Joe, scrutinizing him for signs of shame or remorse for what he'd done, but there were none. He even had the audacity to smile like he was glad to see me. My face heated with anger when I realized he'd given that same smile to Terry as he slid inside her.

"Hey, Cupcake. I didn't see your Jeep outside."

"Hector dropped me off," I said as Bob rushed over, climbing up onto the couch beside me and turning his belly up in invitation. A wave of sadness engulfed me when I realized this might be the last time I'd see his goofy expression.

While I was occupied with Bob, Joe went into the kitchen and took the opportunity to get rid of the evidence, so to speak. He opened the basement door and tossed his bag down the stairs towards the laundry area. After he put Bob's dog bed back in the corner of the kitchen, he opened the freezer and raised his voice loud enough for me to hear him in the living room. "I was going to stop and get a pizza on my way over to your apartment, but now that you're here, we can heat up one of my mother's casseroles if you want."

I pulled my shoulders back, pretending I was stronger than I felt, and joined him in the kitchen to end this once and for all. I stood in front of the sink, hip leaning against the edge of the counter. "Joe, are you sure you want to marry me?"

"Where did that come from?" He closed the freezer door, frowning. "You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

Rather than answer him, I wiggled my fingers in his face so he could see the ring I'd just put on. "This means that we're engaged right… that we're committed to each other and to a future?"

"Yeah," he said uneasily, but with a trace of relief that I was wearing the ring.

"Did you close your case?" I asked, casually changing the subject.

His brows furrowed, instinctively knowing something was going on. Instead of asking point blank, he pulled the aluminum foil off the casserole dish and turned on the oven. "You need to eat something. How does Grandma Bella's baked spaghetti sound?" I had to give him credit for the way he changed the subject; that was smooth. It showed his concern for my health and redirected my attention to my stomach, which he knows is my weakness. Too bad for him, I already knew about his non-existent case, so I didn't need to press for details. He went ahead and put the casserole in the oven without waiting for my response. I didn't like Grandma Bella's spaghetti, but it didn't matter because I wouldn't be staying for dinner.

"How's your co-worker?"

"My what?" He frowned as he balled up the piece of aluminum foil that had covered the spaghetti and threw it in the garbage. "Oh, right. He'll be okay. Just needs some bed rest."

"That's good, Joe." It made my heart happy imagining Terry laid up in bed for a few days, but it wasn't fair that Joe seemed to be faring better than she had.

Bob was staring at the long strand of mozzarella cheese, dangling from Joe's hand. It must have come from the aluminum foil. Bob wasn't going to be able to resist the temptation. In his quest to lick every bit of flavor off Joe's hand, the side of his head barely brushed against Joe's crotch. Joe hissed in pain and spun around, facing away from me as he leaned on the fridge for support, breathing carefully through his nose. I couldn't have hidden my smile if I'd wanted to.

I quickly quelled my joy and put my hand on his back, asking with the appropriate amount of concern, "Are you okay?" He grunted but didn't answer. "You didn't get shot, did you?"

"No." He managed to choke out.

"Oh, shit. Did you get stabbed? Turn around and let me see." I started tugging at his shirt.

He realized I was seconds away from having him pull his pants down and checking him over. I had to admit, it was fun watching him squirm. He side stepped me. "I did not get stabbed," he said. "I'm fine. Bob just hit 'the boys' a little too hard. That's all." I knew he was lying. Bob had barely brushed against him, but I'd let it go. I'd gotten my pound of flesh even though he didn't know it. Still moving slowly, he opened the fridge and pulled out two beers. "What have you been up to this weekend?"

"Just a little house cleaning." I shrugged as if it was no big deal that I'd spent the last 24 hours erasing all traces of him from my home.

He was still a little hunched over in pain, but he managed to twist the caps off the bottles and hand one to me. "You should be taking it easy."

Ignoring his attempt at concern, I said, "I heard an interesting rumor today."

After making sure Bob was lying down on his dog bed and couldn't cause him more damage, he leaned back against the counter and crossed his legs at the ankle. "Oh, yeah? I guess Mary Lou caught you up on all the Burg gossip."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Word is you've been spotted with Terry Gilman." He maintained steady eye contact. He was good. I had to give him credit for that. But I was just getting started. My questions were designed to test him… to see how long he would drag his lies out.

The silence was becoming uncomfortable for him. Finally, he sighed in a way that told me he was tired of having to justify his actions and hurt that I didn't trust him. "Cupcake, you know I have to work with her sometimes. We've talked about this before."

So, this was how he was going to play it? He was going to make me out to be an irrational girlfriend who was jealous of another woman, while he portrayed himself as a good man trying to do his job; everything was all innocent and businesslike between them. I cocked my head to the side, pinning him with my gaze. "Exactly, what kind of work do you do with her?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He tried to appear unaffected by taking a long pull of beer. And then he fell back on the old standby. "You know I can't talk about my work." He straightened and stepped closer, bending down to kiss me.

I recognized it for what it was… a distraction. I waited until his mouth—the same mouth that had been covered in Terry's juices yesterday—was almost on me before I spoke. My voice was low and controlled, not filled with rage or jealousy. "Did you fuck her after I said yes to your marriage proposal?"

"What?" He reared back as if I'd slapped him. "Why would you say a thing like that?"

"Answer the question, Joe." I had never been this calm or straightforward and it was causing him confusion.

His features hardened as his cop face slid into place. "Calm down, Cupcake. Mary Lou's just trying to cause trouble."

I wanted to roll my eyes at the condescending way he told me to calm down. Considering what I witnessed yesterday, I was as calm as a cucumber. "I didn't get my information from Mary Lou." I looked the traitorous asshole in the eye while trying not to bristle at having my best friends character attacked. "It's a simple question, Joe. Did you fuck Terry after I said yes to your marriage proposal?"

He waved his hands in the air, frustrated that I wasn't backing off. "You know I haven't been with her in years."

"I saw you." I dropped that bomb and waited for it to explode.

His eyes narrowed, assessing how much I knew and then he cautiously asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Yesterday at her house in Philly," I said and watched his eyes widen a fraction. I was curious how deep he was going to dig his hole before he realized it was pointless. "I was across the street, watching while you called me from her front porch. When I told you I'd marry you, I thought you'd make the right decision and come home to me." Bob sensed something was wrong and came to me, whining as he leaned against my thigh. I reached down, absently rubbing the top of his head. "We could have salvaged our relationship—then—but you didn't come home. Did you?"

His stony face was getting redder by the second. "You were testing me?" he almost yelled.

I nodded and rolled my eyes sarcastically. "Yeah, Joe. I set up your little love nest and forced you to have sex with another woman and then lie to me about it. You were just an innocent victim in this scenario." I shook my head, disgusted with him.

"Fine," he said, angry that he'd been caught. "I was with her, but it wasn't what you think."

"Oh, that's good to hear." I ran the back of my hand across my forehead and exhaled deeply in exaggerated relief. "Because what I think is, after I said yes to your proposal, you went back inside and fucked her."

"Nothing happened with her," he said as his nostrils flared. "It's not my choice to work with her. She's an informant for the department; I have no control over my assignments."

"Your assignment?" I asked, dumbfounded. "How stupid do you think I am, Joe?"

He had the good sense not to answer that one.

"Just how much does the city of Trenton pay you to sleep with informants?" I tilted my head to the side, feeling bitchier than usual. "You probably make more than the average prostitute, right? Surely your assets bring in more than Lula ever did." I shrugged and looked him up and down, judging him like a bull at an auction. "I mean, you're the Italian Stallion of the Burg, right? This right here is prime man meat." I gestured to his physique.

The muscles in his jaw clenched and loosened a few times and I thought steam was going to start coming out of his ears any minute.

"Cat got your tongue?" I looked him square in the eyes. "Maybe my questions are too hard. How about this one? Where were you when Hector called to tell you I was missing?" I waited for him to answer, and when he didn't, I continued. "I'd be willing to bet it was the same place you disappeared to the week before I escaped from the cellar."

He looked down, unable to meet my eyes. "You have to understand," he said. "We didn't have a single lead. We were spinning in circles." Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulders, shaking me a little. "You were just gone without a trace… I was afraid."

"You were afraid?" I asked incredulously. "What about me? While you were safely tucked away in your love nest with Terry Gilman, I was being terrorized by a madman who almost beat me to death." Tears welled in my eyes, and my throat tightened. "I was the one afraid," I screamed and poked my chest with my finger. "I cried for you to come save me, but—" I closed my eyes, unable to meet his eyes. "But how could you save me when you were too busy fucking another woman." The last part was broken off on an angry sob.

"Please don't cry." He reached out to hold me, but I stepped back, leaving his hands hanging in the air. "I'm sorry, Steph. I messed up. I told her it was over and cleared out all my stuff."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I looked at him in disbelief. "I agree to marry you, but your dick needs one last goodbye kiss from your other girlfriend?"

He was shaking his head, denying what I'd just accused him of. But there was no point in arguing. I was done here. I turned to go, but he was too fast. He held me by the shoulders and begged. "You're not even going to let me try to fix this? I made one little mistake, Stephanie. You can't throw away years together because I lost focus for a minute. Give me another chance."

I shook my head, sadly. "You broke your promise, Joe. In Cuba you promised you wouldn't touch another woman as long as we were committed. I think being engaged qualifies as a pretty serious commitment, don't you?"

He rubbed his jaw, debating his next tactical move. "Are you going to stand there and pretend you haven't been doing the same thing with Ranger?" He quirked an eyebrow, looking at me with judgment. "Let's not forget Hawaii and that cozy little scene I walked in on."

"That's true." I conceded. We'd been off and on so many times, who can say what kind of commitment we had at any given time. "But the difference is we weren't engaged to be married. And I didn't have your ring on my finger."

I saw the hope slip from his face as he realized he'd lost whatever leverage he'd had. "Are you going to run to him now?" He sneered. "He'll fuck you, but he won't stay with you. He's out for number one. And that ain't you, sweetheart. Hell, he didn't even stick around for his own kid."

I couldn't argue with any of that. Ranger had made my place in his life perfectly clear. He wanted me in his bed—occasionally—and when he got tired of me, he'd walk away. While I was absorbing part one of Joe's punch to my heart, he followed up with his second jab.

"Haven't you heard?" His eyes lit up, practically gloating, but his question wasn't really a question, it was more of a taunt. I'd forgotten what a bully he could be. "Ranger's girl Friday is back in town. She's probably warming his bed right now." My face must have registered confusion because he smiled in that way people do when they fake feeling sorry for you. "Oh, you didn't know?" He cocked his eyebrow and finished up with the kill shot. "While you were missing, Jeanne Ellen Burrow's made herself comfortable at Rangeman. She even offered her services to help find you. From the look of it, Ranger was pretty grateful." He tilted his head to the side. "Wonder what form of payment she required?"

If he'd stabbed me, it couldn't have hurt more. I took a deep breath and did my best to push the pain away. Ranger was free to do what he wanted. I had no claims on him. But there was something else that struck me as curious about Joe's rant. I don't know why I didn't see it before. He was jealous. It was right there in his eyes. "Did you hit on her?" I scanned him up and down with a new understanding. "You did, didn't you? You hit on her and she turned you down." I leaned over, holding my sore ribs while I laughed. "That's priceless."

Being laughed at wasn't the reaction he'd wanted, so he decided to get even meaner. "Ranger's bed's probably full of beautiful women, but I'm sure one of his men wouldn't mind entertaining you while you wait your turn." He shrugged. "Being Ranger's whore won't be so bad, Cupcake."

I felt my face heat. His words hit their target, but I wasn't going to let him know that. I'd been raised around mean girls. If he was going to do damage, he'd have to try harder. "You have the nerve to judge anyone for being a whore?" I was full of indignation. "I've listened to your Grandmother call me that for years, but you are the biggest whore I've ever known, and I'm including Joyce Barnhardt in that group." I held my hand out with my thumb and forefinger separated. "I came this close to forgoing a condom with you in Cuba." I laughed at my foolishness. "You have no idea how glad I am that I listened to that little voice reminding me where your dick has been."

His nostrils flared. "You know I'm clean."

"Right," I said. "As clean as any dumpster can be." I rolled my eyes and shook my head back and forth in despair. "Do you know what it's like to wonder if the girl ringing up your Tastykakes has fucked your boyfriend?"

"Don't be crude, Stephanie. I'm not a monk and never claimed to be."

"You want crude? How about this?" I asked, my voice getting higher. "Fuck 'em and leave 'em, that was your motto wasn't it? You take what you want and never give a second thought to the damage you leave behind. When you fucked me at the bakery, you didn't use a condom. You didn't even hang around to see if your lack of protection complicated my life."

"What are you saying?" His eyes narrowed.

I laughed even though nothing was funny. "Now you're worried? It's about fifteen years too late, don't you think?"

His voice took on a hard edge. "Answer the question, Stephanie."

"You think I had your love child?" I laughed. "Get real, Morelli. That secret would have been too juicy to keep quiet. "Stephanie Plum… " I mocked as if I was the voices of the busy body's in the Burg, "she got knocked up by that 'No good Morelli boy.'"

"Then, I don't get why you're bringing up ancient history."

"Its ancient history for you because you had no consequences—like always. I, on the other hand, was grounded that summer as well as the summer you convinced me to play train in your garage. I remember being a little girl, crying at the front door while you continued playing with the kids in the neighborhood." I hadn't meant to get into all this with him, but I couldn't stop the bottled-up feelings from spewing out. I was getting a little hysterical as I got in his face.

"Morelli takes what he wants, when he wants it, and then he goes around town writing about his conquests on bathroom walls so the whole neighborhood knows. You have no idea what your bragging cost me." I screamed. "No fucking idea."

Humiliation washed over me, and I closed my eyes. I was back in that locker room, hands touching me, bruising me, and the hard wood of the bench biting into my ribs—my hips. I shuddered. Those memories had been locked away so deep I almost convinced myself they'd happened to someone else. But I can still hear the words Mason Treadwell whispered in my ear before he… "Joe Morelli took what was mine and now I'm taking what's his. Ask 'Loverboy' if he can tell the difference when I'm done with you."

"What did I cost you, Stephanie?" Joe gently asked.

I blinked, and the past disappeared. I shook my head. "Doesn't matter," I muttered, running out of steam. "We never should have gotten together. We should have let the past stay in the past."

"You can't still be blaming me." He sighed. "I was just a kid."

I took a deep breath, feeling empty. Defeated. "So was I, Joe." I backed away and placed the engagement ring and his house key on the table. He followed on my heels as I made my way to the living room.

"Where do you think you're going?" He grabbed my arm.

"You and I are done." I shook his hand off and walked to the other side of the couch where my bag and the box of his things were sitting. I picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and pointed down at the box. "That's all your stuff from my apartment."

Joe reached for me again, but I quickly turned, heading for the door as Bob circled my legs. Before I pulled the door open, I kneeled to give Bob a final hug. "I'm going to miss you, boy," I whispered in his ear. When I stood up, I gave Joe one final look. "I'll keep our personal business private, and I expect the same from you. If you spread lies about me or paint me to be the bad guy, I'll ruin you." Joe didn't know Hector had recorded his and Terry's interlude. I didn't want to do it, but if he forced me, I would make it public. "Don't contact me. Don't even glance in my direction on the street. I don't exist to you anymore." I pushed the door open and stepped onto the porch.

"Don't do this Stephanie," Joe yelled as I walked down his driveway and got in Hector's waiting car, never once looking back.