Behind the Mask Ch. 18

All characters are at least 18 years old.

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My new fiancé had my dead cousin and boyfriend's heart.

I turned to get out of my chair, but my legs didn't have any strength left. Alain steadied me, taking the briefcase from me and setting it aside. The doctor began discreetly raking up the money I'd tossed onto his desk. It was strange. I started tuning into peripheral things rather than our immediate surroundings. I could hear the PA announcement outside crystal clear, but whatever Alain was saying to me was muffled beyond comprehension. Please, not another panic attack. The first one sucked enough.

"I'm 'ere, mademoiselle. Focus on your breathing," he was saying as he came back into focus.

Now things were starting to make sense. Charles really wasn't August's benefactor, nor was he in cahoots with him. It was Uncle Ian taking care of the man with his son's heart. As for his memories... It wasn't possible.

"Doc," I said shakily, and he quickly pushed his new funds to the side. "Is it possible for the recipient of a donated organ to have the memories of the donor?"

His eyes widened in surprise before dipping into a frown as he scratched his chin. "There's documentation of changes in personality after an organ transplant, especially a heart transplant, though these are only ever anecdotal. But entire memories... It's hard to imagine. What kind of memories do you mean?"

"Snippets of information. Phrases that were spoken. Life events." By now I had relaxed my grip on Alain, and I brushed his hand off my shoulder to fix my gaze on the doctor.

Doctor Bernard shook his head. "Highly unlikely. I'm not a neurologist, but the plasticity of cells not specialized for memory storage is -- by my reckoning -- not enough to transfer memories of entire events from one person to another. I'll spare you the technical jargon, but in layman's terms, I'd have to see it to believe it."

Then August and Jordan were one in a million. I was afraid of being elated that, in a sense, Jordan was still alive. Like it was too good to be true. Then the guilt came crashing through. It was unfair to disregard August as his own person. I imagined Leon had experienced something similar with Cherry, trying to dissociate his daughter from his wife. If I wanted to be with August, I needed to be certain it wasn't because he had part of Jordan in him. And with that thought, it hit me.

I wanted to be with August.

I chuckled once, breaking the silence in the room, and the doctor looked at me like I was a madwoman. Which was a fair assessment. "Thank you for your time, doctor," I uttered flatly, pushing myself to my feet. Alain grabbed the suitcase and gently helped me out of the room, putting his arm around me for stability.

When we were in the car and off on our way, I whispered, "How could you..." He was silent, and I did my best to glare at him in the rearview mirror, but my eyebrows weren't cooperating. "How could you lie to me all this time?"

"I 'ave never lied to you, mademoiselle," he insisted.

"But you hid things from me, things you knew were important to me." My heart rate was picking back up, and I tried to steady myself. "You were pulling correspondence right out of my mail!"

His eyes flickered to me in the rearview mirror before darting away in shame. "You found out."

"Of course I found out," I scoffed, failing a weak smile. "I learned from the best." He took a moment to gather his thoughts, and I gathered mine. "Why my address? Why didn't Uncle Ian just have August's mother send it right to his address?"

"You were a mess those first few years, mademoiselle. Lost. If you recall, mademoiselle, six months after you 'ad established Taboo, you 'ad surveillance placed on both your father and uncle for nearly a year. And me, be'ind my back," he noted. I had nothing to say to that. "And so, the best place to avoid suspicion--"

"Was right under my nose," I finished bitterly. Made sense. It's what I would do. That, or a random dead drop, though that involved more factors. I doubted either Charles or Uncle Ian trusted anybody other than Alain or themselves to handle anything relating to this matter. If I'd had any of them followed, and any of their dead drops was in an unusual spot for their schedule, I'd have sniffed them out long ago. Also couldn't let some rando stumble upon and steal any of the letters. Jesus. My own fucking house. How had I missed that?

Alain's phone rang, and he answered it. "Oui. Bon. I understand." Hanging up, he looked at me in the mirror again. "We've found Monsieur August, mademoiselle."

I looked out the window, eyes unfocused as I sorted my feelings. "I want to see him now."

--

He was wandering aimlessly on the street, occasionally earning the ire of some stuck-up jerk-off who had better things to do than get slowed down by a random pedestrian. Alain let me off and I followed him from a distance. It wasn't hard; lunch time in the big city meant the sidewalk was packed with people. He stopped and turned into a building I recognized, and took an elevator up. I stayed one elevator behind him, and he took his to the top. And now I knew where he was going. Another old memory.

I took the last flight of stairs up the door that allowed roof access and slowly opened it. There he was, stepping close to the edge. I closed the door quietly behind me and followed. This was the same rooftop Jordan had taken me up to. The view was still just as beautiful, even at midday. August looked down at the city, and I expected he would sit down and dangle his legs off the side of the building like we used to. Instead he just stood there, as if watching the people down below file back and forth like ants.

I stopped, less than ten feet behind him. This was stupid. If I accidentally startled him, he'd go tumbling off the side, and I will have killed another boy I loved. But I just watched him. He looked calm but pensive. Occasionally he would clench his fists at his side. Then he looked back up at the horizon and sighed. He took another half step toward the edge, leaving his toes sticking out into the air. And then ever so slightly, he began leaning forward.

"Am I interrupting?" I asked casually, and he gasped and leaned back, taking two half steps away from the edge. He took a moment to hang his head before turning to look at me.

"You should really consider joining the FBI, with how good you are at finding people," he said wryly, and I chuckled. Lowering his voice, almost sheepishly, he asked, "How long have you been standing there?"

"An hour," I said with a smirk.

I did my best to remain casual, but my heart was threatening to pound out of my chest. I approached and joined him at the edge, sitting down and kicking my legs into open air. He took a deep breath before joining me, and we watched the horizon together.

Quietly, and almost accusingly, I said, "I thought you didn't want to die miserable."

He glanced at me, then sighed. "It... It was a moment of weakness."

"No, cheating on your diet is a moment of weakness," I snapped. "Making a stupid impulse purchase is a moment of weakness. Maybe even sleeping with your girlfriend's sister, if we're being generous." I rounded on him, angry. Oh shit, there were tears on my face. Whatever, maybe it was a good thing. I needed him to know what the fuck he was about to do.

"You don't understand," he murmured. "Ever since my surgery, I've felt... different. Like I'm not fully myself. I'd think certain things that I never would've thought before, and it wasn't from maturing or personality growth. I remembered things that never happened to me, like our Arkansas trip. And now I know why." He clenched his teeth. "I know why I'm like this. I know why you're attracted to me. I know why you said another man's name when we were together..."

"August--"

"But I'm not him!" he said, between sorrow and frustration. "I was so thankful that somebody could help me be whole again, but nobody told me he would come along for the ride! And I know... I know if I just jumped, I would be ending us both. That it would be selfish to jump after being given a second chance. But is it really so selfish to want my life to be mine alone? To not have my memories be muddled with somebody else's?" He looked straight at me mournfully. "To have the girl I love..." He hesitated. A slip of the tongue. "...see only me and not somebody else when she looks at me...?"

I took his hand in mine. "I see you, August. Only you."

"Then why--"

"Because I needed to make sure you were safe," I cut in. He was visibly confused, and I took a deep breath. "I said Jordan's name on purpose, August. I needed to force you away. You're a smart guy, I knew if I didn't go hard, you'd figure out what I was up to and then refuse to leave. So I needed to take drastic measures, because even if it hurt you immeasurably... you would be alive."

His eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"I dealt with Muerte--"

"Lexi!" I winced at his tone. "Alone?!" He took my face in both his hands, breath shaky. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? What were you thinking?! You could have been killed! I can't believe you would do something so--"

I leaned forward and kissed him, catching him by surprise. He sighed and returned the kiss, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. When we parted, I bit my lip.

"What did you say earlier about the girl you love?" I murmured mischievously, and he groaned.

"Oh jeez. Can you not?" he laughed.

"No, I can't not."

He smiled, exuding such a warm aura that I wished it were winter so I could cuddle up with it. He brushed a lock of hair out of my face before looking into my eyes. "I love you, Lexi."

"I love you too, August." I could feel myself beaming, and he returned it. "Well, since we're in a confessing mood, I gotta say: our last day together was so painful, because I knew how I had to end it."

"I had a feeling something was up," he admitted.

We were quiet for a moment while I worked through what I was about to say next. "At one point, when I was dealing with Muerte, things were getting pretty dicey. If things hadn't gone according to plan..." A lump had formed in my throat. "Even if I'd survived... you wouldn't want me anymore..."

His eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he realized what I meant. "Where is he now?" he asked, deadly calm.

I checked the time on my phone. "Probably dead. Put in a bunch of jars and shipped off back to his homies." That seemed to improve both our moods, and August let out a long breath before nodding.

"Good. And no matter what happened, I'd still want you."

I smiled, then grinned. "Do you want me now? Some hot, outdoor skyscraper sex?"

"Not the time, Lexi," he laughed.

"Heh, I know. Just needed to maintain my reputation, y'know?" I winked at him, and he chuckled, then kissed me again. "Hey. Promise me. Promise me you'll never try to do what you were about to do here today."

He nodded solemnly. "I promise."

"Oh God, did you even think about your mom? Jesus, you're a terrible son!"

"I'm sorry, okay?!"

--

"Oof. Oh. Okay."

Cherry had crashed into August with a hug as soon as he'd walked through the door. He looked at me for help, and I chuckled.

"So what, I'm supposed to keep my hands off your man, but you can rub yours all over mine?" I quipped.

"Yours has abs, though," she pointed out with a grin. August still had no idea how to react, holding his arms up at shoulder level.

"Yeah, and those abs belong to me. Get your dad on P90X if you like them so much."

Cherry finally let go, pouting a bit. "Stingy bitch," she muttered sourly. She then ran over to the others in my living room. "Brie! Brie! Lexi totally just said August was hers!"

"Omigod, are you guys official now?" Brie exclaimed, looking ready to scream in excitement. August and I just shyly looked at each other. On cue, both girls started screaming.

"Ladies!" Stef yelled. "Volume, please!"

"You're not my dad," Cherry remarked before sticking her tongue out at Stef.

"Yeah, 'cause your dad would just stuff a cock in it," Drew joked, before receiving a high five from Stef. "Fucking got 'em!"

"Oh my God, you guys are the worst," Brie groaned.

Chuckling, Stef got up to greet August, giving him a bro hug. "Good to see you again, dude. You guys cool?"

August looked over at me as I settled in with the girls, a smile on his lips. "Yeah. Yeah, I think we are."

"Hell yeah," Drew chimed in. "Sup, dude." He was draped over one of the arm chairs, and he jerked his thumb to a spot on the couch next to him. August dropped himself into the seat. I turned back to the girls, who were giggling to each other. They literally never acted like this. It was so surreal.

"Well?" Brie prompted, and I looked at her questioningly. "Don't be shy. Go sit on his lap."

I gave an appalled chuckle, and then the boys started chanting "On his lap!"

"Only fair you give us a show after all the times we put one on for you," Cherry said with a raised brow and folded arms.

I looked at August and bit my lip, suddenly bashful for the first time in... too long. He shrugged and beckoned me over, and I eased myself into the cradle of his arms. There was applause all around, which turned into whoops and hollers when he began kissing me. I say "began" because he didn't stop.

Happiness, huh?