Lies We Tell (Thistle Cove 3)

I shove the matchbook into my pocket and walk back to my room. There, I put on my boots and grab my jacket. In my dresser, under my socks, I open a small wooden box. Inside is an ID card and a burner phone I bought at the gas station. There’s no tracking device on it. I shove my iPhone under my pillow. If anyone checks I’ll be here all night, safe and sound.

In the kitchen I reach for my motorcycle keys, but pause. It’s late and cold. If Kenley’s determined to do whatever the hell she’s doing, I need to make sure she’s safe. I grab the keys to my dad’s SUV s and head out the door—determined to reach her before she does something stupid.

I park my car a block away and stand at the end of the driveway. The lights are off downstairs—her parents go to bed early. Her car is still here so I know I haven’t missed her. A few minutes later I see a figure exit the house and walk down the front porch stairs.

It’s Kenley, I’d know her shape and walk anywhere, but I squint, trying to figure out what’s different.

Her hair.

Not her hair—a wig. The black wig she wore in my rec room that night when she made the SugarBabies account.

She reaches the car and pushes her key into the slot.

“Going somewhere?”

She jumps straight in the air, before looking at me, eyes bugged. “Jesus, Ezra, you scared the crap out of me.”

I get a better look at her under the lamplight. Tight black jeans, clunky boots with a thick heel, a dark jacket with a flash of red underneath. A sliver of pale skin peeks between her jeans and the shirt. The black wig makes her skin look like alabaster, and deep red lipstick only accentuates it.

“I was just—” she starts. I cut her off.

“You’re going to need ID to get in that place.” I make no attempt to hide that I’m assessing her outfit.

She blinks, realizing I know what she’s up to. “I was going to figure that out when I got there.”

“Lucky for you, I have one my dad didn’t discover and toss.”

“How does that help me?”

“Babe, the bouncer won’t look twice with you in that outfit.” I jerk my head. “Come on, my car is back here.”

I walk down the road, hoping she’s going to follow me. I can’t let her go do this—whatever the hell this is—alone. Thankfully, she walks to the passenger side and gets in.

“Are you mad?” she asks.

“No, not mad, but next time tell the truth. If you want to go off and do something stupid, I’m more than happy to go with you.”

She smiles. “Really?”

“Absolutely.”

She leans over the middle of the seat and wraps her hand around my neck, pulling me to her. She kisses me, slow and sweet. “Thanks for not being a dick about it.”

“Well, save that appreciation for someone else. Like Ozzy, because he’s going to be pissed when he finds out.”

Her eyes darken with guilt. Yeah, this is something Kenley needs to understand. We’re in this together. For real together, which means no secrets and no games. I go with her while she explores whatever wild hair she’s got, but ultimately, we’re all going to have a long talk.

“You sure this is what you want to do? I can think of a few other ways we can break the rules tonight and we wouldn’t even have to leave town,” I suggest.

For a brief moment she looks tempted, but she shakes her head. “It’s something I have to do, Ez, for my own peace of mind.”

I nod, and start the car, pretty sure that whatever she’s looking for at the Dollhouse is definitely not going to give her peace of mind.

8

Kenley

I tell Ezra what I know as he drives the car out of Thistle Cove.