Two Truths and a Lie (21 page)

I examined Thayer carefully, taking in every inch of him. I tried to imagine loving him. Having a secret relationship. Risking friendships just to be with him. Even dead, even memory-less, I could feel something stirring inside me for him, a magnetic pull that made me want to get as close to him as possible. At the same time, as I took in his dark eyes and menacing expression, I felt afraid. I knew there was something huge in my memories that I hadn’t seen yet, a horrible moment I had blocked out.

Emma picked up the receiver and took a deep breath. “We need to talk,” she said in the strongest voice she could find. “I have some questions for you about that night,” she went on, meaning the night Sutton died. “About everything,” she added.

Thayer raised his eyes to hers. Dark, bluish half-moons stamped the area beneath them; it looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. “You got my messages. You shouldn’t have any questions. But instead you acted like a complete psycho and ruined everything.”

Messages?
A cold, clammy feeling washed over Emma. He had to be talking about the
SUTTON’S DEAD, PLAY ALONG OR YOU’RE NEXT
note. And what he’d written on the chalkboard at the Homecoming rally after nearly killing Emma with that falling light.

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Thayer leaned back and gave her a cold, calculating stare. “Or is this just a game? Haven’t you heard? I’m not one to play games with. Not when I’m the only one who knows who you really are.”

Emma’s body went weak from her feet to her throat. Her fingers tingled around the base of the phone and she struggled to hold it against her ear. It was glaringly obvious. Thayer knew who Emma was … and who she wasn’t. He had done it. He had killed Sutton. She was sitting across from her sister’s murderer.

“Thayer, what did you do?” Her voice was a whisper.

I was dying to know, too. Thayer’s words, his posture, his entire being seemed to radiate anger. How could he have said he loved me, then hurt me?

“Wouldn’t you love to know?” Thayer grinned, flashing white teeth. “Anyway, did you hear the good news? We got the hearing moved up to next week. I’ll be out of here soon.”

“You’re getting out next week?” Emma repeated, beginning to tremble. That meant she was only safe for eight more days.

“Yep. My lawyer is trying to get the case dismissed. I’m a minor, and they’ve got me on trumped-up charges as an adult, but my lawyer’s going to prove it’s bullshit. This is Quinlan’s idea of revenge—that guy hates me. He hates you too, Sutton.” He gave her a long look. “And when I’m out, we’ll finally be able to talk one-on-one. Just like old times.”

The words Thayer was saying were innocent enough, but his voice dripped with sarcasm and hatred. He arched forward, inches from Emma’s face. He bent so close to the glass that Emma could see the outlines of his breath against the pane. His pupils widened into black spheres. Emma clenched the phone tighter, feeling sweat between her fingers and the beige plastic. Then he slammed the phone into its cradle. A dull tone buzzed in Emma’s ear.

A hand clapped around Emma’s shoulder, and she jumped and twisted around. Stanbridge gazed at her sternly. “Visiting hours are over now, miss.”

Emma nodded numbly and followed him out of the room. I trailed behind her, electrical impulses snapping and flashing inside me. Something about seeing Thayer—and that guard clapping a hand on Emma’s shoulder—made a few doors unlock in my mind. I smelled the dust and desert flowers of Sabino Canyon. I felt the cool air on my bare skin. I felt that hand clap around my shoulder—maybe Thayer’s hand. Maybe right before he killed me.

Once again, I was zooming backward into my past …

19

I twist around and see Thayer’s face. It
is
his hand on my shoulder, and he doesn’t look happy. He clamps down hard, his fingers gripping the soft skin above my collarbone.

“You’re hurting me!” I scream, but his other hand claps over my mouth before I can call for help. He yanks me back from the edge of the cliff, jerking my body against his chest. My fingers claw at his arms and my feet kick frantically against the ground. My elbows stab at his ribs. I’m fighting like a wild animal, but I can’t get away from him. He’s too strong.

“What are you—” My voice is muffled beneath his hand. I finally manage to free myself from his grip and spin across the hardscrabble path away from him. But he advances toward me again, arms outstretched. My mind spins. I rack my brain for anything I can say to calm him down. What have I done to make him so angry? Is it because of what I said about Garrett? Or how hard I pushed him to tell me where he’s been the last few months?

“Thayer, please,” I start. “Can’t we just talk about this?”

There is fury in Thayer’s eyes. “
Be quiet
, Sutton.”

And then he lunges at me again. I try to scream, but it comes out like a strangled yelp as his hand smacks over my mouth again. His sneakers scratch against the dried leaves below our feet and his muscles flex as he pulls me against him. His breath is hot on my ear. Blood pools in my feet, and a sense of dread crawls across my body.

Suddenly, a scream sounds loud and clear in the distance. It’s hard to tell whether it’s human or animal. Thayer turns in the direction of the shriek, momentarily distracted. His grip loosens just enough for me to bite the inside of his palm. I taste his salty sweat as I sink my teeth into his skin.

“Jesus!” Thayer screeches. He rips his hand away, trying to catch his balance. I take off, my legs hot with adrenaline. Dirt crunches beneath me and leaves crack as I pound the earth. I fly across the trail, my hair wild and my arms pumping. A branch slices across my cheek, thin as paper and just as sharp. I can feel wetness on my skin. I’m not sure if it’s tears … or blood.

Things have been tense between Thayer and me before, but I’ve never seen him like
this.

A rush of cold air slaps my body as I push forward. I hear Thayer’s footsteps, and I can tell he’s gaining ground. I’ve traveled this path so many times, though, and the darkness gives me an advantage. I press on through the brambly mesquite trees and brush. Behind me, there’s a crash of Thayer’s body colliding with a tree or a rock. I hear him swear under his breath, cursing me.

I cut a sharp right around the boulder where my father and I used to stop for water breaks. “Sutton!” It’s a man’s voice, but the rocks must distort it, because it doesn’t quite sound like Thayer’s. I continue forward, my lungs burning, the tears running down my face, my heart thudding with fear.

I dart around a massive tree branch that blocks the path and scramble down the steep incline, heading for the trickle of water that passes for a creek—the only body of water in the canyon. I press my heels into the dirt to steady myself as I slip farther into the ditch. My hands reach for something—anything—to grab hold of, and land on a gnarled root along the creek bed. I reach the bottom and spring to my feet, taking off in the direction of the parking lot. I’m close. I just need to make it to my car.

I sprint down the trail toward the lot. I nearly wipe out when my feet slam the gravel. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see my beloved car. Skidding across the lot, I fumble inside my purse for the keys. My fingers close around the heavy, round Volvo keychain, but I’m shaking so badly that it flies out of my hands, landing with a jingle near the front tire.
“Shit,”
I whisper.

“Sutton!” a voice booms.

I turn to see Thayer emerge from the clearing. He’s barreling toward me, his hands clenched into fists, his shoulders rigid. I shriek. Time stands still. My limbs won’t move. I scramble for my keys on the ground, but there isn’t time. I turn to bolt just as his arms wrap around me. His fingers dig into my flesh.

“No, no!” I scream. His skin burns against mine. “Thayer, please!”

“Believe me,” Thayer whispers in my ear. “This is hurting me more than it’s hurting you.”

I feel him dragging me toward the thick woods next to the parking lot. But before I can see what happens next—my last moment, surely—the memory explodes like a bomb, leaving me with nothingness.

20

Thirty minutes later, Emma got out of a cab in front of Ethan’s house. It had begun to pour, a bizarre phenomenon for Tucson. It made the air smell like ozone and wet asphalt. The gravel in his front yard glinted under the moon.

Emma dashed across the grass, avoiding raindrops, and rapped on the white door. She leaned her ear close to the wood until she heard footsteps pad down the hallway inside. The door swung open to reveal the foyer. Ethan’s pale blue eyes widened at the sight of her. His dark hair was disheveled, like he’d been sleeping.

“Emma?” he asked, carefully stepping forward and touching her shoulders. “What happened?”

“I needed to see you.” Emma glanced over her shoulder. “Can I come in?”

Ethan stepped aside. “Of course.”

Emma shut the door behind her and collapsed into Ethan’s arms. The weight of everything that happened with Thayer pressed down on her until her head fell into her hands. She sobbed for a good five minutes, her nose stuffing up, tears burning her eyes. Ethan rubbed her back the whole time.

I was happy my sister had someone to comfort her. If only I had someone like that. I was the one who’d just seen that horrible memory, after all—
I
was the one who’d been brutally murdered by someone I loved. It felt like my insides had been hollowed out. The Thayer I’d picked up at the bus station seemed nothing like the madman he’d become by the end. How could I have been so stupid as to have gotten mixed up with him?