Page 206 of Never Tell Lies

I was desperate to tell him where I was, to have him come and ensnare me once again. I gritted my teeth against the deep ache in my chest and stuffed my phone back in my bag. I couldn’t bear to even text him. What would I say? A lie? He would know. Even through a text he would know. I just needed to get there before he decided to come to me. Once I was there, he couldn’t touch me anymore.

I counted every second that drew me closer to the tiny row boat in this storm stricken sea. As the car finally turned onto the street I’d walked down a million times, my phone buzzed again.

I understand. I’ll tell Mike to keep his distance while you’re there.

A.

He wasn’t coming? Was this another trick? I didn’t have time to consider it as the taxi slowed to a stop. I paid the driver and jumped out. My stomach roiled as I headed up the familiar driveway. What if I was turned away? What if I had pushed it too far?

Holding my nerves, I knocked on the door I’d knocked on a thousand times. I heard footsteps that matched my heartbeat and a moment later I was met by those warm brown eyes.

“Lo?”

I opened my mouth but my words got stuck and suddenly, just like that, everything became real. Pain seared through me, branding betrayal on my insides. Keira’s face creased and she grabbed me and pulled me inside, slamming the door behind us.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe. Water rushed in my ears.

“Lo, what happened?” she asked, frantic as I tried to make my lungs work. I watched as it dawned on her and I begged her in silence to please not throw me out and sayI told you so.

“Shit, Lo…Do you want my wine?” She held out her half-empty glass. A cracked laugh forced its way out of me, giving way to tears that had been building for so long. I crumpled to the floor and began to crack. My soul snapped like the last shreds of a hacked-away tree trunk, giving way with a groan as the great giant crashed down to the earth. My best friend settled next to me and wrapped me in her arms. “Oh, Lo. Is this about Alfie or Adam?”

“It’s Alfie, he…” I paused, registering what she’d said. “Why would this be about Adam?” How did she know what he’d done to me? Keira paused, her chocolate eyes round with concern and confusion.

“Oh, I thought that you…Nevermind, what’s happened with Alfie? Is he okay?” Despite my agony I searched her face. She was hiding something.

“Keira, why would you think I was upset about Adam?” I asked her, my voice barely suppressing the tremor. She bit her plump lip, worrying it in a way that made me nervous. Keira didn’t pause or falter, not ever.

“Maybe I should tell you later when?—”

“Keira.” I had no room left for patience. Whatever she had to say, I didn’t want to hear it but I knew I needed to. There was nowhere left to hide. “Why would I be upset about Adam?”

Keira slipped her hand into mine before meeting my gaze once more.

“He’s dead, Lo.”

Her words rang in my head but I couldn’t process them. It just wouldn’t compute.

“How?” My throat felt dry, the question rasping on my tongue.

“One of the girls I work with, her cousin was Adam's roommate. The night before last, he found him in the bathroom. They think he slipped in the shower. His neck was broken.”

‘I should have broken his neck.’

Elliot had said that the night Adam attacked me.

Adam was dead. It didn't make any sense. I hated Adam and yet, I plunged head first into a barrel of guilt. Adam was dead. Murdered. Because of me.

I barely made it to the bathroom before everything in my stomach came up.

This wasn’t happening.

The night before last…I’d been with Alfie that night. Had he really done this? Had he ordered it? He couldn’t have.

I curled into a ball on the cold tile, my mind split, my insides cramping as they prepared for withdrawal of my addiction.

“Alfie…Alfie…” I sobbed. Keira sat with me, holding my head on her lap as I soaked her pyjamas with my tears.

I don’t know how long passed, but eventually my well ran dry and the tears stopped, but the pain remained, an agonising stake in my chest. Keira, my blessed best friend, hauled me up until I was facing her. I grounded myself in her familiarity, her eyes, the plumpness of her face, her soft hands. I shuddered at the words I’d spoken to her. How blind I had been. The shame of it was sickening.

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