The Lying Game Complete Collection - Sara Shepard Page 0,492

that I had to be patient. Then I came out here that night, after everyone else had left her. After everyone had hurt her and lied to her and abandoned her.” His fingers curled into her shoulder as he spoke, digging painfully into her skin. “I thought for sure she’d see that I was the only one who’d been there for her all along. But all she wanted was Thayer Vega.”

I thought about the shapeless form behind the wheel of my car, bearing down on Thayer. I heard the sound of bone cracking once again.

“So you ran him over?” Emma whispered.

Ethan’s eyes flashed. “I wish I’d killed him. I’ve always hated that guy. I hated him when Sutton liked him, and I hated him when you did. He didn’t deserve to be in her life. I had to show her that.”

Tears ran down Emma’s face, leaving hot salty trails on her skin. “So you and me—it was always about Sutton. It’s just because I look like her.”

“Emma, no!” he breathed, his eyes suddenly soft. “You have to believe me.” He seemed lost for words for a moment, his shoulders knotted in agitation. Then he took a deep breath. The pressure of his hand on her shoulder disappeared. Slowly he helped her sit up, crouching by her side, but the knife still gleamed dangerously in his hand.

Emma’s eyes darted frantically around. The light filtered down through the trees, making filigree patterns over the clearing. Beyond the brush the lights of the city glittered. A boulder jutted into the middle of the trail, and beyond it the path looked steeper than ever. There was no escape. Her only hope was to keep him talking.

A jolt of recognition ran through me. I knew that boulder. This was where Garrett and I had argued. The clearing showed signs of recent disturbance—the cops who had canvassed the area for clues to my death had left footprints and broken branches in their wake—but there was no sign that anyone was nearby at this hour. A few more yards up the path, the tree line broke to reveal the ravine, opening up beyond.

Ethan took her hand in his free one, a shattered look on his face. “I never meant to fall in love with you,” he whispered. “I didn’t know there was someone out there who could make me feel this way.”

He looked so earnest, so hurt, that despite everything, a reluctant pang shot through her heart. Part of her wanted so badly to believe him—wanted to forget everything she’d just learned and go back to ignorantly, stupidly loving Ethan. If there was a way to undo what she’d learned, Emma might have done it. Because she had loved him, more than she’d ever loved anyone. And that was the most painful part.

But then she thought of everything he had done to her over the past three months. The light crashing next to her, the threatening notes, the locket tight around her neck as he strangled her. He’d made sure she felt scared and alone, that she had no one to turn to except him. He’d forced her to stay quiet, to lose her own identity, and to alienate the only family she had in this world. That wasn’t what you did to someone you loved.

She looked down at his hand in hers, her skin crawling with aversion. But she didn’t dare pull away. A vague glimmer of hope sparked at the back of her mind. Maybe if she seemed understanding—even loving—then he wouldn’t kill her. At least not yet.

“So, all those pictures of me we found in the storage unit—you took those?” she asked.

He nodded. “At first I was trying to find your mom. I knew Sutton was adopted. I still remember when she had to read her family tree report in ninth grade, how upset she got.” His gaze went distant again as he stared off into his memories. “She was so beautiful that day—she was one of those girls who looked even prettier when she cried.”

Emma suppressed a shudder. “So you started looking for her birth mom.”

“Yeah. I started investigating the Mercers and almost right away realized Becky must have been their daughter. I hacked the hospital records—and that was when I realized there were two of you.”

“Hospital records are really hard to get,” Emma said. She tried to sound impressed, maybe even a little admiring, but inside was nothing but cold, metallic terror.

He warmed to her tone easily, though—as if he fed on