Kiss Me with Lies (Twin Lies Duet Book 1)

by S. M. Soto

  Light knocking on my bedroom door snaps me out of my thoughts. Slowly, I push upright into a sitting position, just as my grandpa peeks his head around the door. At seventy-two years old, my grandfather is still as handsome as ever. His charming personality and funny jokes are exactly what I need right now. Just the sight of him, dressed in his usual flannel jacket, has me on the verge of tears. His form swims before me as he slips inside my bedroom and softly shuts the door behind him.

  “Grandpa,” I choke out, finally losing the battle with my emotins.

  “Shhh, Peanut.”

  He lowers himself on the edge of my bed next to me, and I scoot closer, needing to feel his strength and the warmth of his presence. His smell hits me first. It’s a mixture of menthol for his arthritis and the pomade he still uses in the sparse hair on his head. Taking my hand in his, my grandpa squeezes, and I stare down at his bony, weathered hands, letting the tears carve hot trails down my cheeks.

  “They don’t believe me. I don’t know what’s happening, but no one believes me.”

  “They’re in pain, Mackenzie. Just like you are. We all deal with pain differently.”

  My bottom lip quivers wildly. “He yelled at me for being in her room. I just … I needed to feel close to her, because … b-because I can’t believe this is true. I keep hoping I’ll wake up, and it’ll be over. I keep hoping I’ll open my eyes, and she’ll be there in her room.”

  My grandpa sighs heavily, which prompts me to look up at him. I didn’t realize it, at first, but I can see he’s been crying. I can only imagine what a wreck my grandmother is.

  “Well, your father always was an idiot,” he grumbles, referring to the fact that he never truly approved of my father for his daughter. “But this is real. This is a tragedy we’ll all have to deal with for the rest of our lives, Mackenzie. It’s not going away.”

  I look down, causing the tears to plop onto my jeans. “I know,” I whisper in a wobbly voice. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her.”

  “Not many people do.” He pauses thoughtfully. “How about we give your mom and dad a break, and you stay with Gram and me for a while? Until we can get this all cleared up.”

  I nod, pushing to my feet at the same time he does. I start reaching for my bags but pause with my grip around the handle of my suitcase.

  “You believe me, right, Jelly?”

  “Peanut,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “I’ll always believe you. Always.”

  I follow my grandpa down the stairs, my luggage thudding down each step. There are whispers. I can already imagine what my mother is speaking to her mom, my grandma, about.

  I don’t know what we’re supposed to do from here. Where we’re supposed to go. All I know is I’m angry. So angry with everyone.

  My parents for not believing me.

  Madison for going to the rock when it was supposed to me.

  Those bastards for taking away my sister, for ruining my entire life, and for stealing another life far too soon.

  Instead of saying goodbye to my mom and dad, I roll my suitcases outside and wait by the Subaru. Maybe time away from each other is what we need. I know it can’t be easy for them to look at me. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without seeing the lesser version of Madison.

  My grandparents don’t live far from us, so the drive to their place doesn’t take long. In fact, it’s only about a fifteen-minute ride. As we pull onto the main street, leading to their house, I perk up, wiping the silent tears streaming down my face.

  I don’t know how it slipped my mind, but it did. When we turn, driving down their street, my heart bangs against my chest. My eyes remain glued outside my window, looking for the two-story home. It’s only across the street and four houses down from my grandparents, but it’s there.

  Unlike the rest of the royalty here, Marcus Whitehorn doesn’t live in a house that resembles a goddamn mansion. Instead, he resides here, with the rest of the normal population of Ferndale. His father, Mr. Whitehorn, one of the founding fathers, is a jerk from what I hear. He left Marcus’s mother years ago for his assistant, who is twenty years his junior. I guess during the divorce, Marcus decided to stay with his mother, instead of with his father in the big mansion on the other side of the hill.

  Not that I blame him. If my stepmother was only a few years older than me, I’d want out, too.

  My eyes narrow as we slowly pass in front of his two-story home, looking for any evidence that anyone is there. The lights are off, and no cars are in the driveway. Rage barrels into me, surging through my tense body as I replay the events of yesterday morning. The way they so callously pushed me away when I demanded the truth. The way they belittled me.

  The house disappears from my view out the window as we pull into my grandparents’ driveway, but I’m quick to get out and stare. My lips thin into a grim line, and I grind my teeth together. The pain and anger build, simmering just at the surface. The only thing that brings me back is the soft, sad voice.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s get inside.”

  I follow my grandma in, never once letting the Whitehorn residence out of sight.

  My stomach growls, but every time I get up to eat, I lose my appetite. It’s not right. I don’t deserve a decent meal.

  Why should I get to eat when my sister no longer can?

  I’ve kept mostly to myself for the rest of the evening. My grandparents tried to get me to eat, but just the thought of food made me sick to my stomach. It’s nighttime now. The moon gleams in through the window of the guest room, casting dark, gloomy shadows across the walls and floor. I’ve been in bed crying for what feels like the entire day. I don’t think I have any more tears left to cry, but then I surprise myself. All it really takes is one flashback with Madison to turn me into a blubbering mess.

  As I blankly stare out the window, I notice something strange across the street. I rapidly blink, clearing away the fog of film over my eyes, and impetuously jump to my feet, running to the windowsill. Marcus’s Jeep pulls into the driveway, and he gets out. Completely alone.

  My hands curl around the ledge. I don’t know what makes me do it, but before I can think better of it, I rip open one of my suitcases to yank out a sweater and then slip on a pair of my tennis shoes. I don’t bother going through the front door. It’s not that I’m sneaking out or hiding from my grandparents, but after everything that has happened, I don’t want to worry them.

  I unlatch the lock in the center of the windowsill and lift. With no screen as a barrier, it’s easy to climb out and hop down onto the damp grass. The air is chilly. It creeps in through the material of my sweater, settling into my bones.

  I march across the street with no plan in mind. I don’t even know why I’m going there. I just need to confront someone. I need him to apologize. I need someone to confess, so my sister can get justice.

  I stomp up the steps, my ratty Converse almost slipping with how worn the bottoms are. I raise my fist, about to bang on the front door, when a voice to my right has me whirling around and a startled yelp flying from my lips. There, with a blunt hanging from his lips, is Marcus Whitehorn. He’s dressed in the same clothes as yesterday morning, only now, he’s wearing a sweatshirt to ward off the chill.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growls between puffs.

  It takes me a second to catch my breath and find that anger and bravado again.

  I raise a threatening finger at him, closing the distance between us. “You guys lied. You fucking lied to the police, and I want to know why. Why did you guys do it?”

  Marcus blows out a plume of smoke, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about my sister!” I snap. “I’m talking about the girl you all murdered in the woods at the kissing rock. I’m talking about the lie—”

  My words are briskly cut off when Marcus’s hand wraps around my throat, effectively rendering me speechless. My eyes go wide, and my mouth dr
ops open as I try to suck in a breath, but his grip is so tight, so constricting, he’s bruising my larynx, making it impossible to pull in a single breath.

  “Shut your fucking mouth, you stupid bitch.”

  Marcus backs me up into the side of his house, getting into my face, the blunt still dangling from his lips. “I’m only going to say this one last fucking time before you really start to piss me off. Leave us the fuck alone. If I see your face one more goddamn time, it’ll be the last. I promise you.” Fear snakes its way through my veins, seizing my chest. “No one knows what happened to your sister, so I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut. Understand me?”

  His porch light mixed with the light from the moon cast eerie shadows across his face, making him look more like the devil rather than a teen who’s off to college. I don’t know how I missed it before.

  Dread sends a chill down my spine at his thinly veiled threat. It only makes my suspicions where the guys are concerned grow. His grip around my neck tightens, and I start to claw at his hands, trying to beat at his body to let me go, so I can breathe. For a second, as I stare into his eyes, I don’t think he will. I think he’s going to squeeze tighter, but his grip loosens, and he tosses me away from him.

  I stumble on my feet, the legs of my jeans skidding along his driveway as I place a shaky hand to my neck, trying to rub the pain and soreness away.

  When I look back up, he’s already heading back inside his house, the blunt still in his hand.

  Sweat clings to my skin when I wake up. The dream wasn’t so much a nightmare, but a replayed memory of a past I can’t seem to escape. I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand, taking note of the time. It’s after midnight, which probably means the resort has sparse employees milling around.

  I rush around the suite, quick to wash my face and brush my teeth, then dress in whatever clothes I find lying around.

  With my phone and room key tucked in my back pocket, I lower the Yankees baseball cap on my head. I considered bringing a pair of sunglasses to help shield my face, but everything considering, I felt like it was overkill.

  I take the stairs instead of the elevator, and just as I suspected, there’s a guide, a map of sorts, showing the exits and the wheretos of the resort. With the tip of my index finger, I follow the main points. On the lower level, there’s the lobby, the gym, The Den, The Velvet Lounge and Bar, and then there’s a spa located in the left wing that leads out to just one of the pools on the property—there are six in total, and that’s not even including Baz’s private area on the penthouse floor. The resort is on a sprawling three hundred acres, which I’d imagine cost a fortune here.

  I discover pretty easily that almost all of the employees on the first floor, near check-in, have the power to program my resort key card to give me access to certain places and floors in the resort. What with Kat’s father booking my room for me, I’d imagine I have access to the spa and other amenities free of charge—all on his tab.

  Now, all I need to do is find a night manager vulnerable to my advances. I don’t plan on seducing him. I’m not that hard up to find out if Baz is hiding anything here, but I have other methods in mind.

  By the time I’m done filing down the stairs and back into the lobby, the lights are dimmed, but the Velvet Lounge and Bar is very much awake and lively. I pause near the edge at the pillar outside of the restaurant and glance around, trying to find someone who’s working, and when I do, I grin.

  Pulling the hat off my head, I rake my fingers through my hair, straightening and flattening the strands as I go. I plaster a false smile on my face as I covertly race after one of the employees, who’s crossing the obby. I follow him, waiting until we’re down the empty hallway to get his attention.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  At the sound of my voice, the man turns, a crease forming between his bushy brows as he regards me. I swallow the lump in my throat, trying not to force the smile too much. The last thing I want to do is look like a psycho.

  “Hi, I have a quick question. As a gift, my friend got me a room here, so I didn’t have much time to do research, but for security purposes, how often would you say security roams the area?”

  The frown deepens. “I’m sorry, ma’am, what?”

  My smile slips for a fraction of a second. “I just mean, my ex-husband … he’s, well, let’s just say I needed this vacation, and I just want to feel … safe while I’m here.”

  He glances over his shoulder, the frown lines on his face slowly disappearing as he processes my words. “Oh, right. Well, the resort is as secure as they come. There are multiple security hubs. The owner has security patrolling the grounds at all times. You have nothing to worry about. Is there a specific man or a name you’d like us to look out for?”

  I freeze. “Uh, no. Well, not yet at least. These security hubs, is there one on each floor?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I glance over my shoulder and step closer to him, licking my suddenly dry lips. “Look, I know this is going to sound insane, and I realize you can get into a lot of trouble for this, but would it be possible to take me to one of them? Just so I can see what they see and put my mind at ease?” I rush to add.

  The frown is back on his face in full force. “I couldn’t. I would lose my job.”

  “I know, and I hate to put you in this position,” I whisper anxiously, taking another step closer. “But I’m afraid. I’m so scared he’ll find me.”

  “Ma’am, just give us a name, so we can—”

  “That won’t do!” I snap, and he jerks back at my tone. My eyes slam shut, and I silently count to five to regain my composure. “Just please, I’ll do anything. I can even pay you. Here,” I say. Digging into my back pocket, I pull out three hundred-dollar bills that I hate to part with so soon into my investigation. I specifically told myself I would only use money in case of emergencies. I guess, in a way, this would be considered an emergency. “Please. I can’t do this without your help.”

  He groans, his pudgy stomach jolting with movement. He steps into me, his face turning fierce. He looks over his shoulder.

  “You cannot tell anyone about this. I’ll give you access on your key card, but you can’t tell anyone where you got it if you do get caught. Understand?”

  “Absolutely. One hundred percent. You can count on me.”

  To kill time, I get a drink at the bar in the Velvet Lounge, scoping out the crowd for anyone else I can use to get information from. Anything is helpful at this point. How often does their boss come in here? How often is he at the resort? His friends, is he ever seen with them here?

  What are they hiding?

  The Velvet Lounge looks exactly as it sounds. Its lighting is dimmed, and everything is velvet. It’s all so sleek and sexy. It makes me wonder why Baz chose to have dinner with me in The Den, rather than inside here.

  My phone vibrates on the bar top. When I glance at the screen and the unknown number flashes, I already know who it is. I gave Brian, the beer-bellied resort employee, my number, so he could let me know when my card was ready. I finish off my liquid courage and slide off the sleek barstool to meet him.

  I’m just walking out when deep laughter has me pausing in my tracks. That tone … I know that tone. Tremors roll down my spine, and I narrow my gaze, swinging my head around to find the source. When I do, I damn near dive to the side, trying to hide in plain sight when I spot Baz, an older man, and a beautiful woman walking out of The Den.

  What the hell are they doing up so late at night?

  My heart races in my chest, raising my blood pressure. I try to get my erratic breathing under control while the sound of my pulse thunders in my ears. I watch them walk away, across the lobby, toward the elevators. My phone vibrates in my hand again, probably Brian wondering where I am.

  Without warning, Baz pauses. He stops walking, and I suck in a sharp gasp, my lungs no longer moving air in and out. I’m sure he’s going to turn around and see me. He likely senses my presence, but inst
ead, he stands there for a solid beat until he’s moving again. Once they disappear toward the elevators, I blow out a relieved gust of breath, and when I’m sure my legs are capable of working again, I hurry toward the stairs.

  With a subtle glance over my shoulder, I find Brian pacing anxiously in the stairwell, and it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes.

  “You have to promise you won’t say anything. I can’t lose this job,” he pleads, his grip tightening on the card as he holds it out to me.

  “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me, and I promise, you can count on me.”

  He nods, the expression on his face still unsure. “The security comes and goes in intervals. Since it’s night watch, there’s less staff around. If you go now, he should be on his break. The other guard will be at the security hub in the north wing. It’s right across from the employee lounge.”

  I replay the info in my head over and over. I just need to get in and see how often they patrol the penthouse floor. As long as I can find a blind spot, I can find a way to slip into Baz’s office. Pulling my cap low on my head again, I move throughout the resort. Once I reach the security hub, I glance both ways to make sure the coast is clear, then hurry inside and lock the door behind me.

  When I first passed the room, I thought it was an electrical room or supply closet. That’s just how small and unsuspecting it is.

  The multiple screens have a different view of the resort on each one. Most of it is monitored by the wings of the resort and floors. Grabbing one of the rolling leather chairs, I perch on the edge, my gaze flitting from monitor to monitor as I try to find what I’m looking for. There are a handful of buttons and knobs, and I reach out, my hand hovering as I wonder if this is a good idea.

  “It is. What else are you going to do?” I hear Madison urge.

  Slowly, I twist the knob, and the images on the screen change, moving from one end of the hall to the next, exit to exit, elevator bank to elevator bank. I almost shout in joy and fist pump when I continue turning and finally land on the penthouse level. It’s deserted right now. No movement at all.