Page 98 of The Lies We Steal

The night air is chilly and I’m thanking myself for wearing layers. The soft material of the hoodie paired with the large button up coat I’d thrown over it was doing the perfect job of keeping me warm.

My uninsulated Converse were a different story, I was pretty sure my feet might freeze off before the night was over.

Shoving my hands into my pockets to heat my fingers, as I watched two cars line up at the starting line.

“Ladies, gentlemen, whores and bastards, welcome, to The Graveyard!!”

Well that’s pleasant, I think as the surrounding crowd begins to rumble and scream. Clapping hands, hoots and chants make my stomach bubble with excitement. Lyra bumps my shoulder as she joins in on the clapping, encouraging me.

“As always, if you’re racing you should already be waiting in one of the pits. Please, no one walk on the track during the action, I don’t feel like scraping brains of the asphalt tonight.” He announces with a joking tone that makes the crowd cheer louder.

That should have scared them, it only ignited their exhilaration.

The first heat of cars rev their engines, the motors purring. We spend the first thirty minutes applauding as vehicles from Mustangs to Ferraris tear down the track. We weren’t even sure who we were rooting for but we knew it was fun.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking over between races for Alistair. The signature leather jacket was nowhere to be found and neither were his friends, not yet at least.

My curiosity wouldn’t let me leave it be. Leave him be.

I showed up to his dorm with a plan. Thank him for not killing my rat and returning her unharmed, she actually looked a little chunkier which meant he was feeding her a little too much, but I thought that was kinda cute.

I’d return the ring and we’d go our separate ways.

He knew I wasn’t involved in Rose’s death, he ensured I wouldn’t talk about Chris, and we’d cured whatever sexual tension had sizzled between us. There was no reason for us keep in contact.

I was supposed to be done with him.

Then he did what Alistair does best. He pushed me. He tempted me.

My brain wanted nothing to do with him. It knew that everything Alistair would be nothing but trouble and pain for me. But my curiosity, my body, they wanted just a little bit more.

Secretly, I also wanted to know about what they were up to. I wanted to understand why they were looking so hard into Rose’s death and how it landed them in Mr. West’s office. And if they didn’t plan on saying anything, I would, because there were more missing girls out there apparently and we couldn’t just let them be sold.

With timing I couldn’t have planned any better myself, I saw Thatcher’s blond hair reflect in the moonlight appearing from the entrance of the stadium. Silas in step behind him, wearing his hood down for the first time that I’ve seen.

Girls took immediate notice of this just as I had.

The gray skullcap beanie, paired with a sliver nose ring hoop that I had just noticed, a cigarette tucked into his lips and a skintight white workout shirt that did little to hide what he has beneath it.

I thought about that video, I thought about how terrible the pain he keeps inside must be. And even though they’d given me no reason to feel sorry for them, even though they’d been a living hell, I felt sorry for Silas.

They take a minute to scan the crowd, looking for where they are going to sit I think, when Thatcher’s eyes land on me.

It would take a lot for me to feel sorry for him. Even if I was civil with Alistair, I couldn’t stand Thatcher Pierson. Maybe it was because of his father, maybe it was because he allowed the reputation of his father to rub off on him. Like the fact his dad took lives didn’t even phase him.

And even though he didn’t know who Lyra was to him, I still hated the way he looked at her.

He begins the incline up the stairs, heading straight for our direction. My spine stiffens, preparing for an inevitable insult war that is coming for me.

“Ladies,” He coos, sliding into the row behind us and rubbing his hands together with excitement, “Who is ready for a little blood bath?”

“I think you’re out of luck, Dahmer. I haven’t seen much blood since I got here.” I sneer, looking over my shoulder and giving him a sarcastic smile.

He returns the same smile, matching my energy, “That’s just because Alistair hasn’t fought yet. There is always blood when he gets into the ring.”

Silas sits beside him quietly, puffing the brown end of his cigarette, my eyes making eye contact with him for longer than I would have liked. We sit there staring at each other, until he reaches into his pocket pulling out the pack of cancer sticks and leaning them towards me.

I think he thought I wanted one since I was looking at him so hard.

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