All the Little Lies (English Prep 1)

My lip twitched as excitement tore through my chest. “As my best friend, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s throwing you a birthday party.”

“A party?!”

Piper shook her amber locks out. “It’s just a few of us. Relax! But he’s gone all out for it. It’s actually kinda sweet how much effort he has put into it.”

My face fell into my hands. “Now I feel even worse about earlier. He was putting together something for me, and I went off with Eric behind his back.”

Piper’s hand touched my arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I think he gets it.”

The fight with Christian was too fresh in my mind for me to put it on the back burner. I was glad I had gotten the information from my mom—although I had no idea what to do with it—but I hated how I had to go about it.

I was all jumbled up inside. I didn’t like feeling out of sorts. The unknown was lurking in the shadows, and the thought of Christian being upset with me only made them that much darker.

“Yeah,” I finally answered. “Okay, I’m gonna go get started on homework. I’ll see you in a few.” I opened the door and climbed out of her car. “Be careful on your way home.”

“Don’t worry. I check my mirror every other second. The other night is forever embedded into my brain.”

I huffed out a laugh and slammed the door, giving Piper a tiny wave.

Once I reached the porch of Pete and Jill’s, Piper sped away. I watched her taillights disappear around the parked black Escalade that was always sitting beside the curb like some type of street ornament. As soon as I stepped through the threshold of the house, the hairs on my arms stood erect. My heart dropped. I could feel my pulse in my fingertips.

Something wasn’t right.

After five years of living through hell, you started to learn the signs that pointed to evil. It was too quiet. I quickly scanned my surroundings, noting Pete wasn’t in his green La-Z-Boy in the corner. My eyes dropped to the lampshade that was turned on its side and to the remote that was several feet away on the floor, as if it were thrown.

My first thought was to retreat. I took one step back, the door still open with my arm on the handle, but when I inched my head to the street, my throat began to close.

A short, bald-headed man with tattoos decorating his scalp was leaning against the hood of the black Escalade, staring right at me. His arms were crossed over his leather jacket, and they only moved when he put a cigarette up to his lips to puff out smoke.

My heart sunk.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.

The harsh truth of my past was coming straight for me, and I stood there, acting like a deer in the headlights.

My feet inched farther inside, and I let the door slam behind me. There was no use in being quiet. They were here. They finally found their opportunity, and I was cornered.

I wanted to run and never look back, but then I would have been giving up the things in my life that made me happy—that made me want to live. And I couldn’t run forever, and who knew if I’d even make it down the road before they caught me.

This needed to end. I wasn’t sure how it would end, and I wasn’t sure if I’d make it out alive, but I had to have some form of hope.

There were two things on my side: the inside guy—the one who was undercover, according to the P.I.—and the fact that I’d put up absolutely no fight in handing over my trust fund. They could have it. I didn’t want any part of it.

I kept my heart rate as steady as I could when I dropped my backpack down onto the floor. My Converse slapped against the wood as I walked through the house, heading to the kitchen.

I halted as soon as I saw Pete sitting in the kitchen chair, his big potbelly hanging over his pants as blood trickled out of his nose. I expected his eyes to flare with distaste when they landed on me, but they didn’t. Instead, they showed something I’d have never ever expected from him: worry.

“So, you finally found me.” I stared at the two men standing behind Pete, one of their hands clamped down on his shoulder.

Their expressions stayed immobile. “We’ve been following you for years. We were instructed to wait until you turned eighteen.”

I swallowed before I snarled. “Well, Happy Birthday to me.”

I locked stares with Pete for a moment before I raised my chin and glanced back to the man holding his shoulder. “So now what? You kill my father and come for me? You want this big settlement from me that I don’t even have yet?”

The men didn’t answer me. Pete’s eyes darted around the kitchen like he was planning on doing something, but it was no use. These men had weapons; I was sure of it. Pete would end up dead, and as terribly as he had treated me, no one else deserved to die for my father’s mistakes.