Page 25 of Scorching Lies

It’s mid-afternoon on a Sunday, so the one person I need to see isn’t reachable today, so I decide to visit someone who is more deserving. Maybe talking to her will clear my head so I can finally see the missing pieces. Pulling from the massive iron gates, my car speeds down the road heading south along the coastline. Blonde hair whips around my face with my radio blaring. The sunshine brings a small smile to my face, just for a moment. But the feeling of heated eyes on me has my lips falling flat.

Flicking my gaze to the rearview mirror, I spot a car a few paces behind me. Blacked out windows make it impossible to know who sits behind the wheel, but instead of the large SUV I expected it’s a sleek silver car. Not seeing the black Tahoe following me, I relax in my leather seats for the ride, the eyes becoming a distant memory.

The car turns off the road two streets away from my destination. I can’t help my deep sigh of relief, knowing it was some random person driving in the same direction. Thoughts linger in the back of my mind, reminding me that the feeling of being followed is still weighing down on me.

Large rows of grass cover yards and yards of space, bigger than three football fields. Del Mar’s cemetery is well kept, the grass cut to perfection, flowers on each grave, and the stones cared for. Our dead want for nothing, even in death. I pull the car into an empty slot, shifting into park but leaving it running while I give myself the pep talk of a lifetime. Staring forward, a tall dark shadow steps from behind a weeping willow swaying with the Cali breeze. Turning off the engine and tossing my keys into the center console, I swing my driver door open, letting in the salty air.

Squinting against the sun, my vans plant onto the asphalt, standing to face the shadowed man hiding under the shade of the tree. I charge towards him. Fuck hiding, the answers I need aren’t going to find themselves. Pocketing my phone, my legs eat up the distance towards him. Getting closer, I spot differences between the shadowed man and the one in front of me. Where my Shadow appears to be shorter with more bulk, this man is taller, muscles more defined. Built from working out, but not the kind you get from a gym. A few steps closer and an eerie calm falls over me when I get a good look at who's leaning against the rough bark of the willow.

“I thought I told you to stay away.” He snaps, ire spilling off of him.

Propping a hand on my hip my eyes roll, “What are you doing following me, Cole?”

Pushing off the tree he crowds me, our chest bumping in the process, coming so close that I find myself looking up to see his face. Emerald green eyes shine back at me, the darkness in them flashing like a beacon warning me of the dangerous man in front of me. Twisted venom drips from his tongue, lashing out at thewounds that he continues to rip open, refusing to let the scabs heal.

“Unless you’re here to crawl into the hole I have waiting for you, I’d suggest you fucking leave. It’s Sunday. Go home Princess before you find your way into hell.”

Soft fabric stretches under my palms, both hands planted on his chest, I shove against him, but he catches my wrist without so much as a shift backwards.

“Don’t fucking touch me you poisonous bitch.” He snarls.

Cole’s hold on me tightens, most likely bruising my skin, forcing me to wince from the bite of pain.

“Let me fucking go Coco.”

Using his childhood nickname sets him off, spinning me so fast all I see is a blur of grey headstones, my back slamming into the rough bark. Pinning my wrist above my head, he leans in closer, hot breath tickling my cheek.

“Call me that again and I’ll carve this silky skin into a fucking rug for us to walk over. You’re not worth the time it’ll take to bury you. I won’t repeat myself, Kingston. Get the fuck back to campus.”

Grinding my skin into the tree, his touch disappears, leaving my arms hanging at my side with a new branding sting in my skin. Walking after him, I decide fast that pushing him for answers is the next best thing since the dead can’t speak. Long legs stretch to eat up space in an attempt to distance us, but my need to follow him pushes me faster.

“What do you remember from that night?” I shout after him.

Cole’s steps falter for a second before continuing in the direction of the grave we both came to see today. Sunday. He said something about it being Sunday, so I shouldn’t be here but what does the day have to do with coming to see her? Ignoring the obvious tension in the air, I keep following until a large grey headstone appears to the right of our path. Avoiding the places where people are buried, I keep on the stone path until it turns onto the row Cole takes. Last thing I need is bad luck on top of all the bullshit going on in Del Mar.

Pausing at the large marble stone, Cole bends at the knee, his head dipped down, mouth moving but his words lost to the wind. Not wanting to interrupt his one-way conversation, I stand a few steps behind him, watching the way his shoulders slump lower with each breath. Reading the name on the headstone has my heart cracking behind my ribs, the grief of it all attempting to swallow me whole.

“Your father snuffed the life out of her. Stealing something so pure from the earth that it weeps with the loss.”

Paige Ann Sawyer

Her name dries on the tip of my tongue like chalk. My best friend. Cole’s first love. The one life the fire took that hit us the hardest of all. Mr. Stone was like a father to me, so losing him and my father was harder than anything in the world, but Paige? Cole’s right, the world lost a light that night.

“What was she doing there, Cole? What were any of us doing there that night?” My words panicked now that I’ve decided to ask those questions out loud.

He only shakes his head, eyes still staring into the marble.

Pacing. I’m now pacing while talking to myself out loud.

“We never went to meetings at the warehouse. The office? Sure. But why would we be there? And who is the voice in my head that saved me? None of this adds up!” I yell.

Jumping up, Cole turns towards me with a questioning look, “What voice?”

Shrugging my eyes focused on the ground.

“I still have nightmares about the flames. The way it spread over my leg, climbing me like a live wire setting my body on fire. The different voices yelling, screaming in pain, begging for mercy, but over all of the noise there’s alwayshisvoice. The voice that shushes my screams. Promising to take away the pain. Putting out the fire that boiled my skin into nothing but rotten flesh.”

Trailing off, my gaze slides back to his, tears pooling in my eyes. Cole just stands there, looking back at me with a mask over his face. Stone cold.

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