“Of what?” he asks, his eyes void of emotion.
“Losing you,” I say honestly. “I don’t…”
“What?” His dark eyes bore into mine, waiting for my response.
“I don’t want to feel that again. And there’s just so much shit between us, between our families…I don’t see how this won’t end badly.”
Thayer steps forward, erasing the space between us. “Fuck our families. I just got you back. I’m not letting you go any time soon.”
“What?” My eyes snap up to his. “But what if Grey—?” I can’t even finish the sentence.
“Then we’ll deal with it.”
“So, what now?”
“Now, you walk your ass over to that table.”
Heat spreads through me at his words. I look up at him, questioning, and he pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it onto the sofa. I swallow hard, my eyes eating him up.
“Shayne.”
Right. Table. I pad over to the small rectangular black table, then turn around to face him, bracing my hands on the edge.
“Up,” he says, lifting me onto the tabletop. My palms land behind me to keep myself upright, my knees bent. Thayer’s hands glide up my legs and my breath catches when they dip under my dress. His fingers curl around my baby pink thong, sliding it down my thighs. He pulls it past my shoes before letting it fall to the floor.
“Spread your legs for me, baby.”
Thayer’s eyes are glued between my legs as I slowly let my thighs fall open, feet planted on the table. He brings a hand underneath my dress that’s bunched up at the top of my thighs, pressing his thumb against my clit. I gasp, my eyes falling shut at the sensation.
“Show me those pretty little tits.”
I lean forward, pushing down the straps of my dress before I pull my shirt off. Goosebumps break out over my skin and my nipples tighten.
“Lean back on your elbows.”
I do as he says as he unbuckles his pants, pulling a condom out of his back pocket before he pushes his jeans down his legs. He fists his length, stroking up and down as his hungry eyes look their fill. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I’m practically shaking with anticipation. Wanting to break his control, to push him to touch me, I lick my middle finger before bringing my hand between my thighs. I use that finger to rub myself, and his eyes flare at the sight. I lift my knees higher, only the toes of my tennis shoes touching the table now as I slip my finger inside.
“You’re so perfect,” he mutters, and then he’s leaning in between my spread legs, capturing my nipple with his lips.
“Thayer,” I say, arching into his mouth. His teeth tug on my piercing and I hear the condom wrapper tearing open before he rolls it down his length. He helps me to my feet, then spins me around to face the table and I stumble forward, my hand holding on to the edge of the table as Thayer jerks my dress up over my hips. He lifts one of my knees onto the table, and then he’s pushing inside me, hands squeezing my waist as he groans in pleasure.
“I’m not letting you go,” he says again, his palm gliding up to lightly grip my throat, keeping my back to his chest as he snaps his hips forward. “But if I find out Grey did it, I won’t show him any mercy.”
“I know.”
He presses his lips to my spine, kissing me, and then he’s pushing my chest flat against the table.
“Good.”
“Why don’t you ever go to class?” I ask, coming up behind him as he stands at the kitchen counter, circling my arms around his bare torso. After Thayer fucked me on the table, we went at it twice more. Once on the floor, and once on his couch, right in front of the glass window. Sometime around nine o’clock, we realized we needed sustenance, so he ordered pizza. I’m sore and sated and sleepy, trying to soak everything in before we have to go back to reality tomorrow.
“It felt wrong.”
I press my cheek against his back, my hands flattening on his stomach as I wait for him to elaborate.
“Moving on with my life, going to college…Danny was supposed to be here for all of it. It feels like I’m leaving him behind.”
My thoughts drift back to when Valen said she hadn’t seen him for months. She was as surprised to see him in Sawyer Point as I was. “Is that why you came home?”
He captures my wrist, examining the faint lines the lightning left, his thumb rubbing across the sensitive skin. “I came back for you.”
“No, you didn’t.” I laugh. “You hated me.” Sometimes, I still think he might on some level. My biggest fear is that he’ll never be able to see me the way he did before the accident.
“I never hated you. I hated that I couldn’t have you.”
Shayne
Yawning, I trudge into the kitchen to make myself a late-night snack after finishing up the homework I fell behind on. Between Thayer keeping me up all night last night and my game after school today, I can barely keep my eyes open. Not that I’m complaining. It was worth losing sleep and the grief Coach gave me for missing practice.
I grab the cheese and butter from the fridge before I pad over to the stove. I move on autopilot, getting the frying pan and buttering the bread, lost in thought, when I hear the sound of breaking glass coming from the other room. I jump back with a scream, and then I freeze with my hand over my mouth. When I don’t hear anything else, I blindly slap a hand onto the counter behind me, feeling around for my phone. I back into the pantry, shutting the door as quietly as possible as my shaky fingers manage to click on Thayer’s name.
“Shayne?” he asks, concern evident in his tone. I never call him.
I cup my hand over my mouth and the speaker of my phone, trying to keep my voice low. “I think someone just broke into my house.” My heart threatens to pound out of my chest.
“We’re coming,” he says immediately. “Where are you?”
“Hiding in the pantry.”
“Good. Stay there. Don’t come out until you hear me.”
A weird scent hits my nostrils and I inhale, trying to place it. It smells like…burning fabric.
“Shit,” I curse.
“What?” Thayer barks into the phone.
“I think I smell something burning.”
Thayer’s panicked voice yells something to Holden, presumably, and then I hear the telltale sign of his Hellcat. He says something else, but adrenaline has my pulse pounding in my ears, making it hard to hear.
I slowly open the pantry door and peek my head out. When I don’t see anyone, I grab the frying pan off the stove and rush out, running toward the front living room, confirming my fear. A small fire blazes on the floor in front of the broken window. “There’s a fire,” I manage to say before I drop both the phone and the frying pan.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I chant, trying to form a coherent thought. Fire extinguisher. I know I saw one somewhere when we moved in. I jog over to the entryway closet and open the door, spotting the red container on the shelf above my head. I push up onto my toes to reach it, stretching my arm as far as possible, the tips of my fingers barely grazing it. I jump up, trying to knock it off the shelf, but I only end up pushing it back farther.
I yank a hanger from beneath a coat and use that instead. “Come on, come on.” Finally, I’m able to scoop it off the shelf and catch it before it hits the floor. I rush over, willing my shaky hands to comply long enough to do what needs to be done. Pulling on the ring, I squeeze down on the handle, and then a white cloud explodes from the nozzle, extinguishing the fire.
Pounding at the front door makes me jump, but then I see a stunned Holden standing in front of the shattered picture window. I hurry over to unlock the door and Thayer storms in, surveying the place.
“You okay?” he asks, looking me over.
Still in shock, all I can do is nod.
“I’m going to check the woods,” Holden says before he takes off, and then Thayer’s pulling me into him, prying the extinguisher from my fingers until it falls to the floor.
“You sure you’re okay?�
� His palms cup my face, forcing me to look at him.
I nod again and his fingers curl around the nape of my neck as he bends down to give me a quick kiss on the lips.
“Did you see anyone?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I was just making something to eat and heard the window shatter,” I say, gesturing toward the huge hole in my window. “And then I called you.”
“You didn’t call the cops? Or anyone else?”
“Just you. I figured you were closer—” I start to explain, but he cuts me off.
“No, you did good. This is good.”
He steps away from me, feet crunching through the broken glass, and then he’s crouching down, plucking something from the floor, inspecting it.
“What is it?”
“It’s a piece of a beer bottle.”
“Nothing,” Holden announces, appearing in the doorway before he walks over to Thayer. “Whoever it was is long gone.” He flicks his chin toward the glass pinched between Thayer’s fingers. “Molotov cocktail?”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Thayer agrees. They exchange a look that puts me even more on edge.
“What does that mean?”
“It means this was no accident.”
I sit cross-legged on the couch as Thayer and Holden stand in front of me.
“You’re going to tell me this is Taylor’s work, too?” Thayer says to Holden who shakes his head.
“No. The other shit, maybe. But this is too far, even for her.”
“Maybe it was just a random prank,” I offer, knowing damn well it wasn’t. But the alternative freaks me out too much to consider. They both pin me with a glare, and I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “Or maybe not.”
“Besides Taylor, is there anyone else who has something against you?” This comes from Thayer.
“Just you guys,” I quip, but my joke falls flat.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Shayne,” Holden snaps.
I draw back, surprised by how upset he seems to be.
“You’re staying here until your mom gets back,” Thayer says.
“What?” I stand, the blanket falling from my lap onto the floor. “No. If you didn’t notice, there’s a giant hole in my living room. I can’t leave it like that. And I need to call my mom.” Something I’m dreading.
“We’ll have your window fixed, but you’re not staying there alone. In fact, you’re not even going to take a piss alone until we figure out who’s behind this.”
“Thayer.” That’s ridiculous.
“This isn’t some prank, Shayne. Someone tried to hurt you. Do you get that? Do you realize what could’ve happened? A couple more seconds and the flames would’ve hit those curtains and your whole house would’ve gone up in flames. With you inside.”
“He’s right,” Holden says, arms folded over his chest. “We already buried one sibling.”
Okay, just punch me in the gut, why don’t you.
“What about your dad?”
“He stays at his apartment in the city. Now that the memorial has passed, he has no reason to come around. And if he does, then fuck him. What’s he going to do?”
“Tell my mom,” I state the obvious.
“Fuck her, too,” Thayer spits. “Let’s not act like either one of them has ever bothered to be around for their kids.”
I want to argue that my mom is there for me in the only way that she can be, that everything she does is to give Grey and me a good life. But it’s not the time. And he does have a point. Regardless of reasoning, they’re largely absent from our lives. We’ve always taken care of ourselves. It’s what we do.
“Fine.” I fall back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over me.
“We’ll take you to grab some shit after school tomorrow,” Thayer says, and then he’s walking toward his room without so much as a goodbye.
“I’ll grab you a pillow,” Holden offers, scratching the back of his neck.
“Thanks.”
He’s only gone for a minute, and I’m already starting to doze off, my head resting against the arm of the couch. It’s as if all the adrenaline wore off, leaving me completely drained. My mind goes crazy trying to process tonight’s events, but my body gives up.
Holden returns, handing me the pillow. He hesitates like he’s going to say something, but reconsiders. “Night.”
“Night,” I say, scooting down and stuffing the pillow under my head.
I don’t know how much time passes when I’m startled awake by someone lifting me off the couch. My heart hammers in my chest as my disoriented brain attempts to wake up.
“It’s me,” Thayer’s deep voice rumbles close to my ear.
I relax instantly, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his bare chest as he carries me up the stairs and into his bedroom. He sits on the bed before he lies back, bringing me with him. His arm is underneath me, holding me close, my head on his chest, my thigh hitched up over his legs, and I slip back into sleep, feeling far too safe for a girl whose heart is in danger of being broken again.
Shayne
“Shayne.”
Thayer’s voice breaks through my consciousness. My mind slowly comes out of my sleep-induced haze, and I blink up at a ceiling that isn’t mine, feeling warmth next to me. Then it all rushes back to me. The window. The fire. Thayer bringing me up to his room sometime in the middle of the night. “I was hoping it was a dream,” I grumble, rolling over and burying my face into Thayer’s pillow.
He’s still shirtless, lying on his back next to me. “Nope. And you’re going to be late for school. Holden’s in the shower, so unless you want him to find you in my bed…” he trails off, waiting for my response.
I sit up quickly, running my hand through my hair. “I’m up.”
Thayer reaches over to hook his hand behind my knee, pulling me over to straddle his stomach. I brace my hands on his chest as his palms flatten on top of my thighs, his fingers slipping under the hem of my shorts, but they don’t go farther than that. “You good?”
I nod, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“We’re going to find out who did it.”
“I know.”
The sound of footsteps in the hall has me rolling off him. I stand, moving away from the bed just as Holden throws the door open, looking between us with suspicious eyes. His hair is wet and he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black sweats that read Stop Looking at My Dick across the crotch.
“You are not wearing those to school.” I laugh.
“Watch me.” He bounces his eyebrows. “Ready to go?”
I look down at my sleep shorts and spaghetti strap crop top. “Do I look like I’m ready?”
Holden claps his hands together. “Well chop-chop, baby sister.”
I move past him, heading downstairs to grab my backpack. I hastily shoved some clothes inside, grabbing the first things I saw before Thayer and Holden dragged me out of my house last night, which happened to be a pair of boyfriend jeans with holes in the knees, and a tight, plain black t-shirt. I top it off with Thayer’s hoodie, spend two minutes in the downstairs bathroom to brush my teeth, and throw my hair into a ponytail. I pause, looking at my tired reflection. My eyes are puffy, and my cheeks are red, but I didn’t bring any makeup, and truthfully, I don’t care enough to try this morning.
My stomach rolls with the anxiety that only let up while I was next to Thayer. I know it was ‘just’ a window, but the thought that someone might actually want to hurt me—really harm me—has me feeling ill at ease.
“Let’s go,” Holden hollers, pounding on the bathroom door.
I flinch, taking a deep breath, and wipe the miserable look off my face. I swing the door open, giving him the middle finger. He lunges forward, trying to bite it as I walk by, but I’m quicker. We make our way to the door, and Thayer’s standing in the foyer, waiting.
“Watch her.”
I roll my eyes. “No one’s going to do anything at school.” I’m freaked out, but even
I know this is overkill.
“Maybe not, but if you watch for the signs, you might find out who’s behind it. Pay attention. If someone’s watching you for a reaction, if you notice people whispering when you walk into a room—”
I huff out a laugh. “Welcome to my everyday life.”
“Not just that. Pay attention to the people who aren’t talking to you. If they’re feeling guilty, they’re likely to avoid you.”
“Somehow I don’t think this person holds any guilt where I’m concerned,” I mutter.
He looks to Holden. “Did you fill Christian in?”
“I will at school. Operation Smother Shayne is in full effect,” he says, throwing an arm over my shoulder.
Today should be fun. And by fun, I mean not at all.
“Are you okay?” Valen asks, squeezing in between Holden and me at the lunch table. Christian sits across from us, doing something on his phone. I sent Valen a text last night, but we were late to school, so I didn’t have time to fill her in on all the details this morning.
“Yeah.” I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “Just a little creeped out.”
“So, what exactly happened? Someone threw some kind of firebomb through your window?”
“Molotov cocktail,” Holden says around a mouthful of his burger. The sight of it makes me nauseous. Anxiety from everything going on has killed my appetite.
Valen wrinkles her nose at him. “What is that?” She picks at a piece of her soft pretzel and pops it into her mouth.
“Less dangerous than a firebomb. Usually meant to intimidate or send a message rather than do actual damage,” Christian chimes in. “Just be glad you were in the kitchen when it happened.”
“That’s actually kind of a relief,” I say.
“Okay, but it’s fire. Fire is never not dangerous. Who the hell would do that?”
I shrug, just as clueless as she is.
“Do you want to sleep at my house for a while? You know you can stay however long you want.”
“No can do,” Holden butts in. “She’s staying with us.”
Tell Me Pretty Lies Page 21
