Sweet Liar (Candy #2)(3)

I scowled at his indecision. “If my father isn’t here, where is he then?”

He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. The gesture was so familiar, it made my heart ache with the memory.

“He’s at a facility, Candy.”

The ache disappeared and my eyes narrowed. “A facility? What kind of facility?”

“The kind that doesn’t let you leave.”

He meant my father was in jail or whatever their equivalent was. “What is it you people think he did?”

Again, Jonah looked wary, as if standing here and telling me the truth was the last thing he wanted to do. He took a step closer to the bed. “There are so many things wrong with what you just asked.”

Confused, I said nothing and waited.

“I’m not you people. I’m still me.” His eyes met mine. “And we don’t think your father did something. We know he did it. We just don’t know why.”

“You work for them too?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. “The people my father works for.”

He nodded.

“Your father does too?”

Again, he nodded.

“I’ve met your father before, you know. Well, that may be an exaggeration. He ran over me on his way out of our house after breaking into it.”

“I know.” Jonah shifted his gaze away, looking uncomfortable for the first time.

“Of course you do.” I laughed miserably as I twisted my fingers in the blanket.

“Where were you going?” He eyed my suitcase in the corner.

“I don’t know.”

I’d answered honestly, but Jonah’s suspicious look made me feel empty suddenly, because everything between us was gone. Trust, affection, friendship. All gone, but really never there in the first place. He couldn’t have hurt me more if he’d stabbed me right in the heart.

“You should rest,” he said after a moment. “We can talk later.” He still wasn’t looking at me as he moved toward my bedroom door.

“Wait.” I sat up again, brimming with questions now that he was leaving, and desperate not to be left alone with my rioting thoughts. “Why did your father come over here tonight?”

Jonah paused in the doorway. Leaning against the frame, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “He came to stop you from running.”

How did he know?

At my questioning look, he continued. “Your father came to our house this afternoon. He was angry that I showed up at school today and upset you.”

I thought of the blood on my father’s face when he got home tonight. Jonah or his father had done that?

“He demanded that we stay away from you, that you had nothing to do with anything. We already knew that, but my father told him that he could end it now by turning over the information we want. Your dad agreed, but said he needed a day to gather it. He lied. He was planning to run instead. It wasn’t exactly a surprise.”

I stared hard at Jonah, looking for some evidence of who he really was, wondering how I could have missed so much. While I was worrying about my father and trying to figure out what kind of trouble he was in, Jonah knew everything, and he knew it each time he saw me.

An angry fire flared in my chest. “What do you want from him?” I asked, surprised at how much harder and stronger my voice had grown.

Jonah’s expression seemed conflicted. “It’s not up to me to tell you.”

“But you know.”

After a brief hesitation, he nodded.

“And you’re not going to tell me.” I glared at him, so tired of him and his secrets.

He shifted and pushed away from the door frame, that same look of resignation on his face. “I’m sorry, Candy. When my father gets back, we’ll talk.”

“How do you do it?” I asked. “Pretend so well.”

He looked down at the floor. “But I don’t pretend well. Do I? You figured me out, and you made your mind up about me pretty quick once you did.” His gaze came up to meet mine. “Like I said, you can talk to my father when he gets here.”

Then he left the room, and I wondered at the pain I heard in his voice. I’d hurt his feelings? Wasn’t I entitled to question him and be furious with him since he’d been pretending from the first minute I met him?

I supposed Jonah had as much reason to hate me as I did him. I was on the other side of this situation, aligned with his enemy, and I’d just shot his father. But I got the feeling Jonah was angrier that I no longer trusted him—which was crazy, because what did he expect? He was probably arrogant enough to think that the relationship he’d spent time building with me would pay off. Apparently he’d forgotten the fact that it was built on lies.

Alone in my room now, I pushed the covers off too fast and winced when my head screamed in protest. I stilled until the pain dulled, and noticed I was still in my flannel pajamas.

Had Jonah carried me in here and put me into bed? Had my father recovered enough to see me lying on the floor before they took him away? Was he worried about me? If I’d really fainted, I was ashamed of myself.

As I rested my feet on the floor, I noted the ache in my hip and the pain that radiated up my back. Closing my eyes, I recalled how hard Jonah had taken me down earlier. I knew he was trying to save his father, but it still hurt to see how clearly the line had been drawn between his family and mine.