One of Us is Lying(88)

I brandish Simon’s manifesto like a shield. “This is good enough. This, and your word, is plenty.”

“What would even happen to me?” Janae mutters under her breath. “I’m, like, aiding and abetting, right? Or obstructing justice? I could wind up in jail. And Jake has that recording hanging over my head. He’s already pissed at me. I’ve been too afraid of him to go to school. He keeps stopping by and—” The doorbell chimes, and she freezes as my phone rings out with a text. “Oh God, Addy, that’s probably him. He only ever comes by when my parents’ car isn’t in the driveway.”

My phone blares with a message from Cooper. Jake’s here. What’s going on? I grab hold of Janae’s arm. “Listen. Let’s do to him exactly what he did to you. Talk to him about all this, and we’ll record it. Do you have your phone on you?”

Janae pulls it out of her pocket as the doorbell rings again. “It won’t do any good. He always makes me give it to him before we talk.”

“Okay. We’ll use mine.” I look into the darkened dining room across from us. “I’ll hide in there while you talk to him.”

“I don’t think I can,” Janae whispers, and I give her arm a hard shake.

“You have to. You need to make this right, Janae. It’s gone way too far.” My hands are trembling, but I manage to send a quick text to Cooper—It’s fine, just wait—and get to my feet, pulling Janae with me and shoving her toward the door. “Answer it.” I stumble into the dining room and sink to my knees, opening my phone’s Voice Recorder app and pressing Play. I put it as close as I dare to the entryway between the dining room and the living room, and scoot against the wall next to a china cabinet.

At first, the blood rushing in my ears blocks out every other sound, but when it starts to recede I hear Jake’s voice: “… haven’t you been at school?”

“I don’t feel well,” Janae says.

“Really.” Jake’s voice drips with contempt. “Me either, but I still show up. Which you need to do too. Business as usual, you know?”

I have to strain to hear Janae. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough, Jake? I mean, Nate’s in jail. I realize that’s the plan and all, but now that it’s happening it’s pretty messed up.” I’m not sure the phone’s going to be able to pick her up, but there’s not much I can do about it. I can’t exactly stage-direct her from the dining room.

“I knew you were freaking out.” Jake’s voice carries easily. “No, we fucking can’t, Janae. That’d put us both at risk. Anyway, sending Nate to jail was your choice, wasn’t it? That should’ve been Addy, which is why I’m here, by the way. You fucked that up and need to turn it around. I have some ideas.”

Janae’s voice gets a little stronger. “Simon was sick, Jake. Killing yourself and framing other people for murder is crazy. I want out. I won’t tell anybody you’re involved, but I want us to—I don’t know—put out an anonymous note that says it was a hoax or something. We have to make it stop.”

Jake snorts. “Not your call, Janae. Don’t forget what I have on hand. I can put everything on your doorstep and walk away. There’s nothing to tie me to any of this.”

Wrong, asshole, I think. Then time seems to stop as a text message from Cooper crosses my phone with a loud blare of Rihanna’s “Only Girl.” You ok?

I forgot the all-important step of silencing my phone before using it as a spy device.

“What the hell? Addy?” Jake roars. I don’t even think, just take off out of the dining room and through Janae’s kitchen, thanking God that she has a back door I can burst through. Heavy footsteps pound behind me, so instead of going for Cooper’s car I run straight into the dense woods behind Janae’s house. I fly through the underbrush in a panic, dodging bushes and overgrown roots until my foot hooks under something and I tumble to the ground. It’s like the gym track all over again—knees torn, breath gone, palms raw—except this time my ankle’s twisted also.

I hear branches crashing behind me, farther away than I would have thought but heading straight to me. I get to my feet, wincing, and weigh my options. One thing’s sure after everything I heard in the living room—Jake’s not leaving these woods till he finds me. I don’t know if I can hide, and I sure as hell can’t run. I take a deep breath, scream “Help!” at the top of my lungs, and take off again, trying to zigzag away from where I think Jake is while still getting closer to Janae’s house.

But, oh God, my ankle hurts so badly. I’m barely dragging myself forward, and the noises behind me get louder until a hand catches my arm and yanks me back. I manage to scream once more before Jake clamps his other hand over my mouth.

“You little bitch,” he says hoarsely. “You brought this on yourself, you know that?” I sink my teeth into Jake’s palm and he lets out an animal sound of pain, dropping his hand and lifting it just as quickly to strike me across the face.

I stagger, my face aching, but manage to stay upright and twist in an attempt to connect my knee to his groin and my nails to his eye. Jake grunts again when I make contact, stumbling enough that I break free and spin away. My ankle buckles and his hand locks around my arm, tight as a vise. He pulls me toward him and grips me hard by the shoulders. For one bizarre second I think he’s going to kiss me.