Tell Me Pretty Lies(24)

“He’s busy with school.” I lunge for my phone, but he raises his arm, holding it out of reach. A dark look passes over his features, but he schools it quickly.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. What do you know about Danny?”

I shake my head, confused, and open my mouth to tell him again that I don’t understand, but he cuts me off before I can.

“About…that night,” he clarifies. His jaw is tense, eyes sad, and for a brief second, I forget that he’s holding me here against my will. I forget all the mean things he’s said and done, and I just want to wrap my arms around him. But then his mask slips in place, reminding me that the old Thayer is nowhere to be found.

“You know what I know,” I say quietly, hoping Holden doesn’t pick up on it. I was with him when we found out, after all. “He fell at the falls.” I try not to choke on the words.

“He fell,” he repeats flatly. “Come on, Shayne. You’re going to tell me that you—the girl who listens to murder podcasts and has a conspiracy theory for every goddamn thing—thinks it’s likely that my brother happened to go for a swim in fucking thirty-degree weather? Alone?”

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.”