Tell Me Pretty Lies(77)

“Not what I want to fuckin’ hear.”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Shayne, it’s that she hates being vulnerable. Especially in front of people. She acts like it doesn’t bother her that her mom’s never around, that her brother went from being her best friend to a stranger in a matter of months, but I know it does. I see her. When we lost Danny, I still had Holden and Christian. Shayne had no one. Every single fucking one of us turned our backs on her, all for reasons that didn’t have shit to do with her.

Sad blue eyes pop into my mind and I swipe my keys off the counter. Fuck it. “I’ll be back.”

Shayne isn’t Grey. Shayne is innocent. And she’s mine.

Without another word, I stride through the house and out to the Hellcat. Holden doesn’t need an explanation. He knows exactly where I’m going. I jump in, start the engine, and speed off toward her grandmother’s house.

I don’t give a fuck what happened. I lost her once. I’m not doing it again.





Shayne



The sound of Thayer’s Hellcat pulling up the drive sends a jolt of fear straight through me. Not for me. For Grey. I run out of my room and out the front door, thankful for the fact that Grey’s truck is parked in the garage.

Thayer’s slamming the door shut, prowling toward my door when I step onto the porch. When he looks up and sees me, he stops short, a surprised look crossing his features. He probably expected me to hide away in my room, which I would’ve if Grey wasn’t somewhere inside.

I’m a mess. My hair was never brushed after my shower yesterday, my face is puffy and swollen from crying and it’s free of makeup. My hoodie hangs past the bottom of my sleep shorts, and I’m wearing socks that reach the middle of my calves, but Thayer’s eyes roam my body, looking at me like he hasn’t seen me in months instead of two days.

“You need to go,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I disagree.” He takes a step toward me. “Last night—” His eyes drift over my shoulder, focusing on something behind me. His face contorts with anger, his entire demeanor shifting. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Grey asks, his tone challenging as he comes to stand in front of me. “I live here, motherfucker. What are you doing here?”

“Grey, go inside,” I say, coming around to stand in front of him, planting my hands against his chest to push him toward the door. He looks down at me, his eyes flashing with understanding.

“Is he the reason you’ve been crying all weekend?” He looks over my head at Thayer. “Did you fucking touch my sister?”

“You killed my brother. It’s only fair I fuck your sister.”

“Thayer!” I snap. What the hell is he thinking? Humiliation courses through me, my face getting hot. Grey takes advantage of my stunned state, charging past me, and judging by the look on Thayer’s face, that’s exactly what he was hoping for.

Grey throws a punch, but Thayer dips a shoulder, dodging the hit as he tackles Grey to the lawn. He raises his arm before slamming his fist into Grey’s face, the other hand gripping the collar of his shirt.

“Thayer, stop!” I run down the steps, then pull on Thayer’s arm, but he shakes me off easily.

“I didn’t fucking kill him,” Grey grunts.

Thayer lands another punch before Grey somehow gains the upper hand. They’re a pile of elbows and fists as they take turns getting their hits in until both of them are beaten bloody. If they don’t stop soon, someone’s going to be seriously hurt. I run back into the house, grabbing my phone off my bed, and call Holden.

“That was fast—”

“Holden, get over here fast. Grey’s here.” That’s all I need to say.

“Motherfucker. I’m coming.”

I drop the phone, running back outside.

“I heard you!” Thayer yells, sending another fist into the side of Grey’s face. Grey looks dazed, his eyes rolling for a second before he seems to come to. “I fucking heard it. You were with him when he died.”

What?

His elbow comes up like he’s going to hit him again, but I don’t think Grey can take another blow.

“Thayer!” My scream is desperate and guttural, surprising even myself, and I finally break through to him. He looks at me over his shoulder, fist raised, chest heaving.

“Please stop. Please, please, please,” I cry. “He’s my brother.” My voice cracks on the last word, sounding weak.

Thayer releases his hold on Grey and staggers to his feet just as Holden’s Range Rover comes barreling down the drive. He jumps out, taking in the scene before him with murder written all over his face.

Thayer bends down to grip Grey’s shirt, pulling him to his feet. “Get in the fucking car.”

“Thayer, no.”

“I’m not going to hurt him.” My face must convey how little I believe him. “Anymore,” he tacks on belatedly. “This shit ends tonight.”

Grey drags his arm across his bloody mouth, then spits onto the lawn. “Agreed.” He ambles over to Holden’s Rover, hopping into the back seat. Instead of taking the Hellcat, Thayer climbs in the front next to Holden.