Tell Me Pretty Lies - Charleigh Rose Page 0,21

afraid once I started, I wouldn’t stop.

Reaching over, I pick up my phone and check the time—ten forty-six—and notice not only that my mom has called several times, but my phone is clinging to life at one percent battery. “Oh my God,” I whisper out loud, shoving my notebook and pen into my backpack. I opt for leaving the blanket. I’ll come back for it tomorrow.

I rush for the door, ignoring the pain that tugs at my nipples from the movement, and click the padlock shut. Holding one arm across my chest, I sprint through the woods I know so well, hoping like hell my flashlight will last until I get back to my house. I don’t make it more than ten feet before that hope dies and I’m blanketed in darkness.

“Fuck,” I curse, trying in vain to turn it back on, but, of course, it doesn’t work. I take a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. “Calm down, calm down, calm down,” I chant to myself in a whisper. You’ve walked this path a thousand times. You can do this. I take a single step, and a twig snaps from somewhere behind me. I freeze, whipping around. I can’t see anything, but the darkness has made me more aware of every sound. I wait for long seconds before chalking it up to a squirrel or something, but when I start to walk again, I hear a different noise. This time, it sounds like leaves crunching, and it’s coming from somewhere in front of me, off to my left. Rustling from my right has my head snapping in that direction, wishing I wasn’t stupid enough to lose track of time without a flashlight.

Before my imagination can run wild, I take off, sprinting toward my house once more. I hear footsteps behind me, picking up speed to keep up with my pace, and that’s when the panic starts to set in. It’s not an animal. These are people. As in, more than one. I go as fast as my legs will carry me, panting with the exertion. I can hear their footsteps getting closer, and when I finally get the courage to look behind me, I don’t see anyone. I stop, surveying my surroundings, half-wondering if I’m going crazy. But when I turn back around, a dark, shadowy figure stands right in front of me.

“Boo.”

I scream, my heart plummeting into my stomach, but hands fly out, one covering my mouth, one cradling the back of my head.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Thayer? I try to force my eyes to adjust. I can’t see his face, but I know it’s him. I can tell by his voice. His scent—tobacco and pine.

He peels his palm from my mouth and pulls a flashlight from somewhere, bathing my face in bright light. I squint, bringing a hand up to shield my eyes.

“Someone’s chasing me,” I say, still out of breath, chancing a glance behind me.

“Is that so?” he asks, and I can hear the amusement in his voice. That’s when it clicks. It was him. And probably Holden, if I had to guess.

“You guys can come out now,” I yell, turning around as fear gives way to frustration and embarrassment. Three more flashlights click on, bobbing through the darkness as they run toward us, cackling like hyenas. Once they’re close enough, Thayer’s flashlight illuminates their faces, confirming my suspicions. Holden, Christian, and Baker.

“Assholes.”

I try to shove past Thayer, but he blocks my path. “What are you doing?”

“Going home,” I snap.

“No, what are you doing out here?” he clarifies, moving closer. “Were you in the barn?”

I swallow hard, not wanting him to know that I’ve been going back there. He’d find a way to ruin it for me somehow.

“No,” I lie. “I went for a walk. Couldn’t sleep.”

He smirks, the shadows from the flashlight making his face look all too sinister, and leans in even closer, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “I can help you out with that.” His breath fans my ear, and goosebumps spread down my arms. “Remember the last time you couldn’t sleep?” he taunts. “Want me to touch your pussy again? Maybe I’ll use my tongue this time.”

My cheeks burn, the tips of my ears getting hot. “Fuck off.” I barrel past him, and this time he lets me by.

“Come on, Shayne,” he yells after me. “It’ll be just like old times!”

Shayne

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Valen says, looking me up and down. “You look like shit.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I mutter, not

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