Bury Me with Lies (Twin Lies Duet Book 2)

by S. M. Soto

  “I know. I get that. Doesn’t make it hurt any less. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think you still are.”

  “What?”

  “Blinded by revenge.” She pointedly looks at the screen. At Baz. My heart clenches. “You went all the way there for what? Another broken heart?”

  “I went for the truth. I know he didn’t kill her. I can leave him alone now.”

  “Why, though? Why not tell him how you feel?”

  “Because…” I trail off, glancing down at my nails to avoid her gaze. “Too much has happened. How is he going to ever trust me again? And how can I trust him after seeing him with those women in his bed? I can’t forget that.”

  Kat sighs as though I’m a lost cause. “For what it’s worth, I think going your separate ways is a huge mistake on both of your guys’ parts.”

  I don’t respond. I’m afraid if I do, I might let the truth slip free, that I do, in fact, think she’s right. About everything.

  “So, where are you staying?” Jack asks, as he types away on one of his many computers. Ever since I walked in, he’s been on edge. He keeps glancing at me out of the corner of his eye and asking random questions about how my day is and other unnecessary stuff.

  My brows fall inward. “Kat’s letting me stay with her until I can find my own place. Still pretty deep in debt, so if you can magically make that go away, that’d be great.”

  He casts a dry look my way. “I think you have me doing enough already. Cool your jets.”

  Jack gets back to tapping away. After my meeting with Baz, I asked him if he could find out what the rest of the guys were up to. Sure, Baz was in the clear, but that didn’t mean I believed the rest of them were innocent. I didn’t suddenly forget that Vincent almost succeeded in murdering me or that Zach tried to suffocate me.

  Baz wasn’t there nine years ago when they made that summer the worst year of my life. Their constant taunting. He wouldn’t understand. They were afraid of me. They wanted to keep something hidden from me, and I refused to believe it had anything to do with some stupid sex tape. I’m still reeling over that bit of information. I knew Maddie wanted in. She wanted one of them to notice her, but they always turned her down, or at the very least, that’s what she led me to believe.

  How much about my twin didn’t I know? Even though things weren’t the best between us, I thought I knew her, but now, I’m starting to see I didn’t really know anything about her at all.

  “Have you found them?”

  “I have. All except this Vincent guy.”

  My body tenses at the mere mention of his name. I can’t hear it without remembering that night. The images hit me in sporadic flashes. Running from him, the gun, swerving off the road. The absolute hatred that was in his eyes as he lodged the metal deep into my abdomen. I trace my fingers over the protruding scar through my shirt, hating the tremor that sails down my spine.

  The hate I harbor toward him is unreal. Even if it comes out that he didn’t hurt her, which I doubt is the truth, I’ll still hurt him for what happened that night of the accident. Nothing about my life will ever be the same. My body will never look the same, and my chances of carrying a child in the future? He may have very well ruined that for me.

  I don’t believe for one second that he isn’t guilty. No one would go to the lengths he did to cover a fucking sex tape. This depth of hatred shared between us will never be done. We have unfinished business, and I’ve resigned my fate and his. I am determined to find him because this time around, I am going to be the one to end this.

  He’ll be the one I bury in the ground.

  “Where could he be?” I grit out, mostly to myself. Where would he run to hide if not to Baz? “What about the rest of the guys? Find anything interesting on them? Are they up to anything shady?”

  He shakes his head, then dives into the details about their everyday routines. Nothing he says stands out. And nothing certainly screams murderers trying to flee the country. I wish I had a front-row seat into their minds, so I’d know what they’re thinking—what they’re up to.

  “I did find something while I was digging. I don’t know how I missed it before, but…” He sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck like he normally does when he’s uncomfortable with something. “But I think you need to see this.”

  My stomach clenches at the severe look on his face. Whatever he found, that’s why he’s acting this way. He doesn’t know how I’m going to react. And honestly, I’m not sure how much more I can handle.

  “What is it?” He hands a file over to me, and I stare down at it for a beat, before I find the courage to open it.

  I flip through the pages, my brows furrowing. Jack starts to explain, likely reading the confusion written all over my face. “When you were a senior in high school, did you get a full-ride scholarship to Nebraska?”

  “Yeah, but I ended up going to New York instead. The brochure was filled with trees, and everything somehow still reminded me of Madison. Nothing in New York reminded me of her. That was the one place I knew she would’ve never wanted to visit. Why do you ask?”

  “Benedict Pierce is the reason you got that letter and that full ride. He donated three million at the start of the year, around the same time you were admitted. Why else would he do that? It was tough, but I traced things back, and my gut tells me it has something to do with what happened to Madison that summer.”

  I fall back against his couch, trying to process this. I’ve never had a conversation with Baz’s father. I’d see him around town a few times, but he was richer than sin, and back in Ferndale, he was royalty. Royalty didn’t walk on the street amongst the everyday peasants. They sat in their towers and looked down on the poor and lowly class. So, no. Benedict had no reason to go out of his way to donate three million dollars to a college his son wasn’t going to attend. He had absolutely no reason to secure me a full-ride scholarship to a college, all the hell the way out in Nebraska.

  “I just don’t understand. Why would he do that?”

  “Did you ever consider maybe Baz wanted you far away from Ferndale and his friends in case you caused any more trouble?”

  No, I haven’t, but now I am.

  Was Baz telling the truth when we last spoke? Or was it all more lies?

  I intend to find out. Consequences be damned.

  “You okay?” Jack asks, having already moved away from his laptop, now taking the spot next to me on the couch. “You sort of look like you’re going to pass out.”

  I cough, shaking my head clear of the new theories that are now flooding my brain. “I’m fine. Just hungry. Should we get food?”

  He seems taken aback by the request. “Right now?”

  “Yup.” I grab my purse and start walking toward the door, waiting for him to follow. We take the subway to one of my favorite delis. Jack is quiet, letting me process. I think he senses I need it. Once we’re seated, I dig my cell out of my purse and toy with it. Tossing it from hand to hand, I finally bite the bullet and tap out a message to Baz. I guess he was right. We aren’t done after all.

  I’m pleasantly surprised when I get a text from Mackenzie asking to meet. Satisfaction rolls through me in waves. I can weather whatever it is she throws at me. I just need to see her again—to have her close. Without giving it a moment’s thought, I have Dan set up a flight. I want to be in New York as soon as possible.

  She’s not going to like having me in her space, but tough fucking luck. I’ve done enough waiting—all the waiting my patience can handle, in fact. She’ll have to deal with it. Los Angeles is my turf, New York is probably hers, and Ferndale is our middle ground. But I know Ferndale holds the worst memories for her, and that would never be a possibility for us. I’m not ready to go back there so soon after just taking a trip to see her parents.

  “Since you’ll be in New York soon, I thought you’d want to see this,” Dan mentions, after confirming my flight details, showing me something that has my blood boiling. I tense up when I open h
is email with the photographs attached. I asked Dan to have someone keep an eye on Mackenzie while she’s in New York. At first, I told myself it was because, since she was under my care now, I needed to know she was okay at all times. But it wasn’t just that. And Dan certainly knew that.

  The first image is one of Mackenzie standing on the sidewalk on her phone, staring off at something in the distance. The next photo is her standing next to a man wearing a hoodie and a ball cap. Most of his face is shielded from the camera view, but not all of him. They disappear into a building that’s behind him, and I narrow my eyes. The email lists details and times. How long she stayed. What times this man normally comes and goes. I click onto the next photograph and grit my teeth so hard my jaw starts to ache.

  Mackenzie is sitting with the same man inside of a restaurant, a sandwich in one hand while she’s mid-laughter. The man across from her is laughing with her, and they both look absolutely smitten, and fuck, if that doesn’t make me angry. Jealousy surges through my body, prompting me to open and close my fists as I work through my anger, trying not to lodge my fist into the first thing I see. My temper only grows when I see the date stamp for those photos.

  Today.

  The same day she requested we meet.

  Seems my Dirty Girl is up to something again, and I’m going to figure it out. I plan to stay two steps ahead of her at all times. I’m not making the same mistakes I did last time. I let her in, and she lied. She isn’t going to have the chance to do it again.

  I’m running the show now.

  With my back resting against a winged back leather chair, I cross my ankle over my knee and get comfortable. It doesn’t take long for them to get home. But I already knew that. I was banking on the element of surprise, actually.

  I hear the key in the lock, and before I know it, the lights are flipped on, and the figure steps in, shutting the door. By the time he glances up, it’s too late. His eyes widen, and alarm lights his features. He darts his gaze around his studio, panic clearly written all over his face.

  “Nice place.” I set my arms on the armrest of his chair, making him uncomfortable. He’s afraid. I can see it in his eyes. It’s obvious he knows who I am, which means he knows exactly why I’m here.

  “How’d you get in here?” he asks, trying to keep the tremor from his voice, but I detect it anyway.

  “I have my ways. Though I give you credit. I wasn’t able to look through anything you have here. Which I assume is filled with details of my life? For Mackenzie?” I wave my hand around us, toward the computers and wires dangling from every corner. There isn’t a shortage of technology here. Jack Lane has all his bases covered.

  His face pales at my question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I push up from his chair, and he jerks away from me, dropping the bag that’s in his hand. He tries to run, reaching for the front door, but I cross the room. Gripping him by the back of his neck, I slam him against the wall.

  “What are you doing for her?” I ask, squeezing.

  “Nothing. I swear,” he chokes.

  I smirk down at him, and he cowers in fear. “Try again, Mr. Lane.”

  “She’s my friend. That’s it. We just hang out when she needs someone to talk to.”

  My lips press together. I don’t like that answer. It’s almost worse than her hiring him to help her. If they’re friends, there’s a chance he wants to fuck her, and that’s just not going to happen.

  “Is that so?” I ask, my voice eerily calm. His throat works a swallow beneath the pressure of my hand. It would be so easy to crush his windpipe. But I obviously can’t do that. Mackenzie would never forgive me.

  “Y-yeah,” he chokes. A flash of rebellion enters his eyes. “And don’t you even think about hurting her.”

  My brows jump into my hairline. “The savior complex, is that what this is, Jack? Because it doesn’t suit you. Stick to hacking. That’s what you’re good at. And just a quick piece of advice.” I lean in, leveling our gazes, and I squeeze a little harder to drive my point home. “She’s mine in every way that counts. If you’re hoping you can save her, you can’t. I don’t like it when people try to take things that belong to me, Jack. Stay away from her.”

  I toss him away, and he skids to the floor, barely catching himself. He rubs at the skin of his throat, choking on air. “She doesn’t want me, you idiot.”

  “Listen to me, Jack. If you lay a hand on my girl, if you so much as even think about laying a hand on her, you’re done. You will be the first person I kill. Got me?”

  I walk past him, heading for the door. “And get some new fucking locks,” I toss over my shoulder, leaving him behind. Out in the hall, I glance down at my watch. That took a little longer than expected, but I still have enough time to make it back to the place I’m staying before Mackenzie gets there. I told her to meet me there, so we could talk about whatever it is she thinks she knows the answer to now.

  By the time I get to the condo, I have just enough time to pour myself a glass of scotch, before I hear knocking on the door. When I open it, I do expect to see Mackenzie, but definitely not this version of her. The one brimming with anger, it’s practically steamrolling from her ears.

  Fucking hell.

  The second I see Baz and how handsome he looks today, my anger slams into me again. Why does he always have to look so effortlessly hot? With his stupid sexy eyes and his stupid long hair. The entire way here, I’ve been stewing over the news Jack gave me. It could mean nothing, it could be coincidental, but I know that isn’t true. I am still shouldering so much anger. I am angry with him for the gala, for those women in his bed, for his assistant Mia.

  When my Uber pulled up to the address he sent, I couldn’t stop the eye roll. Of course, his rich ass would secure a condo of this magnitude in New York this quickly. It is disgusting how rich he is sometimes.

  My grip tightens around the paper that’s now crinkled in my hands. I storm past him and then whirl on him. He’s wearing dress pants and a white button-down, his tie long gone, the first few buttons undone, exposing his tan chest. I slam the paper in his chest, shoving him back with it.

  “Mind telling me why your father got me a full ride to Nebraska my senior year?”

  Something lights his eyes, and he sighs. “Fucking Jack.”

  My heart stalls. Fear curdling on my tongue. “What did you do? How do you know Jack? You better not have hurt him. He’s innocent.”

  He scoffs. “Your precious little boyfriend is fine.”

  “Answer me, Sebastian.”

  “He’s at home in one piece, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I grit my teeth. “Answer my goddamn question, Sebastian, or so help me God.”

  “Because I told him to.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He walks away from me, and I chase after him. “No, no, no. You don’t get to do that. You do not get to run away from this conversation. Tell me the truth right now!” I yell, my voice cracking, echoing around us in the luxurious space. He grips the ledge of the windowsill, dropping his head down. He’s suddenly tense, and I sense whatever it is that’s he’s going to tell me is going to change everything.

  “Sit down.”

  My lips thin. “No. I’m going to stand. Start talking.”

  “Sit down!” he yells.

  “No!”

  He suddenly whirls around and throws his glass, and it shatters once it hits the wall. My heart stalls, and my breath lodges in my throat. I glance at him warily, taking note of the anger pouring off him in waves.

  “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t kill her, but I did something far worse.”

  I fall into the chair at his words, just as he knew I would. “What did you do?”

  My body is trembling, and my stomach is twisting in knots as my tears hang on the edge of my lashes, on the verge of slipping.

  “We all have roles in our lives, and in my friendship with the guys, I was the person they came to w
hen they needed something to be taken care of, and when I got back from Brazil, Vincent needed me to do something.”

  He turns, facing me, and I see the guilt in his eyes. I clamp my back teeth together, pain lancing through my chest. “Just say it. Just fucking say it, you bastard.”

  “They were at the kissing rock that night when they stumbled on…” He clears his throat, and my chest cracks. The entire earth shifts beneath my feet. “She was in the woods. Zach went to see if she was breathing, accidentally touched her, and got her blood on him. He freaked out, and they all made the decision to get rid of the evidence that they were ever there that night.”

  My chin wobbles as I work to control my emotions. They touched my dead sister.

  They stripped her of her clothes to protect themselves.

  “They were scared you’d keep coming after them, so they asked me to take care of it.”

  Slowly, I meet his gaze, and the tears slip free. He winces and looks visibly hurt. This is the first time I’ve ever seen so much emotion reflected on his face. He’s usually so closed off. So good at hiding what he’s feeling or what he’s thinking, but I feel like I can see it all right now, and it hurts. I feel like I can’t breathe.

  “And did you?” I ask, my voice a mere whisper.

  “Not in the way they wanted, but yes.” Remorse. It’s written all over his face, so I look away from him, waiting for him to go on. “I had my dad get you a full ride, so I could get you far away from Ferndale. From them. Told them I took care of it, and I let them believe whatever they wanted to believe.”

  “So you lied to me?”

  “I didn’t lie—”

  “You lied!” I yell, my chest heaving. “You told me you had no idea who I was. You said I wasn’t even on your radar. You covered up my sister’s murder!”

  “I didn’t know you then. Not like I know you now.”

  “You still don’t know me!”

  “Mackenzie.” He sighs, rubbing at his temples as though I’m the one who’s frustrating. “I never meant to hurt you.”