Lies I Told(29)

“So?” Olivia prompted, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

I shrugged, measuring my response. “Nothing’s really happened.”

Olivia snorted. “Sounds like that’s about to change.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“Tomorrow night?”

I looked at her through narrowed eyes. “How do you know about that?”

She grinned. “I have my sources.”

“What’s happening tomorrow night?” Selena asked.

“Grace is going over to Logan’s to watch a movie,” Olivia said, putting watch a movie in air quotes.

I laughed and threw one of the sofa pillows at her. “Very funny.”

“Everyone knows watching a movie is code for making out,” Harper said, capping a bottle of sea-green nail polish and blowing on her fingernails.

My stomach fluttered as she said it, which was stupid. I’d made out with plenty of guys, always in the name of the con. I’d never understood what all the fuss was about. It was fun. Nice. But it was no big deal. So why did my insides flip-flop at the idea of kissing Logan?

“Maybe she wants to make out with Logan.” Rachel’s voice was even as she wiggled her toes.

Selena cut a worried glance my way.

I met Rachel’s eyes. “Would that be a problem? Because I’m not looking to stir things up.”

As long as it didn’t jeopardize the con, I didn’t care if I stirred things up. I was just playing nice, making a last-ditch effort at connecting with Rachel before I gave up on her for good.

Rachel seemed to think about it. “Go for it. I don’t want him anymore.”

Anger rushed through my body like a renegade wave. She’d said it like Logan was some kind of toy to be tossed aside when Rachel outgrew him. Like he wasn’t nice and smart and amazing. Like any girl wouldn’t be lucky to have him.

“Your loss.” I muttered the words before I could stop them from escaping my lips.

Her eyes flashed emerald fire. “If you say so.”

The room descended into an awkward silence. Finally, Olivia moved to grab her phone. “We need music.”


She was still playing around, looking for some new band she wanted us all to hear, when Rachel spoke. “Where’s Parker?”

There was an air of forced boredom about the question. Like she knew I’d see through it. Like she wanted me to.

I shrugged. “I think he might be out with the guys.”

She reached for the coffee table, grabbing one of the fashion magazines my mom kept there. “Maybe I should see if he wants to hang out tomorrow night,” she said, idly turning pages. “You know, since it’s shaping up to be a date night and everything.” She looked up, leveling her eyes at me. “Would that be a problem? Because I’m not looking to stir anything up either.”

“Not at all. Parker can do what he wants.”

She smirked, turning her eyes back to the magazine as music blasted from Olivia’s phone filling the room with electric guitar and synth so loud I felt like I was at a rave.

“You should try this one,” Selena said, passing me a bottle of pale pink polish with a sympathetic smile. “It’ll look nice on you.”

I took it, grateful for the distraction as I twisted the cap off the bottle. So Rachel was stepping up her game with Parker. So what? It was good for the con. The more people we had in play, the better. At least one of us would be on Rachel’s good side. And if anyone could handle her, it was Parker.

Still, something about it didn’t sit right. I didn’t like the idea of Rachel and Parker being tight. It wasn’t jealousy. Blood or not, Parker was my brother. It was something else. A protective instinct usually reserved for the times when Parker got lost in his own darkness. He’d always been his own worst enemy, but now I suddenly felt like there might be another threat. Someone who could do even more damage to Parker—and to the rest of us—than he could do to himself.





Twenty-Two


I was sitting at the kitchen table the next morning, flipping through a magazine, when Parker came in holding a wet towel. He set it one of the chairs and headed for the fridge.

“What’s with the vans in the driveway?” he asked.

“Allied is here talking to Dad about the new security system.” I took in his wet hair and the fine coating of sand on his tan forearms. “Where have you been?”

“Surfing with the guys.” His smile was a little sheepish. “I actually kind of like it, although I’ll have to get a wet suit if we stay here much longer.”

“I’m glad.” It was nice to see him enjoy something, and I had a glimpse of him the way he might have been, minus the foster homes and suicide attempts. Just a regular guy, surfing with his friends and scamming girls, applying to colleges and backpacking through Europe.

He pulled out a carton of orange juice and took a swig from it despite the fact that our mom had told him it was disgusting more times than I could count.

“The girls went home?” he asked when he’d drained half of the juice.

I nodded.

He closed the fridge. “How did it go?”

I thought about Rachel’s possible breach of the War Room, but it didn’t really matter. I didn’t have any proof. “Fine. I don’t think Rachel’s going to come around, but everyone else is good.”