Tell Me Pretty Lies(3)
It’s coming down much harder than before, and I’m instantly soaked from head to toe. The sky is dark grey and angry, barely visible above the trees. Thunder booms again, followed by a flash of light that illuminates the forest for a fraction of a second.
“Shayne!” Thayer’s voice breaks through the heavy rain. I cross my arms and continue toward my house.
Thunder rolls and lightning follows again, much sooner this time, telling me the storm is moving closer. I push wet hair out of my face, squinting to see through the rain.
“What the fuck, Shayne,” Thayer booms, running up behind me. I turn to face him, his dark, wet hair falling in front of his eyes. “Are you crazy?”
“You told me to leave!”
“Well, now I’m telling you to get your ass back inside the barn!”
I shake my head as the thunder booms once more. I know I’m being unreasonable. Now is not the time to hold anything against him. But I can’t help it. I turn back around, heading for the house. We’re only slightly closer to the barn anyway, and I’d rather get somewhere warm. But then Thayer’s hand is gripping mine, pulling me back toward him.
A loud crack splits my ears as another flash of light appears, interrupting us. Both Thayer and I look over to see a bolt of lightning hit a tree only feet away. It blazes down the tree in a straight line, chunks of bark flying off. I stand there, wide-eyed, staring at the smoke that follows.
“We need to leave.” Thayer grabs my hand again, jerking me out of my stunned state. When we touch, I feel a jolt shoot through my thumb and down my wrist, and I drop his hand like it’s on fire.
“What was that?” It doesn’t exactly hurt, but I definitely felt something.
Thayer frowns, bringing a hand up to grip his bare shoulder, but he doesn’t respond. He felt it, too.
“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Holden calls out, running up to us from the direction of the house. “The old man’s about to lose his shit.” He looks between the two of us, Thayer shirtless, his belt buckle still undone, and me, shoeless, looking more like a wild animal than a girl.
I freeze, not knowing how I’m going to explain, but Thayer’s quick on his feet, even three sheets to the wind.
“Pretty sure she just got hit by some ground lightning,” he says, gesturing to the tree that’s still smoking. “She should probably get to the ER.”
“What? No, I’m fine,” I insist, shaking my head.
Ground lightning? Is that what that was? I barely felt it.
Holden rushes over to me and Thayer takes off, giving me one last look over his shoulder as Holden inspects me for damage. I can’t pry my eyes away from Thayer, standing there in the pouring rain with his bare, tan chest heaving, perpetual frown in place. Somehow, I know that for the second time this week, everything is about to change. I feel it in my bones.
And I can’t shake the feeling that Thayer just said goodbye.
For good.
After Holden and I walked back to Whittemore, my mom took one look at my appearance and quickly shooed me into the upstairs bathroom, demanding answers. I sat there like an infant on the toilet seat while she helped me out of my drenched clothes before turning on the shower, letting steam fill the room. I didn’t need the help, but I knew she was hurting and concerned, so I let her tend to me the way mothers do before I assured her that I was okay and asked her to leave.
I don’t know how much time has passed since she left, but I sit here on the tile floor with my arms wrapped around my bent knees, letting the hot water fall over me. Tears stream down my face as I think about Danny.
Daniel Ames is, to put it simply, the town’s golden boy. Star basketball player. Loved by all and had his whole life ahead of him. Until everything changed in the blink of an eye. He fell from a cliff that he’d jumped off so many times before, but this time, it killed him. Six broken ribs. Two punctured lungs. The official cause of death hasn’t been released, but from what the police told August, he most likely drowned.
My lungs constrict and my chest grows tight at the thought of how panicked he must have felt. I shake the thoughts from my head, not allowing myself to imagine his final moments. When the water runs cold, I peel myself off the floor, reaching for the towel hanging on the wall and wrapping it around me.
Eyes puffy and emotionally exhausted, I quietly tiptoe out of the bathroom, planning to duck into my room without anyone noticing, but I pause in the hallway when movement inside Thayer’s room catches my attention. The door is cracked, and Thayer sits on the edge of his bed, inspecting his arm, and I gasp before quickly slapping a hand over my mouth. It’s red and blistered from shoulder to wrist in a pattern that almost resembles branches.
Or lightning.
Instinctively, I look down at my wrist. It bears the same exact pattern, except mine is smaller, running from my thumb to the inside of my wrist—and much less severe. I frown, running my thumb across the tender flesh. If it wasn’t for the slight tingly numbness, I might’ve forgotten about it altogether. Thayer’s, though…the skin is raised, oozing, and angry, and definitely in need of medical attention.
I decide to tell him as much, taking a small step forward, but I hesitate when someone else steps into view. Her back is to me as she saunters toward Thayer, but I recognize the dress from earlier. Taylor Sanders. My already wrecked heart takes another beating as I watch her drop to her knees in between his spread legs. Something inside me cracks open as her dainty, manicured fingers reach for the button of his pants. How can he let her touch him like that when he was with me only hours ago?