Lie to Me

by McAdams, Molly

  “It’s because I can’t do this with you,” I said simply.

  “With me,” she whispered, the words a defeated laugh.

  I blew out a slow breath and watched her walk down the steps. When she was halfway across the pathway, I called out, “I am sorry.”

  She turned, and the tears slipping down her cheeks tore at me. “Me too.”

  I sank to the top step just as Rowe pulled up to the house, prompting Hannah to hurry to her car.

  By the time he was stepping out of his car, she was pulling away.

  He watched the car go, pointing at it in question.

  “She was waiting for me when I got here,” I explained.

  “This is what I get for going to the gym,” he said as he stopped before the first step. “I miss everything.” At my frustrated laugh, he grunted in understanding. “Guess it didn’t go well.”

  I sent him a look before mumbling, “Feel like an asshole for hurting her.”

  “Maybe because you’re making a mistake?”

  “I’m not. If I would’ve known how she felt, I wouldn’t have slept with her. I should’ve never slept with her at all.”

  A beat passed as he grabbed the coffee from me before asking, “Because of Emma?”

  My head dipped slowly as I thought about that girl before admitting, “Ran into her at the coffee shop . . . there was something different about her. I kept thinking I knew why—thinking I was figuring her out. Then she says Lala told her something that she wanted explained.” My attention had drifted, but I fixed it on Rowe. “Lala told Emma that I saved her and countless others’. Told her I used to be a SEAL.”

  Rowe shrugged when I didn’t continue. “And?”

  “And she was different today,” I said, irritation and disappointment weaving through me. “If she turns into a Courtney? Or, fuck, even into a Hannah, who said shit about it the other night after we slept together? Like she knew we’d be good together because of it.” I glanced away again.

  “Look, I’m not Butler, I only know what you’ve told me about her. So, do you really think Emma’s the kind of person to turn into one of those girls?”

  “No, but all the women here have been the same. They find out and think hero and start romanticizing it and me, and I don’t fucking want that. Emma’s complicated and argumentative and hesitant. If all that changes now . . .”

  My phone vibrated in my pocket again . . . and then again and again.

  My brow furrowed as I hurried to grab my phone, but as soon as I saw the lock screen lit up with messages, my face fell and a mixture of frustration and guilt pulsed through me.

  Kira: Please come home.

  Kennedy: You’re an asshole.

  Kennedy: You’re being selfish.

  Kennedy: GO HOME.

  I tossed my phone onto the step and raked a hand through my hair. “Fucking awesome day.”

  First thing Saturday, I’d gone shopping for the store. Looking for décor that would match the wall color and new flooring Donna and I had picked out the day before. After hours of finding more than I could’ve hoped for, I’d dropped it all off only to go school shopping with Lala and Nora.

  Nora hadn’t said a word to me.

  Then again, she hadn’t said anything to me for a couple days.

  By the time we made it back to the house, I was exhausted from shopping and enduring Nora’s silent distrust and working late into the night every night on everything that was needed for the store.

  I bit back a groan as I watched Nora dash up the stairs, then followed Lala into the kitchen. “Lala, I think I’m gonna lay down for a little bit.”

  “If you’re hungry now, you’re going to wake up wishing you’d eaten. Why don’t you put on somethin’ comfy, and I’ll whip us up a quick lunch?”

  I sighed as I thought about the bed waiting for me upstairs, then glanced at what I was wearing. “I’m fine in what I’m wearing.”

  She gave me a look and pointed at my feet. “For the love of all that is holy, go take off those heels. They’re making me tired.”

  My eyes rolled as I pushed from the counter, but a wry smile tugged at my mouth as I forced my steps to be extra hard and the clicking of my stilettos to be extra loud as I headed for the stairs.

  “I hear you, child. Lord Jesus.”

  My chest moved with a silent giggle when Lala’s scoff followed me from the kitchen but abruptly died when I set my foot on the first step of the stairs.

  I gripped the railing tight with my free hand as I climbed the steps, unable to escape the nightmares that rushed to the surface.

  They were always there, ready to torment me every time I set foot on this staircase.

  Harsh, unforgiving words.

  My screams.

  Sickening thuds.

  Pure horror.

  I blinked quickly, forcing the flashes away when I passed the last step and hurried down the hall to my room.

  I slipped off my shoes and changed into yoga pants and an old shirt since I was up there and tried not to look longingly at my bed even as I kept inching closer and closer to it. Just as I was deciding to skip lunch, the front door opened and shut, and Lala started talking away.

  A flash of heat raked across my skin when the answering voice floated up to me.

  Deep. Commanding. Unrecognizable.

  At least, it should have been. Their words were too muffled to make out, but I knew in the tenor of that voice—in the way my body immediately reacted—who was downstairs.

  I turned and stared at my cracked-open door as Nora’s thunderous steps sounded just before her excited yell, confirming Reed was there. I needed to shut it and stay in the room. Tell Lala later that I’d fallen asleep instead. But my feet were already taking me in the direction of the door in hopes that he’d speak again.

  My need to push him away was just as powerful and dangerous as my craving for him, and I couldn’t give in to the latter.

  My body was buzzing and warring with my mind because all I wanted was to see him standing in that kitchen again. See those eyes that followed my every move. See that slight twitch of his lips, like he knew exactly how crazy he made me.

  Yet, at the same time, there were risks that went along with letting a man like Reed Ryan into my life.

  Before I realized that I had made a decision, I was slipping out of my room.

  You’re an idiot.

  You’re an idiot.

  You’re such an idiot.

  But by the time I made it down the stairs, the foyer and kitchen were empty.

  Disappointment dipped in my chest as I turned to head back to my room.

  Reed stepped into the house at that moment, looking more handsome and dangerous than any man had the right to, staring at me with that look that always nailed me to the floor.

  “Emma.” My name was all gravel and steel wrapped in the softest breath.

  It made those butterflies inside me take flight. Made me want to move closer and run as far as I could. Instead, I stood there, wondering if it would be so bad to never move from that spot again.

  His thick neck moved with a forced swallow before he ground out a low, “Lala said you weren’t here.”

  My eyebrows lifted in question. “I was just upstairs. She sent me up there.”

  A moment passed before Reed’s chest pitched with a muted laugh. “Of course she did.” He rubbed his hand across his jaw before gesturing behind him. “She said the water heater stopped working, wanted me to check on it. When I got here, she was getting ready to leave.”

  Suspicion unfurled in my stomach. I knew what she was doing, and from Reed’s expression and tone, he did too. “Did she say where she was going?”

  “She and Nora had a lunch thing.”

  I let out a slow sigh. “I have a feeling you wasted a trip.”

  He quickly looked me over before forcing his gaze away. The muscles in his jaw strained when he said, “I should check it since I’m here. These houses are old—things break or need repairi
ng a lot.”

  I blinked quickly, thrown off by the bite in his tone and the coldness pouring from him that clashed with the heated, charged tension that was always present whenever he was near.

  When he’d abruptly left the coffee shop the day before, I’d thought I crossed a line in asking questions about his past. I hadn’t thought twice about it since I wasn’t exactly someone to volunteer information about pasts.

  But in just a few sentences, I was rethinking the entire encounter.

  I’d hurt Reed before, maybe even offended him, but I’d never done this.

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “Yeah, okay.”

  He started to say something before deciding against it and storming through the house.

  The breath that ripped from my chest once he was gone could have shattered walls.

  My body was trembling, and I felt weak and exhausted as if I were experiencing the worst kind of crash. I hadn’t realized how tensely I’d been holding myself until he was gone.

  Congratulations, Emma. You’ve managed to force Reed away without even trying.

  The slightest bit of relief filled me and was nearly overpowered by guilt and a soul-deep sadness.

  But I couldn’t let myself dwell on the latter.

  If I did, I would do something stupid, like ask him to forgive me. If I did, I would do something I couldn’t take back, like try telling him the truth.

  I went in search of food but had only scanned the contents of the fridge by the time Reed came back.

  “How’d it go?” I asked as I stared blindly into the fridge.

  “Porch swing all over again.”

  A distracted sound rumbled in my chest, but I no longer had the ability to speak when he came to stand beside me. Close enough that I could smell the subtle scent of his cologne. Close enough that our shoulders brushed when he leaned forward to shut the refrigerator door.

  “For someone who has a lot of opinions about me and demands to know about me, I don’t know a lot about you,” he said, voice all a rumbled breath. “Tell me something about you.”

  “Trust me,” I said on a strained laugh, “that’s a rabbit hole you don’t want to fall down.”

  “You have to know that isn’t true.”

  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.

  You enter my thoughts unbidden. I’ve thought and fantasized about you so much that I struggle to remember why you’re a bad idea.

  Then I see you . . . and I’m torn between wanting you and wanting to keep you at a distance. Because wanting you terrifies me.

  This roller coaster of emotions is making me feel like I’m going insane.

  And I was clearly wrong in thinking I’d succeeded in pushing you away.

  My eyelids fluttered shut. I couldn’t do this. His closeness, his words . . . they were innocent. But paired with the gentle rasp of his tone, it was all too much.

  I needed space so I could breathe.

  I somehow moved away from him, away from his intoxicating draw, toward the kitchen table. Once there, I finally risked a glance at him. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

  His colorful arms were folded across his muscled chest. Eyes narrowed on me like he was trying to figure me out.

  I wished he wouldn’t.

  “I’ve heard talk from guys at the department,” he finally said. “After this Thursday, everyone’s been going on about Lala’s granddaughter who won’t talk to anyone. Who won’t look at anyone.”

  Surprise pulsed through me.

  Before I could think too much on the fact that I was a topic of conversation between police officers, why I might be, and all the reasons why I didn’t want to be, he continued.

  “I’ve thought about that conversation on my porch . . . about the one here. I’ve heard what you said and seen your expression over and over again. I thought I would be the only one to notice your reactions because, well . . .” A defeated laugh broke from his chest. He looked at me helplessly for a moment before confusion and desperation stole across his face. “What is it about police officers, Emma? What happened to you?”

  “You’d think cops would have something better to do than talk about me.” I tried to put strength behind my words, but they came out soft and breathless.

  It was the only response he would get from me.

  I didn’t owe him anything.

  “Not when your grandma and sister mean something to all of us. Not when you came into town and started up like you were better than everyone else.”

  “Better than—I never said I was. I’ve never thought I was.”

  “But it’s what everyone else thinks, and this town talks.”

  “Then let them talk.” I forced a breath from my too-tight lungs. “I’m here for me, not the town. I don’t owe them anything, and I sure as hell don’t owe you a goddamn thing.”

  “Emma.”

  The last thing I saw as I stormed out of the kitchen was Reed’s falling expression.

  I’d made it up the third step when he grabbed my hand. “Emma, wait.”

  Ice shot through my veins.

  I gripped the railing as if my entire life depended on me holding onto it. Because at that moment, it did . . .

  “Momma!”

  Fear and denial and body-numbing grief.

  I felt faint.

  My knees went weak and were seconds from giving out.

  My lips were moving rapidly, but no sound was coming out.

  “. . . sorry, just don’t—just talk to me,” Reed said, his voice sounding muffled and warped.

  A second.

  It had been a second since he grabbed me, but it felt like minutes in that nightmare.

  Let go, let go, let go, I continued mouthing, unable to put any air behind the words.

  I finally twisted to look at him, my free hand still tight on the railing, my body swaying as the room spun around me.

  Reed’s face shifted to worry and then fear in an instant. “Sit down. You need to sit down.”

  “Let go of me.”

  It was barely audible, but Reed shook his head. “Let me help you—”

  “Let go!” I shouted.

  His hand was gone immediately.

  The next, I was sitting on the steps, my head resting against the railing, my fingers tightening on the banister.

  A banana and a glass of water were set next to me so suddenly, it surprised me.

  I hadn’t realized Reed had ever left.

  Worry and confusion covered his face when I looked up at him. His hands were lifted slightly as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

  “Emma, I’m sorry. For what I said, for touching you, for . . . fuck, I don’t know.” His eyes flashed to mine before falling. “Drink that. Please.”

  “I’m fine.” When his chest pitched with a disbelieving huff, I said, “I am. I just . . . I can’t be—” My head moved in quick jerks.

  I didn’t want to give this man any part of my life, but the words were sitting on the tip of my tongue, begging to fall.

  “I shouldn’t have touched you,” he murmured, understanding and regret weaving through his words.

  I should have left it at that. Let him think that was it.

  But he should have known by now that a touch from him wasn’t going to send me spiraling down. It was going to set me on fire.

  “Don’t grab me on stairs,” I whispered. “Don’t touch me when I’m on them.”

  His brows lifted. His eyes darted from my face to the step I was sitting on to the banister I still had a death-grip on.

  After a moment, his head slanted in a nod. “All right. Why don’t we move away from the stairs?”

  Relief flooded me, but I kept my lips pressed firmly together so I wouldn’t thank him or say anything else that would reveal exactly how badly I’d wanted to get away from those steps.

  Once he’d grabbed the water and fruit, I followed him to one of the couches in the living room.

  He set the items on one of the e
nd tables, catching my stare as he did. “I would feel better if you finished those.”

  I glanced at the fruit and water, but my head felt heavy and my stomach uneasy.

  I wanted to lie down. I wanted to sleep.

  The moment I sat down, curled up in the corner, my body relaxed and my eyelids felt impossible to keep open.

  I reached for the water but ended up with my head resting on my arm as if it were a pillow.

  “Emma,” Reed murmured, slightly disapproving, mostly worried. “Please.”

  “I will.”

  After a few moments, he asked, “Is there a reason behind the fear?”

  His confusion and concern were so raw and palpable that I knew without a doubt Nick hadn’t told him about that night.

  That thought had relief sliding through my veins.

  I was sure if I hadn’t been seconds away from drifting off to sleep, I would wonder what exactly Nick had told him to make Reed look at me the way he had the other afternoon. But I could barely focus on his question long enough to answer.

  “Not one you’ll ever know,” I finally mumbled, voice soft and slow with my exhaustion. I tried to lift my eyebrows, but they also felt too heavy. “You’re wrong, you know.”

  Amusement danced through Reed’s tone when he asked, “About what?”

  “Me.”

  I don’t know when I’d closed my eyes, but it felt good to close them.

  Felt so good to relax deeper into the couch.

  Felt comforting to be watched over by the man in that room.

  “Never thought I was better,” I muttered lazily. “My entire life, everyone has been better than me.”

  I hurried onto Lala’s porch to escape the rain the next night, making the five steps in only two, eyes focused on the girl tucked into the large swing like she belonged there.

  Like she’d been there forever.

  Emma’s eyes flashed to mine before darting back to the tablet in her lap, a soft smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Stalker.”

  “Is that right?” My lips twitched as I fought my own smile at her responding hum. All amusement and ease. “Hate to ruin your night, but I was asked to come here,” I continued as I lowered myself to the other side of the swing, nearly touching where her feet were curled up beneath her, and considered it a small victory when she didn’t try to move away from me.