Tell Me Pretty Lies

by Charleigh Rose

  I frown. “Are you saying it wasn’t an accident?” I shake my head, dismissing the thought. I’ve wondered what happened that night, but people hurt themselves jumping off that cliff all the time. After Danny died, they finally put up signs warning against it. But not once did foul play enter my mind. “Who would want to hurt him?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out,” he promises. “And if I find out you’re lying to me—”

  “I’m not,” I snap.

  “We’ll see.”

  Thayer

  “Think she’s telling the truth?” Holden asks, eyes locked on Shayne’s retreating form as she stomps back to her car. I can’t help but feel amused by her newfound attitude. When Holden first told me she was back, I was pissed—no—I was fucking enraged. How dare she show her face as if nothing happened? But now? Now our little encounters are something I look forward to in a way I can’t make sense of. Not that I’ve ever been able to make sense of anything where Shayne is concerned.

  “About not knowing anything?” I shrug, watching her ass bounce in those fucking spandex shorts that used to drive me insane, then she’s tossing her bags into her back seat before getting into the driver’s seat. “Maybe. But that doesn’t make her innocent.” As if on cue, Shayne rolls down her window, sticks her arm out, and throws her middle finger up.

  “No,” Holden agrees. “Not so innocent anymore, is she?”

  I catch his hungry expression in the rearview mirror and something like jealousy swirls in my gut. He doesn’t know Shayne was mine once. No one does. She was my dirty little secret. And I’m going to keep it that way.

  Reaching around the front seat, I slap the side of his head a little harder than necessary.

  “The fuck,” he barks, peeling his eyes away from Shayne.

  “Move over. I’m driving.”

  Holden climbs over the middle console and I get out, jumping into the front seat.

  “So what now?”

  “Befriend her. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that shit.”

  Holden looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that? She’s not exactly trusting of us anymore.”

  “Then make her trust you. If she knows something, she’ll eventually let it slip.”

  Secrets never stay buried for long.

  Especially not in Sawyer Point.

  Shayne

  “Shayne?” my mom’s hesitant voice calls from the other side of the bathroom door. I sink lower into the water until the bubbles come up to my chin, making sure I don’t have any special jewelry peeking out.

  “Come in.”

  The door opens, revealing my mom, contrite expression on her face. “Did you get my message?”

  Shit. I never responded after Thayer and Holden intercepted me after volleyball. “Sorry, practice ran late, and I totally spaced it.”

  She buys the lie easily, making her way over to the toilet to sit on top of the closed lid. “That’s okay. I just want to make sure it’s okay with you. I can tell them to ask someone else,” she offers. “Five days is a long time to be alone.”

  “Mom,” I say flatly. “I’m eighteen. I think I can handle it.”

  She purses her lips. “I know you can. Doesn’t mean you should have to. It’s different now with Grey being gone.”

  “I’m going to be swamped with school and late practices, anyway. I won’t even notice you’re gone.”

  “I’ll call your brother and have him come home for the weekend, at least.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I assure her. My brother is in his own fucked-up, unreachable bubble right now, and I’m not even sure she realizes it. The fact that he’s two hours away is the perfect cover. “Who is it this time? Anyone I’d know?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Some hotshot athlete,” she says with a wave of her hand. “He actually stated that platform heels are mandatory for air hostesses.”

  “Gross,” I say, wrinkling my nose. My mom’s job seems glamorous on the surface. She gets to spend all her time on private jets, visiting the world and receives tips in the form of expensive handbags and flashy jewelry. But she also has to deal with handsy men who think she’s offering other services, and the very real possibility of being replaced by someone younger or prettier or thinner at the drop of a hat. I don’t know how she does it.

  She shrugs. “For what he’s paying, I’d dress up like a clown and let him call me Bozo.”

  I laugh, splashing bubbles at her. I want to press for details about who she’s been with and why she’s been so secretive, but these moments—when smiles and light conversation and teasing come easy—are few and far between these days. “When do you leave?”

  “Monday. At least I have more than a day’s notice this time.”

  I nod and she pats her thighs before standing. “I’ll let you finish up.” She walks away, stopping in the doorway, one hand on the frame. “Remind me to ask you about college applications later.”

  “Oh yeah, Coach is setting up college tours for the seniors.” Another thing I forgot to mention. Soon, college coaches will start scouting at games, but before that, Coach wants us to visit surrounding campuses to get on their radar and get a feel for the area. I don’t know if I’m interested in a volleyball scholarship anymore, but I figure it’s good to keep my options open.

  “Well, okay.” Mom’s eyebrows lift, pleasantly surprised, I’m sure. We haven’t spoken about plans for college since before the accident. She’s been walking on eggshells with me, probably due to the fact that I was a basket case in the months following the accident, and not just because of Danny. Losing Thayer was almost just as hard, and that’s the fucked-up truth. “That’s great.”

  I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile, and then she’s gone, leaving me in peace. The second the door closes, the smile falls from my face, my thoughts shifting back to Thayer in record time. He’s always been intimidating, but I’ve never been afraid of him before. And although I don’t think he’d ever hurt me, he scared me today. This wasn’t some stupid high school prank.

  What was he looking for, anyway? Does he honestly think something nefarious happened to Danny? His death was ruled an accident, and I easily accepted that answer—we all did—but was it because it was simply too much to bear to consider the possibility that someone hurt him on purpose? Are we being willfully ignorant? The parents in this town are professionals at pulling the wool over their eyes. Their generation is all about keeping up appearances. Speaking honestly and openly about ugly things is considered airing your dirty laundry. Living in denial is par for the course.

  I just never included myself in that category. I’ve always been a little too curious. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been interested in crime, conspiracies, and most of all, the psychology behind what makes people the way they are. Nature or nurture? Thayer once asked why I was so interested in these things, considering the vast majority of victims are women. He compared it to a fish enjoying Deadliest Catch. I told him it’s because knowledge is power. It makes me feel safer. More prepared.

  But when something tragic happens to someone you know and love, it hits too close to home. Literally. You don’t ever think things like that, whatever that may be, will happen in your town or to your family. But tragedy doesn’t discriminate. Bad things happen everywhere. To everyone.

  Or maybe, Danny’s death was just a freak accident. Maybe Thayer’s in denial and simply wants someone to blame. Far more likely.

  I sigh, slipping beneath the bubbles, submerging myself completely, and squeeze my eyes shut, overwhelmed with the direction of my thoughts. One thing is clear. The Thayer I knew is long gone, and in his place is the ghost of the boy I used to know.

  “Hey, little sister.”

  “Jesus.” I jump, not expecting Holden to be there waiting when I got out of my car. “What do you want?” I don’t wait for his reply before I weave in between parked cars on my way to class.

  H
olden falls into step with me, hooking his arm around my neck. “Can’t a guy walk his sister slash friend to class?”

  I stop abruptly, spinning to face him. “One, I’m not your sister, so stop calling me that,” I say in a whisper-yell. “Two, we haven’t been friends for a long time. You hate me now, remember?”

  “Fuck, Shayne, you want a plunger to bring up some more old shit?”

  Old shit?

  “You literally threw me into a car and kidnapped me yesterday.”

  “Again with the drama. And, technically, that was Thayer.”

  I storm off, shaking my head. Unbelievable. Holden jogs up to me and catches me by my elbow, spinning me around.

  “Listen,” he says, dropping the act. “I’ve been a dick.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “That’s an understatement.”

  “We had to know,” he continues as if I haven’t spoken, running a hand through his thick dark brown hair. “When you came back, it caught us off guard. It’s hard to know who to trust. It’s been a fucked-up year, okay?”

  I sigh, looking up at the sky to avoid his puppy-dog eyes. Leave it to Holden to use the death of his brother to manipulate me into being his friend again. And even still, knowing exactly what he’s doing, I’m falling for it, hook, line, and sinker.

  “I’m sorry if we scared you.”

  “You didn’t,” I snap a little too defensively. I clear my throat, looking around and noticing for the first time that we have an audience. “Let’s drop it, okay?”

  “Truce?” he presses, not letting me off the hook that easy. I spot Valen pushing through a group of people, heading my way, expression perplexed.

  “Fine, yeah,” I agree distractedly, not giving him a chance to reply before I break away, meeting Valen. Thankfully, he doesn’t follow this time.

  “What was that about?” she asks, linking her arm with mine. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I shake my head dismissively, still confused about the whole thing and not entirely convinced that his motives are pure. “He apologized.”

  “As he should.”

  I glance over my shoulder to find him standing in the same spot, staring right at me, except now, Taylor, Alexis, and the rest of their group are gathered around him with various expressions of contempt and confusion plastered to their faces.

  “I guess.”

  The leaves crunch beneath my feet, telling me that summer is soon coming to an end as I make my way toward the barn, and this time, I’m prepared. After school, I made a quick pit stop at home to pack a bag, stuffing it full of things I might need. A battery-operated lantern, an extra flashlight just in case, a bottle of water, a peanut butter sandwich, and, of course, my notebook. I feel like an ill-equipped toddler who’s run away from home.

  I pull one earbud from my ear, letting it hang freely so I can better pay attention to my surroundings. The last thing I need is Thayer to pull another one of his stunts. I stayed away for a few days just to play it safe, but after today, I felt an overwhelming need to purge my thoughts, and with any luck, clear my head. As if Holden apologizing wasn’t weird enough, lunchtime was even more baffling. Valen had something to do for cheer, so I grabbed a water from the cafeteria before heading out, opting to hang out in my car instead. Holden called out my name from the other end of the cafeteria, and naturally, everyone’s eyes were on me. He waved me over, gesturing for me to sit with them despite the dirty looks from Taylor, but I shook my head in answer, brows pinched together in confusion, wondering why he was so adamant.

  Once I get to the barn, I pause the podcast I’m listening to about a teenage girl who killed her own parents, ball my earbuds up, and stuff them into the front pocket of my backpack. Taking one last glance around to make sure I’m alone, I reach beneath my shirt, plucking out the necklace I tied the key to the other day. Except when I go to unlock it, I realize that the door’s not locked at all. The barn door is closed, but the lock hangs from the rusted hook, the latch open.

  I must not have realized it in my haste to get home last time.

  I pull the door open, letting a sliver of sunlight in that illuminates a path to the couch. I’ll leave it open to take advantage of the sun until it gets dark. I shrug the strap of my bag down my arm, taking a seat on top of the blanket I left on the couch last time, then pull my backpack onto my lap. Unzipping it, I pull out the lantern, my notebook, and a pen. Once I’m situated, my phone buzzes, and my mom’s picture flashes across the screen.

  “Hey,” I answer, bringing the phone to my ear.

  “Where are you? I just got home and your car’s here, but you’re not.”

  “Yeah, I dropped it off after school. I’m at Valen’s house, working on a project.”

  “Okay. So, I’m assuming you won’t be home for dinner then?”

  “They invited me to eat here if that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” she says after a pause. “Just have Valen bring you home by ten.”

  The sudden smell of smoke hits my nostrils and I freeze, inhaling deeper.

  “Shayne?”

  “Hmm?” I stand, trying to figure out where it’s coming from.

  “Ten o’clock?”

  I spin around, dropping the phone with a scream when I see a figure shrouded in darkness against the back wall. My heart stalls then starts again when I realize it’s Thayer. I can barely make out his form, sitting on an old stool, one ankle resting on his bent knee, but I know it’s him.

  “Shayne?” I hear my mom’s concerned voice float from the speaker, and I quickly bend down to pick my phone back up.

  “Sorry, dropped my phone. I gotta go, okay? Dinner’s ready.”

  I end the call before she can respond, holding my palm to my racing heart. “Jesus Christ, Thayer. Are you trying to kill me?” The insensitive words fall out of my mouth before I can take them back, but if it offends him, he doesn’t show it.

  He stands, taking another drag of his cigarette. The cherry burns brighter when he inhales, and tendrils of smoke curl through the air in front of him. He flicks it to the ground, stomping it out with his foot before he stalks toward me. “So it’s not just me then?” he asks, stopping when there are mere inches between us.

  “What?” I ask, eyebrows pinching together.

  “You lied to your mom just now. Fuck knows how many times you’ve lied to me.”

  “I haven’t lied to you.”

  He closes the distance between us, towering over me, then pinches a strand of my hair between two fingers. He muses, rubbing the strands between his fingers.

  “Why do you still come here, Shayne?”

  My eyes dart to my notebook on the couch and he follows my gaze, zeroing in on it. We both lunge at the same time, but he’s faster. I jump on his back, his front flush with the couch, but he holds the notebook out of my reach and rolls over beneath me. Suddenly, I’m straddling him, breathing heavy, and I can feel him between my legs. My eyes snap up to his. Thayer’s nostrils flare, eyes narrowing into slits.

  I swallow hard, leaning forward to reach for the notebook again, but he releases it, letting it fall to the ground with a loud smack. Hovering over him, I glance back down, seeing those dark eyes bore into mine. I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I shift my hips, grinding against him to assuage the ache between my thighs. He bites down on his lip, pulling those two silver balls between his teeth, then hooks an arm around my waist, and before I know what’s happening, he’s flipping me onto my back and sliding in between my legs.

  “Is this what you want?” he asks, bracing one hand on the arm of the couch above my head as he flexes his hips. I gasp, feeling his need pressing into me. He does it again and a moan slips free, my thighs falling open. “Fuck, Shayne.” His voice is raspy and tortured and I know he’s feeling it, too. That need that’s always there, right below the surface. I thought it would be gone now—feared it would be—with everything considered.

  Our bodies do the talking as we start to move against each other. His mouth is
so close to mine and we’re both breathing ragged, our lips brushing with each movement. His right hand kneads my chest through my shirt, and I gasp, feeling pain mixed with pleasure shooting straight to my groin.

  “Do it again,” I all but beg. “Gently.”

  Thayer only hesitates for a second before he loses the fight and circles his finger around my nipple, following the outline of the piercing. “Yeah, you’re not so innocent, are you, baby?” he teases. The throbbing between my legs intensifies and my mouth falls open as he repeats the motion to the other side. My hands fly to his shoulders, needing something to hold on to, but he captures both my wrists in his left hand, pinning them above my head.

  “Yes,” I breathe, rocking into him as my inhibitions fly out the window along with my pride. I shouldn’t let him touch me like this after the things he’s said and done, but here I am practically pleading for it.

  He shoves my shirt up my chest and I tense, halting my movements. “They’re still healing,” I explain. No matter how much I want his hands and mouth on me without the barrier of my shirt, I won’t risk it. I’m already pushing my luck letting it go this far.

  “I’m just going to look.”

  I bite down on my lower lip, suddenly feeling nervous, but I nod anyway. Slowly, he lifts my shirt, exposing my bare tits to the cold air. I shiver and he sucks in a breath at the sight. He dips his head, still holding my hands above my head.

  “Thayer,” I warn, squirming beneath him.

  “You have everyone fooled, don’t you?” he murmurs, bringing his lips to the underside of my breast, kissing the sensitive flesh. “They don’t know about this side of you,” he continues, grinding into me at the same time. “So innocent. So pure. But they don’t know what you like to do with your stepbrother in the dark.”

  The pulsing between my legs intensifies in spite of his words, or maybe because of them, and I speed up my movements, close to the edge. He gives one last lick to the swell of my breast before moving to the other side, his free hand snaking around my waist, making me arch into him.