Beautiful Lies (Dark Secret Society 2)

And then, of course, there was Reba. Sweet, sweet Reba.

Always so like our mama.

Too much alike, it turned out.

Cause the same kidney failure that got our mama came for Reba.

It was when we got the news that Daddy left. In his note, he said he just wasn’t strong enough to do it again—to watch another girl he loved go through it all.

I burned that fucking note before Reba saw it.

She was not gonna die like Mama.

Mama’d been a smoker all her life, had Type 2 Diabetes, and a host of other conditions and how fucking dare Dad even suggest Reba would die too?

But Reba did have to start dialysis far too young.

The truth was, she needed a new kidney and she needed it bad.

And fuck my daddy, and fuck the genes he gave me, because I wasn’t a match to give my baby sister what she needed. Tanya wasn’t either—maybe the youngest, LeAnn, was, but we hadn’t even gotten her tested, she was too young and didn’t need the burden of knowing.

The state of Georgia had one of the longest wait-times in the nation for a new kidney. Of course it did and, of course, we had to live here. That was our luck.

But time was running out for Reba.

So, when I got a crazy invitation from a crazy man in full livery and realized it was all real and like a fairy godmother, they could grant any wish I asked for, even expediting my baby sister right to the front of the line for a new kidney?

Yes, you bet your ass I said sign me up. I’d do anything—anything—to make that happen.

And here I was.

God, I needed to scrub this dirt off me. I needed to scrub it all off me. I shook my head, exhausted. That old show-tune rang through my head: I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair.

Mama used to love old movies, and she made me sit through South Pacific more than once. I smiled and then winced from my sore muscles.

Okay, time for a shower.

But right as I was about to shuck Sully’s jacket off of me and head for the bathroom, there was a knock at the door.

For a second, my heart leapt, thinking it was Sully, come to ask for forgiveness for being such an ass, but then I frowned. Sully wouldn’t knock.

I went to the door. “Who is it?”

“Mrs. Hawthorne. Portia, dear,” her voice was urgent and hushed, “it’s important. I need to speak to you. Please let me in.”

I opened the door, hugging Sully’s suit jacket even tighter around myself. “What is it?”

Mrs. Hawthorne pushed her way in and closed the door behind her. “Where’s Sully?” she asked, looking around.

I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at her pointedly. “Did you have something to tell me or not?”

She looked flustered as her eyes came back to me. “Yes, dear. Your sister is here.”

“What?” I rushed for the door. “Which one?”

Mrs. Hawthorne hurried to stop me before I could rush through the door and leave the room.

“She said her name was Tanya. But, honey, you can’t leave without Sully.”

I glared at her. “Sully left me to go off drinking somewhere. I don’t give a— a crap about what Sullivan does or does not do right now. My sister needs me, and you will not block that door.”

One of Mrs. Hawthorne’s eyebrows lifted. “Be that as it may, you still can’t go romping through the manor in nothing but that jacket. It might disturb your sister seeing you so disheveled. Put something else on.”

Dammit, she was right. Over her shoulder, I could see myself in the full-length mirror, and I looked—

I looked demented. My hair was crazy, my face was still streaked with dirt, and yeah, I was mostly naked.

I threw off Sully’s jacket and ran for the dresser. As quickly as I could, I yanked on underclothes, leggings, socks, and a sweater. Then I ran for the bathroom and splashed water on my face, using a towel to scrub away most of the dirt.

Last, I ran a comb through my hair and tugged it up into a bun.

Then I came back to Mrs. Hawthorne. “Take me to my sister.”

20

Sully

I sat and watched the water of the pool glisten beneath the nearly full moon, trying to forget the horrors of the night. But nothing I did could get the memories of Hell out of my head. My body now shook as the shock wore off and my rage settled.

We swam tonight with blood in the water.

The Order were the sharks and there was nothing we could have done to fight them off… except leave.

Why the fuck were we still here?

Why the fuck was she?

Yes, she looked like the typical southern belle debutante gold digger I had grown up around, but my gut told me she was different. She had proven she was… wasn’t she?