These Dirty Lies Read online

  Harleigh wasn’t one of them. She wasn’t. But my eyes weren’t deceiving me. She was standing right fucking there. The same girl I’d always known and yet different somehow. I needed to get closer, to see her eyes. Her expressions. To hear her voice. It wasn’t something I wanted to do. It was something I needed to do. Like breathing air or drinking water.

  Without it, I wouldn’t be able to rest.

  To survive.

  I wouldn’t be able to move the fuck on.

  But I couldn’t exactly scale the fence and stroll up to them and ask for five minutes of her time. If she saw me. If they saw me…

  No, I’d have to be patient. Bide my time and wait for the right moment.

  They disappeared into the house and disappointment curled in my stomach, my mind running wild with scenarios about the guy. Who was he? How did he know Birdie? How well did he know her?

  Anger bubbled in my chest, burning me up on the inside. I’d always thought of her as mine. Even when I hadn’t been old enough to realize what that word meant, the connotations it held.

  Mine.

  Mine. Mine. Mine.

  Except she wasn’t mine now.

  Maybe she never had been.

  Nix

  “What ya crying for?” I asked the dark-haired girl with the big green eyes. I’d been heading to my friend Zane’s trailer when I saw her, sitting on her porch steps, crying into her hands.

  She went to my school, but I hadn’t talked to her before now. She was always on her own, doing a whole lot of nothing as she hung outside her double-wide, quiet and uncertain.

  Like right now. She rubbed her eyes, blinking up at me. “I-I… nothing.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed a sob.

  “Is it your dad? My dad makes me cry sometimes.” He was a mean sonofabitch, always grumbling about something.

  I knew he blamed me for my mom leaving. Not that it made any sense to me. It wasn’t like I wanted her to leave. If anything, we should have been a team, hating on her together. After all, she’d left us both. But no, he preferred to blame me. As if I chased her away.

  I would never understand it, or him. But it was what it was. Joe Wilder was as stubborn as they came.

  “I don’t got a dad,” the girl said through her tears. “It’s just me and my mom but she’s… it doesn’t matter.” She wiped her face with the back of hand.

  “I’m Phoenix but my friends call me Nix.”

  “I’m Harleigh Wren Maguire. But you can call me Harleigh.”

  “Wren like the bird?”

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Cool. Did you eat dinner yet? I’m going over to my friend’s house and his grandma makes the best hot wings in the whole of The Row.”

  “Oh, I’m not supposed to leave the porch alone.”

  The corner of my mouth tipped into a smirk. “Good thing you won’t be alone, Wren like the bird. I’ll protect you.” I puffed out my chest. “What do you say? Wanna come eat hot wings with me and Zane?”

  She chewed on the end of her thumb, big eyes darting up and down the dirt road outside her trailer. “I don’t know, she might wake up.”

  “Wake up?”

  Her eyes widened with fear. “I-I mean… forget I said anything.”

  “Why don’t we go ask her, your mom, I mean.” I stepped closer to her. “I’ll tell her I’ll look out for you and we can—”

  “N-no.” She leaped up. “That’s okay. She’s sick, we probably shouldn’t disturb her. I’ll come with you. But only if you’re sure.”

  “Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Come on Wren like the bird, I’m starving.”

  Harleigh Wren was quiet as we walked the short distance to Zane’s place. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She was small for seven. A fragile little thing. Seemed right that she was called Wren, she reminded me of a bird. Tiny and helpless. Me, Zane, and our other friend Kye camped out once in Kye’s backyard and spent all night listening to the birds. I liked listening to them, watching them too.

  Kye was lucky, his family had one of the modular prefabs. It was on a bigger plot on the other side of The Row. They had a driveway and a small yard. It was one of nicest homes in the whole of the trailer park.

  “You okay over there?” I asked her.

  She glanced up at me and nodded.

  “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  “Not unless I have something important to say.”

  “I’ll have to remember that.” I chuckled, relieved that we’d reached Zane’s trailer. “So don’t worry about Zane, he… uh—”

  “Who’s your new friend?” He appeared, eyes narrowed right at Harleigh Wren.

  “This is Birdie.” The words tumbled out, but it sounded right. Harleigh Wren like the bird. “She lives in the trailer across from mine.”

  “Okay.” He frowned. “But why is she here?”

  “Because she needed a friend, and she looked sad and lonely on her porch.”

  Birdie sucked in a sharp breath, flicking her eyes to mine as she hovered behind me. Zane’s eyes narrowed again. Zane didn’t like outsiders; he didn’t really like people. Sure, he liked me and Kye and his gran. But Birdie wasn’t a threat. She was too small and fragile for that. He only had to look at her, with those big green eyes and the way she stood huddled in on herself to see that she was scared.

  And if she was scared, that meant she needed someone to protect her.

  “I don’t know, Nix. You know my gran doesn’t like strangers.”

  Code for: I don’t like strangers.

  “Yeah, but I couldn’t leave her there, Z. She was so… sad.”

  “Uh, fine. But remember she’s a girl, Nix. And my gran says you can’t never trust a girl.”

  My dad said something similar.

  I glanced back at Birdie, and she flashed me a small smile. Surely, she couldn’t cause that much trouble.

  I decided right there and then. Birdie was sad and lonely, and something told me she didn’t have many friends.

  But I could be her friend.

  I could protect her.

  Harleigh

  “This was a good call,” Miles said as we headed toward the bench, ice cream cones in hand.

  I’d gone for something classic. A simple mint choc chip. It reminded me of better days. Of being a kid and playing over at Mrs. Feeley’s house while my mom slept off another hangover. She always kept a pint of ice cream on hand for the days when I was sad about my mom. Me and Nix would easily get through half the tub before she pried it off us and made us eat something nutritional.

  “Harleigh, you going to stand there all afternoon?”

  “W-what?” I blinked and realized my mistake.

  Miles and Celeste were already seated at the picnic bench. I’d obviously zoned out again.

  “Sorry.” I slid in next to Miles and he grinned at me.

  “Have you been here before?”

  “No. It’s pretty.”

  “Wait until the season changes, the leaves turn these amazing gold and red colors. It’s really something.” His eyes twinkled with excitement.

  “You’re really into the trees, huh?” I said, fighting a smile.

  “I-I… uh, I guess.” He stuttered out, rubbing the back of his neck, and Celeste smothered a laugh.

  “Relax, Miles,” I added. “I’m teasing you.” My lips pulled into a thin smile.

  “So how was your first day?”

  “I survived. Guess that’s the best I could hope for.” Taking a bite of ice cream, I tried to ignore their heavy stares. “Nate tried to talk to me in fourth period, it was weird.”

  “Ugh,” Celeste grumbled around her ice cream. “He is such an ass.”

  “Miller’s pretty harmless. But if Marc Denby says anything again, Harleigh, I want you to tell me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Miles gave a small shrug. “So I can beat his ass, obviously.”

  “I don’t want you to fight over me,” I said.

  “It wouldn’t be fighting over you,” he corrected. “It would be helping you.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Marc has it in for me…”

  “Because of Phoenix Wilder, right?”

  Wow. Miles went straight for the jugular.

  I threw him an incredulous look and he rolled his eyes. “Come on, Harleigh. People talk. The kids at school talk. And no one talks louder than Marc Denby and his guys. Rumor has it you and Wilder were—”

  “Don’t,” I snapped, my appetite recoiling as much as my heart.

  “Shit, sorry. It’s a sore subject, got it. I won’t mention him again.”

  “Good, don’t.” I leaned over and dropped the remainder of my ice cream cone into the trash can.

  Pulling my legs up onto the bench, I folded my arms around my knees and dropped my chin onto them. Miles was right, it was beautiful out here. The big idyllic oak trees gave it an ethereal atmosphere. The chime of a child’s laughter and the gentle whir of the generator from the ice cream stand only added to the ambience.

  I focused on the sounds, losing myself in the caw of the birds; the rush of water as kids played at the small water table in the park, shrieking with delight every time it overflowed, soaking their bare little toes. The gentle ripple of the breeze whistling through the trees. That was the sound I loved the most. I could get lost in it, especially when I felt it brush the back of my neck.

  Miles and Celeste chatted beside me, giving me space to just be in the moment. Miles probably thought I was meditating or something, but I didn’t care. It was hard work always being present. Always staying engaged and active. Sometimes it was like having a parasite living inside me, and at any moment, it could take my body hostage, forcing it with its will. Sometimes, like right now, that meant crashing, retreating into myself to the point of silence. Other times, it meant lashing out. Screaming and yelling and crying and destroying things. Hurting things.

  Usually myself.

  Although my medication controlled that side of things much more effectively than it did this side.

  “Hey, Harleigh.” A hand touched my shoulder and I almost jumped out of my skin. “Shit, sorry,” Miles said.

  “No, it’s okay. I was just…”

  Celeste gave me a sympathetic smile. She was used to me checking out.

  “It’s peaceful out here,” I added. “I like it.”

  “That’s good, really good.” Miles rubbed his jaw. He looked so clean cut and well put together, so different to the boys I was used to. His smile was easy, warm and inviting.

  I liked Miles, I did. But he also scared me. The way his eyes lingered a little too long, searching for my secrets. The things I didn’t want to share or confess.

  “Have you thought about any extracurriculars this year?”

  “Who, me?” I glanced at them both.

  “Well, yeah. It’s senior year. College applications are looming.”

  “Oh, I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “But it’s college? Your future. Surely you have some plans for—”

  “Miles.” Celeste shook her head again.

  “Nope,” I said. “I’m taking each day as it comes. Focusing on the little things. The rest will be there when I’m ready to—”

  Raucous laughter filled the air and we glanced over to find a group of kids from school goofing around with a football. One of the guys tackled one of the girls and she shrieked, trying to escape his clutches.

  “I really hate those guys,” Miles muttered.

  “Who are— Oh.” Marc Denby appeared, arm slung over a pretty blonde girl I’d seen around at school.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here before they notice us.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I didn’t want to deal with Marc again. Not here. Not with his friends in tow.

  We slipped out of the park unnoticed. At least, I thought we had until a trickle of awareness went through me. Discreetly glancing back, I scanned the park, expecting Marc to be watching me. Glaring at me. But he wasn’t even looking this way, too busy feeling up the blonde.

  My brows furrowed as I did another sweep of the surrounding areas. I’d felt it, a zap of trepidation that went through you when you knew you were being watched.

  But there was nothing.

  With a frustrated breath, I hurried after Miles and Celeste, shaking off the sensation.

  Maybe you really are losing your mind, Harleigh.

  After giving me a drive-by tour of the town, Celeste and Miles decided to introduce me to Strike One, Old Darling Hill’s bowling alley. Everything was bigger and better and sleeker than any bowling alley I’d ever seen. It was an old industrial unit that had been renovated and turned into a boutique establishment. Dark brown leather booths serviced each lane, giving an air of privacy. The balls weren’t the usual neon colors but muted tones of brown, black, gold, and gray. Even the pins didn’t have the usual twin rings of red around their necks but instead a thick gold and black band. A bar made from industrial grating and steel pipes lined the far wall, complete with brown leather stools that looked almost as comfortable as the Chesterfield sofas dotted around the place.

  “Neat, huh?” Celeste said as I followed them toward the back of the room. Past the bowling lanes and the couches to an archway that led to another space that housed a number of retro video games, foosball, air hockey, and a couple of pool tables.

  “Could be worse,” I said with a dismissive shrug.

  The truth was, it was kind of cool, and maybe in another life, I would have appreciated its industrial, edgy appeal. But I was exhausted. Emotionally spent from my first day at school, of constantly keeping myself in check.

  “Want to play?” Miles asked, flicking his head to the games.

  “I’ll watch.”

  “Suit yourself.” He handed the other cue to Celeste who grinned.

  “Prepare to go down, Mulligan.”

  “Oh, it’s like that, huh?”

  The two of them were so freaking cute, but I wasn’t sure either of them realized what they had. People often didn’t until it was too late.

  I shut down that line of thought. Going back there—to The Row, to my life before—it did me no good. Dredged up a whole lot of heartache and pain for no damn reason.

  Pulling out my cell phone, I opened up a social media app and hovered over the search bar. It was a dangerous game I liked to play sometimes, toeing the line of curiosity and self-torment. I hadn’t crossed the line, not yet. But it was growing increasingly hard to resist the urge to have one little peek.

  I typed his name.

  PHOENIX WILDER

  … and quickly deleted it.

  Then I typed another name.

  ZANE WASHINGTON

  Biting my bottom lip, my finger hovered over the search icon. If I did this, if I opened that door, there would be no going back.

  It’s just once, I tried to tell myself. But it wouldn’t be once. I didn’t need my therapist to tell me that. It would be twice a week. Once a day. Every time I picked up my cell phone. Until it became part of my routine.

  My new obsession.

  A dangerous addiction.

  Delete.

  Delete.

  Delete.

  I clutched my cell phone and inhaled a ragged breath.

  It was only a window into their lives, their world. It wasn’t a door. I couldn’t walk through it.

  “Harleigh, you want a slushie?”

  I glanced up at Miles and frowned. “You’re done already?” It only felt like I’d sat down five minutes ago.

  “Yeah, we’ve been playing for like twenty minutes. You were busy on your phone.”

  Twenty minutes?

  My stomach dipped.

  “Sorry, it was a really interesting… article.”

  “And here I thought you were reading one of those dirty romance books Celeste thinks I don’t know she loves so much.” A smirk traced his mouth.

  “I-I do not read those types of books.” Celeste’s cheeks flamed but Miles only shrugged.

  “Hey, whatever floats your boat. You know, I caught my gran reading Fifty Shades of Grey once. That was… interesting.”

  “Oh my God,” Celeste breathed, fighting a grin. “That is… wow.”

  “Anyway, slushies.” He clicked his fingers. “Harleigh?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Water? Soda? They do a mean green tea if that’s more your thing.”

  “I guess I could go for a bottle of water. Thanks.”

  “Celeste, the usual?”

  “Of course,” she murmured, unable to look him in the eye. He disappeared and Celeste joined me on the couch.

  “You know, I didn’t have you down as a smut reader.” She scowled at me, and laughter bubbled in my chest. “Relax, I’m joking. People should read whatever they like.”

  “Hmm. What article were you reading?” One of her brows lifted.

  “Touché.”

  “Sorry, if we ambushed you into coming here.”

  “It’s fine. I think I’ve gotten too used to being at the house.”

  “You’re safe with us, Harleigh. I hope you know that.”

  “I do. Where are the restrooms?” I asked, needing to escape the tension swirling around us.

  “Back through the main room and down the entrance hall where we came in. They’re on the left. I can show you?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m sure I can handle it.”

  I excused myself and backtracked through the building, passing Miles on the way. Finding the women’s restroom was easy enough, but the second I stepped back out into the hall, that tingling sensation trickled through me again.

  I quickly scanned the hall, but it was empty. Some inner sense pulled me toward the window wall that fronted the building. It overlooked the small parking lot and the road beyond that. Celeste’s Range Rover was parked in between two cars probably belonging to the other people bowling.

  But it wasn’t their car that caught my attention. Because there, hidden under an overhanging tree was a car that was all too familiar.

  Before I could think about the consequences, I rushed over to the door and ripped it open, storming outside. It was his car.

  He was here.