Page 30 of Pretty Girls Never Lie (St. Mary’s)

Brantley. I should have let him help me.

“Jess. Calm down. You don’t understand!”

I’m jerked harder, and I shout from pain. Zachary is in my peripheral, and so is a black gun. My heart is in my throat, and I close my eyes because I can see the outcome before it happens.

“You’re fucking her again! What don’t I understand?”

The shuffling stops, so I open my eyes to see Zachary take a step back. He’s facing both of us now.“Jess, put the gun down.You’re acting insane. Look at you!” Zachary throws his hands up and points to me. “You’re pulling a girl by her hair down the hallway while pointing a gun at me.”

“You made me this way.” Zachary rolls his eyes but springs into action when she pulls on my hair again. “And she did too.”

He’s in front of me one second, and the next, he’s not.

All the oxygen in the hallway leaves as his body slams into the floor below my feet. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. There’s a ringing in my ears that takes me back to a dark closet with someone’s arms around me, and that’s where my mind makes me stay, even as I feel something press against my temple.

EIGHTEEN

Brantley

I lean against the window inside her room and stare at the black lines that Zachary’s tires made when he sped away from St. Mary’s. My blood isn’t pumping with anger, and my heart isn’t speeding through my chest. Instead, there’s a hole that seems to grow bigger the longer she’s with him.

I told her I wouldn’t offer my help again, but it was a lie. Years could pass, and if she were to show up and ask for my help, I’d give it.

The window fogs with my sigh, and I storm toward the door, ready to burn her room to ash. I pull on the handle but stop abruptly when I hear something near her bed. I find the device right away. The phone is ancient and looks like it’s been dropped a time or two over the years with little indents and scratches on the sides.

“Hello?” A hopeful thought slips in past my denial that it’ll be Isla, but instead, there’s nothing but a muffling on the other end.

I pull the phone away from my ear and see that the call is still connected.

“Is someone there?” I listen intently. Just when I start to grow pissed at myself for hoping it was Isla, I freeze when I hear a timid child’s voice.

“Hel...hello?”

My brows fold. “I’m here. Who is thi–”

Oh fuck.

“Thomas?”

“I need help.”

Every muscle locks.

“Something bad happened.”

Isla.

“Hide.” I don’t even recognize my voice.

“I ran and hid in the closet.” For someone as unemotional as I am, I feel unhinged at the sound of his fear.

“Tell me what happened, but stay quiet.”

I’m almost to Tate’s office when Raven catches me in the hall. I put the phone on speaker and mouth, “Car. Now.”

Raven pulls me behind her, and we’re halfway to her car when we hear a loud pop through the phone. My world stops but only for a split second. “Call 911,” I say to Raven. “7678 East Elm Street.”

“Thomas? Are you okay?”

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