Dare You to Lie

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Dare You to Lie Page 11

by Amber Lynn Natusch


  “AJ,” I said, wheeling around on the front porch as he crested the bottom step. “There is nothing to explain. I didn’t want to hear it two and a half years ago. I don’t want to hear it now. What about that do you not understand?”

  He had the nerve to look wounded.

  It was then that I really saw him. Saw a shadow of the boy I’d once known in the face of the soon-to-be-man before me. He was taller than I’d remembered, and bigger, too—more muscular. His hair had lightened with the summer sun, undoubtedly from doing two-a-days for football. I hadn’t really had the time or space in the locker room to notice these things, because my head had been ringing and I was scared out of my mind—not that I wanted to notice them now. But as he stood on Gramps’ front step, staring up at me with hopeful eyes, it was impossible not to. I could feel my gaze drifting over his body, and immediately I focused my attention elsewhere.

  AJ Miller didn’t get to know that I still found him attractive.

  That’s because AJ Miller was as good as dead to me.

  “Kylene,” he started, “I understood why you shut me out when it all happened. I didn’t push the issue at all because I knew you were hurting and embarrassed. Maybe I didn’t handle things well in the aftermath. Maybe I should have tried to talk to you right away—”

  “Your lawyer would have shit a brick if you had.”

  Though it was true, it still sounded like a dig when I said it.

  Those hopeful eyes turned to the ground at his feet, as if it would help him find a way to refute what I’d said.

  “Yes, he would have, but if it would have made a difference to you, I’d have told him to suck it and been at your side seconds later. I hated that I couldn’t be there for you. I still hate it now.…”

  I choked on a bitter laugh.

  “Jesus … it’s like you have a pornographic form of Munchausen or something. You don’t get to create a shit storm and then be there to nurse my mental wounds afterward.”

  “But I didn’t do it! I told you I wasn’t the one who took those pictures, because I didn’t, Kylene. C’mon.… We’ve been friends since fourth grade—ever since I realized that you and Garrett came as a package deal. How could you think I would do that to you?”

  My irritation and anger boiled over once again. “Because you were drunk? Because it wasn’t fourth grade anymore? Because people change.…”

  He shook his head. “We were in love, Ky—”

  “So who did it then, AJ? If it wasn’t you, then who? Because I can assure you that I didn’t whip up my shirt and start snapping pics of my boobs with your camera, and I sure as hell didn’t post them on the internet. So I’m super curious to see what your thoughts are on the matter, since you’re so innocent and all.” He opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it, snapping it shut again. “Yeah,” I scoffed. “That’s what I thought. You and all your buddies were the ones seen near the hot tub that night, and not one of you seemed to have the foggiest idea how my girls ended up on your camera.”

  “Kylene—”

  “No!” I shouted, then lowered my voice. “Don’t you dare act like you all didn’t circle the wagons and tell the same bullshit story to the sheriff. I know you did. My dad was there, AJ. You’re lucky you guys got out of the station alive.”

  “My story wasn’t bullshit,” he said calmly, taking a step toward me. “It was the truth.”

  “Yes, yes,” I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Right hand to God and the whole nine, I’m sure. You didn’t do it. You didn’t see who did. You weren’t there when it happened. Yada yada. You all got off scot-free. The end. Meanwhile, I was left to pick up the pieces of my life, which was all but ruined, thanks to you guys, and you all got to start spring training for the next football season. I think that seems fair, don’t you? Maybe that’s the price I pay for having a couple of drinks at a high school party. Maybe I brought it all on myself—”

  “You didn’t bring it on yourself,” he said, taking another step closer. There was anger in his tone, but it wasn’t for me. Maybe it was for himself.

  “And yet it happened, thanks to you.”

  He exhaled heavily before scrubbing his face with his hand, his frustration showing through. Then he lifted those piercing green eyes to me, pinning them on mine with an intensity I’d never seen from him.

  “Tell me something, Kylene: Do you think your dad is guilty?”

  “Go. Away.” I bit the words out through a clenched jaw, my fists curled at my side. AJ Miller was seconds away from swallowing teeth. I had a nasty right cross and an even nastier left elbow. One more word about my dad, and he’d have been introduced to both.

  “I know you don’t think he is. I don’t think so, either. I followed his case, and something about it never added up. Your father was always amazing to me—especially after mine left. And his reaction to what happened to you when those pictures surfaced was exactly what it should have been—pure rage.”

  “Do you have a point, AJ, or are you trying to see how far you can push me before I get stabby?”

  “My point is that despite the mountain of evidence proving otherwise, you still believe your dad is innocent, because you know him. You know his character. And you know he would never have done what they accused him of.” He paused for a second, looking at me with wide, mournful eyes. “Neither did I, Kylene. What I don’t understand is how you can’t even entertain that idea for a fraction of a second. That you can’t see the parallels between your father and me.”

  Sweet baby Jesus, I wanted to throttle him.

  “You and my father have nothing in common,” I replied, my words twisting to a snarl.

  “Why do you think I’m here?”

  “To get punched?”

  “Do you see any of the other guys that were accused standing on your front step, trying to earn back your trust?” he asked, his tone growing harsher.

  “No, because they’re clearly smarter than you are. They’re not trying to die.”

  “They’re not here because they don’t give a shit.”

  “And you do?”

  “Would I have done what I did in the locker room yesterday if I didn’t?”

  “Well, let’s be honest, if you’d stood by and watched Donovan beat the shit out of me, you’d be even lower than I thought.”

  “I was willing to throw down with that big gorilla if I had to.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see him whale on you.…”

  “If I thought it would help things between us, I would have. Gladly.”

  I hesitated for a second, my witty comeback dying on my tongue. He’d meant what he said. I could see it in his eyes—the fire. The conviction. It was enough to give me a moment of pause, however brief.

  “AJ, I have a lot on my plate right now, and making me relive that night isn’t helping. I don’t understand why you can’t just drop it or why you’re still trying to convince me that you didn’t have anything to do with those pictures. But if my forgiveness will make you go away, then fine, I absolve you of your sins. Now go away. I have bigger problems to deal with than you and your guilt.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that? That I’m oblivious to the fact that your whole world has been turned on its ass? That you being back in this town isn’t a form of daily torture? I know you, Kylene Danners. I always have. I always will. And right now, all I want is to help you. You may think that you’re hiding it well, but I can see that you’re hurting.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m not sure you’re going to be the best candidate to help me out with that.”

  He inched closer to me, his eyes locked on mine.

  “I could be,” he said softly.

  “I don’t trust you, AJ,” I said, shutting him down. “I never will. Hell, I don’t even like you.”

  “Because, to you, I was guilty before proven innocent! You never even gave me a chance.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it just as fast. Though I was loath to
admit it, he was right. I hadn’t given him a chance to tell me his side. But I sure as hell wasn’t about to in that moment. As far as I was concerned, that issue was dead and buried. And even if I’d wanted to dig it back up, I could see Garrett’s truck coming down the street. He definitely wasn’t going to let me entertain forgiving his ex–best friend.

  “Garrett’s here,” I said with a little less heat in my tone.

  AJ scoffed and shook his head.

  “Of course he is.” He backed down off the bottom step. “Come to save the day, no doubt.” He walked toward his truck as Garrett approached, and my heart rate sped up. Clearly things between them weren’t good, but maybe they were worse than I imagined. Maybe I was going to have that scene in Gramps’ front yard whether I wanted one or not. “I wonder if you ever asked him where he was that night … if you would have turned on him, too.”

  AJ jumped into his truck and turned it on as Garrett threw his in park and jumped out, storming toward AJ’s driver’s side door. The truck sped off just before he reached it. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  “Why the hell was he here?” Garrett asked as he approached.

  “Pleading his case while throwing a little shade.”

  Garrett shook his head.

  “Like he has any room to do that.”

  “Right? And at you, no less.”

  “Me?” he said, sounding as shocked as I was. I simply nodded in response. “Unbelievable.”

  “Yeah, well. He’s really pushing this whole ‘Forgive me because I didn’t do it’ thing. Maybe he thought making someone else look bad would help? I don’t know. All I do know is that he was surprisingly convincing.”

  “Not convincing enough.”

  “Yeah,” I said absentmindedly, looking off in the direction AJ had fled. “I guess not.” I let my gaze drift back to Garrett, who was standing next to me on the porch. “So, what’s so important that you had to come over and talk to me about it?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing crazy. I was just hoping we could hang out. Maybe get a bit caught up on the past two years. You know. Basic small talk kinda stuff.”

  “How are you at math? Still good?”

  “Total nerd. Why?”

  “Then welcome to casa de Gramps. Feel free to stay as long as you prove yourself useful in the completion of my catch-up homework.”

  He laughed as he opened the screen door for me.

  “I accept your terms.”

  * * *

  “I really am sorry that I ditched you when we moved,” I said softly.

  Garrett straightened up in his chair and put his pencil down on the kitchen table. He took a deep breath, then lifted his eyes to mine. They were sad and warm, and full of things he wanted to say but never would. One of Garrett’s greatest gifts was his ability to forgive, if he deemed you worthy of it. But even better than that was his ability to forget.

  “Water under the bridge, Ky.”

  “I know it is. I just wanted to say that.”

  He smiled.

  “And I appreciate it. I’m just glad to have you back. Life in Jasperville is way less entertaining without you around to help get me in trouble.”

  “You mean you couldn’t find someone to TP your neighbor’s car with? Or change the letters on the drive-in sign to say some highly questionable things?”

  “Oh, my God,” he laughed. “I totally forgot about that.”

  “How could you forget? I took that movie title and elevated it significantly.”

  “Or made it as offensive as possible.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “What about you? I’m pretty sure I got my fair share of groundings because of you.”

  “I still maintain that it was not my idea to cling-wrap that deputy’s cruiser shut.”

  “You bet me twenty bucks I wouldn’t do it!” I screamed, chucking my empty backpack at his head.

  “Nobody said you had to take me up on it.”

  “You manipulated me into doing it because you know I can’t say no to a dare.”

  “Clearly. Our dads were so pissed at us,” he said, looking off in the distance and smiling. “I missed having my partner in crime.” He returned his gaze to me. Instead of the hint of sadness I expected to see, I found a nervousness in his expression. He looked like he had something he wanted to tell me—something I probably didn’t want to hear. But if it had to do with how things were in my absence, I’d hear it anyway. I owed him that much.

  “Do you want to say something? Tell me something?”

  “Because caring and sharing is suddenly your thing?”

  “It could be if you needed it to.”

  “Thanks,” he replied with a laugh. “But what I really want from you is to finish this homework here so we can watch a movie or something before my eyes start to bleed or I die of boredom.”

  “Deal.”

  We spent the next hour or so flying through my makeup assignments for math class. Once we finished, Garrett sprang out of his seat and made a beeline for the couch, jumping over the back of it to land perfectly on the other side. He snatched up the remote and turned it on, pulling up the guide so he could scroll through it. He’d already stretched out, taking up the entire sofa.

  “Make yourself at home,” I said, rounding the couch to sit in the well-worn armchair next to it.

  “Okay, so our choices are horror flick or something that looks sci-fi–ish.”

  “Sci-fi. I’m actually trying to sleep tonight.”

  “Agreed.”

  He changed the channel to the movie that had started fifteen minutes earlier, leaving us to try to sort out what we’d already missed. Within minutes I was totally engrossed, but Garrett seemed distracted. He kept checking the time on his phone, and his gaze would occasionally fall to the far side of the room where the window to the front yard was.

  “Do you need to go?” I finally asked. “You seem anxious about something.”

  “I’m good. Just don’t want to get home too late on a school night.”

  There was a lack of conviction to his answer that didn’t sit well with me. I leaned forward in my chair toward him, wanting to better assess his expression in the darkened room, but the deep growl of a diesel engine speeding down the road distracted me. So did Garrett’s reaction to it.

  He shot up off the couch and darted to the window, threw back the curtains, and stared in the direction of its approach. I could see the tension in his body, the moonlight illuminating the muscles in his forearms. His hands gripped the fabric a little too tightly.

  “Get down!” he shouted, then launched himself at me, knocking me over. A second later I was sprawled out on the floor with Garrett’s arm still wrapped around me.

  “What the fu—?”

  The sound of glass shattering shut me up in a flash. It rained down around us, tinkling like bells as it hit the hardwood floor. The brick responsible for breaking the window landed only inches from my head.

  When Garrett deemed it safe to move, he jumped up and ran for the front door. He tore it open and darted out into the front yard. I wasn’t far behind. The two of us stood there in the darkness, staring at the red glow of taillights disappearing around the corner at the end of the street. I couldn’t make out the vehicle model, but I had a feeling it didn’t matter.

  My guess was that Garrett was all too aware of who had paid Gramps’ house a visit that night.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes still wide and wild with adrenaline.

  “I’m great. Now, do you want to tell me what the hell that just was?”

  His features tightened.

  “My guess? Donovan Shipman.”

  Even though I half expected to hear it, that name said aloud was a healthy wake-up call.

  “You knew he was going to do something, didn’t you? That’s why you wanted to come over tonight. Why you were so antsy.”

  “I overheard him talking to his boys in the hall today. Something about paying someone a little v
isit tonight. At first, I didn’t really believe him—I thought he was just running his mouth—but the more I thought about it, the more I got worried. So I came over to make sure you would be okay. I thought maybe my truck out front would deter him, if he planned to actually follow through.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me? Or tell your dad for that matter?” Garrett’s expression darkened further. I knew that he and his dad hadn’t been close for a long time—that their opposite natures often made it hard for them to maintain a good relationship—but despite their differences, Garrett still loved his dad. At least I thought he did. However, standing there in Gramps’ front lawn, his vandalized house behind us, I started to second-guess that. “What? Why are you making that face, Garrett? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I’m not sure it would have mattered if I’d told my dad,” he said, his voice empty. For whatever reason, he couldn’t bear to look at me. Instead, he stared over his shoulder at the gaping hole in the front window, awaiting my reaction.

  “Garrett, your dad is the sheriff. He’s kind of a big deal. Of course it would matter if he knew.”

  “Maybe.” When he finally turned to face me, there was a mess of emotions swirling in his gaze. Too many to count. Too many to name. “We should go inside,” he said, leading the way to the front door.

  “What do you mean ‘maybe’?” I grabbed his arm to stop him before he reached the house. His face was cast in shadow, but what I could see in it scared me. I knew that face. I’d seen it once before. He wore it the night he got the call that his mother had been in a head-on collision with a drunk driver and was being flown to Columbus Regional Hospital. The disbelief and fear marred his expression.

  I saw it again that night on Gramps’ front steps.

  “Donovan’s going to hurt you, Kylene. I know it. And I can’t let that happen.”

  “It’s just a window, Garrett. He seems to have a thing for breaking them—”

  “This isn’t funny!” he shouted, grabbing my arms and shaking me lightly. “He’s going to keep messing with you because you have a big target on your back now. He’ll hurt you because he can, do you understand me? Because he knows he can.” He paused for a moment to let the gravity of that statement sink in. He knew I was stubborn to a fault—that I had a thick skull. If I didn’t want to hear the truth, I could easily play things off so that I didn’t have to. But Garrett was having none of that. I was going to hear him that night, whether I liked it or not. “I don’t care what AJ told you, Ky. How under control he thinks he has the situation. He’s a liar and a prick. And he doesn’t know what I know. He didn’t hear what I heard.”

 

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