Sweet Liar (Candy #2)(53)

“Guilty people run.” Jonah took a step toward me. “I don’t understand why you won’t tell me what the Hoyts said to you, especially if it could help your father. Is it loyalty to them that’s stopping you?”

I swallowed hard, knowing he would get to this question eventually, and also knowing I probably led him here because I wanted to tell him. Just like with my aunt, I wanted Jonah to know how wrong he was about my father.

“It’s loyalty to everyone who helped my mother,” I said, unable to resist hinting at the truth.

His brows knit together. “Your mother? What does your mother have to do with anything?”

I gripped the counter behind me and looked away because I couldn’t say any more. I shouldn’t have even told him that.

“Candy, did the Hoyts tell you anything? Yes or no?”

Shifting my gaze to him, I nodded. “But it wasn’t the information you wanted. It was personal, having to do with my family.”

Jonah stared at me like he was trying to figure something out, maybe whether he should believe me or not. As he raked his fingers through his hair, I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, wondering what he was thinking. Probably that his father was going to be very unhappy.

Eventually he released a ragged breath, and the conflict he felt was written on his face. “So you learned something, but it’s not useful to me?”

I nodded again, even though I wasn’t sure if it would be useful to him or not. What I did know was that I hadn’t found the information he wanted, and it was unlikely I ever would.

“Okay.” He nodded resolutely as if he’d made the decision to believe me. “Good.”

Good?

He stared at me for another beat before he turned with a look of determination on his face. As I watched, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping on it as he walked away.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I followed him into the living room.

“Telling my father. This means you’re done, Candy. You’re out of it now.”

Out of it. He sounded relieved, and I waited until he stopped and looked up to ask him a question. “So that’s it? He’ll believe me and leave me alone now?” It couldn’t be that simple.

Jonah pushed his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll make sure he does.”

“But now he won’t help my father because I couldn’t give him what he wanted.”

He frowned. “No. Probably not.”

I knew he would say that, but hearing my last hope disappear, no matter how small, was harder than I thought. Pressure built behind my eyes, and I didn’t want to cry in front of Jonah so I turned to walk back to my bedroom.

“Candy, wait.”

I stopped reluctantly and faced him.

“I know you’re dealing with something and you don’t want to tell me what it is. But you can talk to me. I still want to help you, even if it has nothing to do with your father or the case.”

His soft, kind tone brought the words to the tip of my tongue, but that was where they remained. “I really wish I could talk to you. If you understood more, I don’t think you’d be so hard on me or my father.”

His lips parted, and I could tell he didn’t like hearing that I thought he was hard on me or that he didn’t understand, but he turned his attention back to his phone when it dinged with a message. He glanced at it and tapped on the screen before putting it away again. “My father wants to see me. Will you be okay if I leave?”

My skin prickled. “He wants to see you about me?”

Jonah nodded. “It will be okay. I’ll be with him, so I know he won’t be here.”

His words were little comfort. “If he believes me, will he really leave me alone?”

“If you have nothing for him, I think he’ll move on to other leads.”

Jonah smiled reassuringly at my skepticism. “I have to go, Candy.”

As he gathered his things, it wasn’t only my fear of being alone that pressed in on me, it was the fact that I was going to miss Jonah tonight.

“Try to get some sleep,” he said, lightly brushing his fingertips over my cheek, making the skin there come alive. His expression was different, lighter with relief, and all because he believed he could get me off the hook now. Had my involvement been weighing on him so heavily?

After he left, it took a full minute before what just happened sank in and I could make myself move away from the door. I’d told him the truth, or rather a half truth, and now Jonah was optimistic. He believed his father would be done with me.

As I settled into bed and closed my eyes, I wished I could believe it too.





I pull open my locker and exchange my history book for calculus, and stuff it into my messenger bag. Behind me, the hall buzzes with activity as students move between classes, talking, laughing, and calling to each other. I’m not a part of the moving mass of energy today; I feel different, separate, lost in my own fuzzy thoughts.

The noise dwindles. I close my locker and walk quickly in the direction of class, not wanting to be late. Knowing the late bell will ring soon, I speed up my pace, holding my bag so the heavy books won’t knock against my hip bone.

After I turn the corner that will take me to calculus, I stop abruptly, my heels squeaking on the tile floor. The hallway is deserted except for a familiar figure standing at the end of it. His dark wavy hair is artfully mussed, pushed back off his forehead in a way that looks careless but perfect. His lips are slightly parted, and his hazel eyes focus on me.