Lies I Told(39)

“Probably the hot tub,” Harper said, toweling her hair dry until it stood up in short spikes around her pixie face. “Logan’s mom likes it hot.”

“You want to lie down?” Logan asked. “You can take my room if you want.”

“I should take her home,” Parker said. He was leaning against the wall, his eyes dark. Logan glanced back at him. “Why don’t you stay?” Logan said to him. “I can run Grace home.”

Parker’s eyes flashed blue fire. Logan was implying he was drunk, and Parker knew it.

“I’m fine to drive,” Parker said. “I only had three beers.”

Liam clapped him on the back. “Hate to break it to you, bro, but that’s three too many to make you a safe driver.”

Parker shook off his hand and looked around the room. His eyes fell on Logan.

“Sorry, man. House rules,” Logan said.

“I can drive,” I said. “I had half a beer two hours ago. And I’m just a little under the weather. I don’t have the plague.”

“You sure?” Logan asked.

“She’s sure,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes. “She’s not made of glass. If she says she can drive, she can drive.”

Logan nodded slowly. “Okay, then.”

I got dressed and Logan walked Parker and me to the car. Parker slammed the passenger side door, leaving Logan and me to say good-bye in private.

I sighed. “Sorry about Parker.”

Logan gave me a half smile. “Don’t sweat it. He just had one too many beers.”

“Yeah, but he kind of ruined the mood in there.”

He pulled me close. “It was just an excuse to hang out with you. Besides, it’s a weeknight. Everyone will be heading home soon anyway.”

Wrapping my arms around his torso, I felt the ripple of muscle in his back. I inhaled the smell of him—chlorine and trees, surf wax and the sea—and laid my head on his chest.

“Think you’ll be at school tomorrow?” he asked.

I looked up at him. “Definitely. I just need a good night’s sleep.”

He leaned down and touched his lips lightly to mine. “Feel better, Grace.”

I nodded and got in the car.

“And text me when you get home safe.” He shut my door.

I reversed and then put the car into gear, starting down the driveway. It was so dark I could only make out the trees lining the driveway. Beyond them, everything was black.

Parker sulked, slouched in the seat next to me. I waited until we’d passed the gates, already open when we got there, to speak.

“What the f*ck are you doing?” I asked him softly.

“What the f*ck are you doing, Grace?” I thought his words were a little slurred. I was glad Logan and everyone else had put their foot down about him driving.

“I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.” I was careful. Careful not to violate the rules by saying something I shouldn’t.

“I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing, too,” he said, glaring at me from the passenger seat. “Looking after you.”

“By getting drunk?”

“It was a party,” he said. “I thought I was supposed to fit in.”

I turned onto the main road leading home. “In case you didn’t notice, that’s not exactly what you were doing.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he muttered, turning his head to the window.

“You shouldn’t,” I said. “You’re not doing us any good acting this way.”

“And you are?”

Anger heated my face, rushed through my bloodstream like a wildfire. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“By being Logan Fairchild’s main squeeze?” he sneered.

I turned onto Camino Jardin, surprised by the hatred I suddenly felt for him. “Yes.”

“Driving around in the BMW, hanging out at the big house, being wined and dined by Mr. Trust Fund Baby . . . must be tough.”

The sarcasm in his voice made me want to slap him. I pulled in front of the house and turned off the car. Then I took a deep breath, listening to the tick of the engine as it cooled.

Finally, I turned to him. “You might not see what I’m doing as important. You might think it’s all fun and games, that I’m enjoying my time with Logan. You might even be right. But while you were getting smashed, acting like a spoiled four-year-old, ignoring everyone we’re supposed to be working, I was casing the house. I was looking for the gold, for cameras along the driveway.” I met his eyes across the darkened car. “What were you doing?”

I got out and slammed the door. He didn’t follow me inside.





Thirty


It was a Friday afternoon in early November when I came downstairs to find the Allied installation team packing up and leaving. Selena had talked me into joining her for a walk at the Cove, and I had come home from school to change into jeans and a sweater. I grabbed an apple from a bowl on the kitchen table as my mom closed the front door on the last of the installation workers.

“Is that it?” I took a bite of the apple, avoiding her eyes. It had been two weeks since my argument in the car with Parker after Logan’s party, and I still felt guilty about breaking the War Room rule. Parker’s attitude, and my own anger toward him, had made me reckless. I considered confiding in my mom, telling her everything—Parker’s increasingly sullen moods, his unwillingness to integrate with Logan’s group, the darkness that seemed to be eating him alive all over again. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know what my dad would do to Parker, but he’d already been warned. We weren’t there yet. Things were still under control. More or less.