Tell Me Pretty Lies(76)

I see the muscle in his jaw flutter beneath his skin, but he still doesn’t speak.

“If you let me walk out that door, Thayer, I promise you I won’t be coming back,” I manage to get the words out without my voice cracking. Tears stream down my face and I hate that they do. I hate that he’s seeing me break. Thayer’s eyes flash with something, his eyebrows tugging together, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he turns away from me.

“I guess I have my answer.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, feeling my temper flare. How can he be so cavalier when my heart feels like it’s being smashed into a thousand pieces? “You’re an asshole. I don’t know who’s worse. The self-serving boy who’s afraid of feelings, or the idiot who fell for it. Again.”

I shouldn’t be surprised. Deep down, I always knew it was going to come to this. We ignored harsh truths for temporary bliss. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. I storm down the hall and over to his room, holding on to the anger that courses through me, knowing it’s only a matter of time before it turns into heartbreak. I haphazardly throw all my shit into my bag. Unzipping the front pocket, I pull out the makeshift necklace Thayer made with the barn key, squeezing it in my palm before I toss it onto his bed.

It’s time to let him go.

Head down, I jog down the stairs, bag over my shoulder. Somehow, my feet get tangled up in the strap to my bag in my haste to get out of here, but two strong hands shoot out to catch me before I fall, steadying me. I right myself, pulling away to find Holden standing in front of me with something that looks a lot like pity in his eyes.

Without a word, I move around him, slip my shoes on my feet, and walk out of Whittemore. For good.




To my credit, I managed to make it all the way home before I broke. I turned my phone off and left it downstairs, then crawled into bed where I’ve been ever since, with the exception of using the bathroom a couple times. A day ago, I would’ve been scared to be here alone at night. Funny how heartache overrides fear.

I lie in bed, my cheek against my tear-soaked pillow, wondering how Thayer was able to do a complete one-eighty in such a short period of time. And why? Because Holden found out about us? But he seemed fine afterward. He sure didn’t seem to have a problem with it when he was buried inside me five minutes later. It had to be something else. He was in Danny’s room when I found him, and my gut tells me what I’ve been ignoring all along. No matter how much he might want me, his resentment is stronger.

“Shayne?” Grey’s voice calls out, startling me out of my thoughts. What the hell? I sit up in my bed, quickly drying my face with the bottom of my shirt, then press the heels of my hands against my puffy eyes, taking a deep breath. I drop my hands just as my door swings open, revealing Grey with his brown hair curling over the edges of his backwards Red Sox hat.

“What’s wrong?” he says, immediately stepping into my room.

“What are you doing here?” My hoarse voice sounds foreign to my own ears. I haven’t uttered a word since I left Thayer’s yesterday. God, I’m pathetic.

He frowns, his eyes searching mine. “Mom left a message saying she was going to be out of town and told me to come check up on you.”

I huff out a bitter laugh. “Well, I’m fine. You can leave now.”

“Yeah, you really seem fine,” he retorts, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“It’s a little late to start giving a shit.” I’m being an asshole, and I don’t even care. I’m sick of the secrets and lies, I’m sick of always trying to fix everything and everyone, and I’m sick of being an afterthought.

Hard eyes meet mine for a beat, and then he’s backing away, closing the door behind him. I flop back down on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

Sometime after the sun goes down, there’s a knock on my bedroom door. I blow out a breath, swinging my legs over the side of my bed and trudge toward the door. I open it, fully expecting to go another round with Grey, but instead, I find a bowl on the floor. Oatmeal with brown sugar. And a slice of toast.

My chin wobbles. I miss my brother so much it hurts, but how can we even begin to fix things if he won’t be honest with me? I take the bowl and toss it on top of my dresser. I have no appetite to speak of.

I crawl back into bed, put some Netflix on my laptop, and eventually pass out.





Thayer



“Are you gonna tell her?” Holden asks, elbows leaned up against the kitchen counter.

“Eventually.” I have to. I just haven’t figured out how. When she found me in Danny’s room, I was still raw and half-drunk. I couldn’t talk to her, not in there, of all places, even if I was coherent. I stayed up all night thinking about what the fuck that nine-one-one call means for us. I went from resenting her for Grey’s part in Danny’s death to trying to protect her from the truth in a matter of weeks. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but judging by the look on her face, I ended up doing it anyway. I could practically hear her heart breaking, and I just sat there, not knowing what the fuck to say or do to fix it.

I knew I fucked up when I saw the barn key on my bed. Shayne loves the barn as much as I do. Maybe even more. The fact that she gave it up tells me all I need to know. She’s done. And I can’t even blame her.

“You should’ve seen her face, man. I’ve never seen her like that.”