Page 1 of Loving the Liar

Prologue

Ella

Taste of Metal - Henry Morris

The bloodcurdling scream of someone being murdered is like nothing I’ve heard before.

During those long, horrifying seconds, only the sounds and smells stick with me.

The gasping of her emptying lungs. How she chokes on her blood with dire gurgling noises I will never forget.

Blood smells strong. So strong I can practically taste it in my mouth, dying along with her as crimson liquid spills from her lips. A cough and it splatters on my face.

The images don’t stay. They’re flashes of blurriness my brain already tries to erase. To protect me from.

She’s on the ground. I know she is because I am too, kneeling next to her on the forest soil.

She’s dying.

There’s mud and blood in her black hair. That I notice. And her hands come to scratch her throat, her bloody lips. She’s ripping into her skin, coughing over and over again.

She’s dead before I get myself out of the haze.

I can already see the headlines.

College queen bee turns out to be a murderer.

Is this how I’ll go down? For the murder of the woman who had become my ex’s new girlfriend?

What was the point of becoming picture-perfect, of being the popular, flawless girl if my downfall all comes down to this? The murder of my enemy.

My left fist tightens around the note in my hand, hopelessness growing within me.

It’s just a tiny, bloody, ripped piece of paper carrying simple words.

Victory belongs to the most persevering.

I love you

I miss you. Every day I wake up here, I look at her, and I miss you. Blue eyes shouldn’t look so dark. Blue skies are my favorite, and they reflect in your eyes like a crisp spring morning.

Blue is my favorite color.

Chapter One

Ella

tired of California - Nessa Barrett

Two months earlier…

In the future, I will look back at this call and realize it’s what started my downfall. But tonight, as I watch my phone ring through blurry eyes, I know nothing of the mistake I’m about to make.

My four best friends and I sit in a circle around a fire pit, enjoying the last summer party before going back to college. The August air makes our skins sticky, and the slight breeze from the night is a relief on our hot bodies.

People party inside my friend Alex’s house, but the five of us separated from the crowd and walked to the lake. It’s glistening from the moon and the sky turning a royal blue, leaving the pitch-black of the night behind.

It’s not always fun being popular. We’re used to it, but as someone who’s worked so hard for that status, it’s exhausting. Especially when it’s become my entire personality. People are in my face, watching my every move.

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