All the Little Lies (English Prep 1)

on her words. “I don’t know. Pete is bleeding and won’t wake up.” I heard some shuffling and then, “Wake up! Please wake up!”

I dropped the phone, and my chest started heaving up and down. I couldn’t hear a word being said by Ollie or my father. The only thing I could hear was the quick pace of my heart beating wildly in my chest. I watched as Ollie picked up the phone and began talking, his green eyes widening as he locked onto me. My eyes squeezed tightly together.

There is no fucking way someone was taking Hayley from me. My Hayley. Every possible scenario of someone putting their hands on her filtered through my mind, much like they had every night since she got attacked at the football game, and I suddenly felt out of control. Hayley was strong. One of the strongest, most obstinate people I knew, but I also knew that, deep down, she was scared. There was still a part of her that was the old Hayley—the bright, happy, naive girl that had her head in the clouds. She formed a thick skin over the last few years, but no one was invincible.

I cursed myself for not taking more precautions. She convinced me that she was fine at Pete and Jill’s house for the few hours that I had football practice, and she did her homework every night. She said, “You can’t be with me every single second of every day, Christian.” Fuck football. Fuck school. I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight.

“Son!” My head jerked as a hard hand gripped tightly onto my jaw. I clenched my teeth, finally taking breath, and stared at my father’s troubled face. “You need to take a breath.”

“I...I can’t.” The words were forced; my lungs were constricted. The feeling was familiar. Flashes of my mom’s lifeless body flew through my head as I tried to hold on for dear life. No. Not now. My father's hands wrapped around my head. “You can. Just look at me and breathe. We will figure this out. She’s going to be fine.”

She’s going to be fine. Hayley.

I forced another breath as I continued looking at the worry lines on my father’s forehead. Another puff of air came out, and I slowly felt my chest loosening with oxygen.

“Ollie, call Jim and tell him it’s an emergency. Tell him to get his ass over here and to call Scott on the way.”

“Who’s Scott?” Ollie asked, searching for Jim’s name.

“He’s on the force. Call him. Now.” I’d never heard my father’s voice so calm but demanding at the same time. Ollie quickly walked away after glancing at me and put the phone up to his ear.

“Are you with me now? I need you to pull yourself together so we can figure this out. You hear me?” My jaw ached from both the pressure of clenching my teeth and my father’s hand squeezing my jaw.

“I’m…” The words were lodged in my throat. “I…I’m not going to lose her like we lost Mom. I won’t.”

The situations were vastly different. My mother had a choice when it came to leaving me. Us. She could have gotten help. She could have grasped onto her love for us more than her love for her addiction, but she didn’t, and that was a regret I was sure she’d have if she were here. But Hayley didn’t have a choice in this matter. She wasn’t willingly leaving me. The choice wasn’t hers. It was her father’s. Hayley was the casualty in her parents’ choices, and I was going down right with her.

“You won’t lose her. Do you want to know why?” My father’s hands dropped from my face as he took a step back and rounded the island. “You won’t lose her because you’re fighting for her. And when a Powell man fights for someone he loves, he always wins.” My father started to roll up his sleeves as if he were ready to fight someone. “I fought for your mother once, and I won. The problem was, I stopped fighting.”

He bent his head, and I was unable to form words. The whites of his knuckles matched his dress shirt as he squeezed the edge of the kitchen island. His head slowly came back up, and he pinned me with a lethal Powell stare. “Don’t you ever stop fighting for the person you love, Christian. Do you hear me?”

I swallowed back a rough lump in my throat. “I hear you.”

“Then get your shit together so we can get her back.”

I dipped my chin, and we walked through the kitchen together, ready to do whatever it took to get my girl back.

Chapter Forty-Three

Hayley

I had always imagined that an Escalade would feel like riding in a luxurious limo of sorts. It was big and sleek—fancy, for lack of a better word. But each time we’d go over a bump, I’d bang my head off the side of the door.

My hand itched to try the shiny handle on the right, but even if my captors were dumb enough to leave the door unlocked, we were going so fast I was likely to die or have serious injuries if I jumped. I kept glancing at the man beside me, the one I felt that I could trust—although, I wasn’t sure to what extent. I replayed his words in my head, ‘Keep him talking.’ I didn’t really have time to dissect the why in this situation, so I just went with it. I had nothing else to lose.

We rounded a curve, heading for the highway, and my stomach twisted with each jerk of the vehicle. I shifted in my school skirt, glancing at the two men up front and then to the man beside me. His tattooed head stayed straight, but his eyes moved to the corner of his eye.

I turned my head to the front and tried my best to keep my voice steady. “So, what exactly did my father do to land me in this lovely seat?”

The burly and most frightening of the men sliced his eyes to mine in the rearview mirror. He grunted and then turned his gaze back to the road. Okay, well, that didn’t work. I decided to keep probing. “So, what? You’re just gonna kidnap me but not tell me why? How is that fair? Is it the settlement? My trust fund, right?”

Still no answer. “That is what you’re doing, right? Kidnapping me? Wait, is it called kidnapping if I’m not really a kid anymore?”

There was a small twitch on the tattooed man’s mouth and a barely noticeable nod of his head. I took that as a confirmation that I was doing something right.

“Seriously, guys. What gives? Were you the ones who killed him?” I chuckled, glancing out the window at the passing trees for a second. “I bet it was you, huh, big man?”

The driver sliced his eyes to mine again, and I met his cold stare. “Was it you? Do you remember me cowering on the steps in my house? Scared out of my mind?”