Tell Me Pretty Lies(78)

If they think I’m letting Grey walk into the lion’s den alone, they’re mistaken. Before Holden can drive off, I jog over, jumping into the back seat, then close the door. Thayer’s eyes meet mine, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were full of remorse. But then he turns away, looking out the windshield.

“Bleed on my seats and I’ll finish the job,” Holden says, then he lays on the gas, heading for Whittemore.




To say this is awkward would be a massive understatement. Thayer and Holden are on one side of the poolroom, arms folded over their chests, and Grey is on the other. I stand in the middle, leaning against the pool table behind me. The tension in the room is palpable. This is the first time we’ve all been in the same room together in over a year, and my stomach is all twisted up in knots, having no idea what to expect.

“Start talking,” Holden says, breaking the tense silence.

“I didn’t kill Danny.”

“But you were there when he died.” Thayer states it as a fact, his voice void of emotion.

Grey takes a deep breath, then exhales through his nose. “Yes.”

My mouth drops open, my head whipping in his direction. “What?” I ask in a stunned whisper. I trusted him. Defended him. How could he keep something like this from me?

Grey looks at me, his eyes contrite, before focusing his attention back on Thayer and Holden. “I was supposed to meet up with him at the falls, but I found him on the shore. So yeah, I called the fucking cops. To save him.” He works his jaw. “But I was too late.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t you just say that to begin with?” I ask, confused. I want to believe him more than anyone in this room, but something isn’t adding up.

“I waited for the ambulance. I even tried to give him CPR for fuck’s sake. But Samuel got there before they did.”

“My uncle?” Holden asks, disbelief evident in his tone.

Grey nods. “He told me I needed to leave before anyone else showed up. Said there was no way anyone would believe that I just happened to stumble upon Danny’s body, and they’d take me to jail. I told him I’d already called the cops and he told me he’d take care of it. But then the police showed up before he could talk me into leaving, and they were asking all of these questions like I was some fucking murderer, and I realized he was right. They thought I did it, and there was no way to prove otherwise.”

“But my dad had the recording,” Thayer says. “He knew that you were the one who called it in. He had the police report. Why would he go out of his way to protect you?”

“Because he’s my son.”

I jump at the sound of August’s voice. It takes a second for his words to sink in, but when they do, my world tilts on its axis. My ears ring and I’m suddenly dizzy. No. No. I look over at Thayer who looks about as horrified as I feel. It’s not true. It can’t be true. But when I see Grey’s face harden with contempt, I know it is. Slowly, everything starts to click into place. My stomach rolls, and I legitimately think I’m going to throw up.

“Breathe, Shayne. I’m not your father,” August says knowingly, putting me out of my misery. “But I am his.”

“You knew,” I say to Grey. That’s why he’s been acting so strange. Well, that and the fact that he was the one to discover Danny’s body. That would fuck anyone up.

“Danny found out somehow and told me about it a few days prior. I didn’t believe him. I wanted to confront Mom and August, but Danny wanted me to wait until we had all the facts.”

“You’re my half-brother,” I say to Grey as it dawns on me. Why would our mom keep something like this from us?

I look over at Thayer and Holden to see how they’re handling the news, but they both stand there, stoic, not giving anything away.

“So, we’re back to square one,” Thayer says as if he didn’t just find out that his dad fathered another child, clasping his hands behind his head. “We still don’t know who killed Danny.”

“We don’t know that someone killed him,” August says, sounding surprised.

“I need to get out of here,” I mumble, my brain on information overload. I need air. I don’t give anyone a chance to respond before I’m heading down the stairs and out into the fresh air. I inhale deeply, pulling as much air into my lungs as I can, and then the dam breaks. I’m crying, again, and I can’t stop it.

“Shayne,” Thayer’s voice calls out behind me. I turn around, meeting his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“Then imagine what would happen if you actually tried.”





Shayne



Thanks to Taylor’s creative expression on my locker, I had to go see Miss Thomas and the principal the next day. I honestly couldn’t even tell you what was said. I sat there, nodding at the right times, giving yes or no answers. My locker had been cleaned over the weekend, but I didn’t care. The damage was already done. The days pass by in a blur. I walk through life on autopilot, feeling that same detached feeling I felt last time I had my heart trampled on. I can’t concentrate in class and I’m off my game when it comes to volleyball. I wasn’t exactly Miss Personality when our team visited colleges either, so I’m sure I made a fantastic impression on the coaches. That coupled with the fact that I didn’t play my junior year—which is arguably the most important year when it comes to scouting—doesn’t bode well for me.