Home > Bury Me with Lies(9)

Bury Me with Lies(9)
Author: S. M. Soto

“What happened?” Marcus and I ask in unison, diverting our attention to Trent, to see if he has any news on Vincent’s condition.

He looks like shit. His clothes are wrinkled, as though he rolled out of bed when he got the news about Vincent, and didn’t bother looking in the mirror. I’m sure I don’t look any better. His hair is in disarray, and dark circles are under his eyes. Trent blows out a heavy sigh and glances toward the bed. Vincent is still out cold.

“I don’t know, man. We were supposed to meet up last night for drinks, but he never showed. I haven’t been able to get ahold of Zach. I got the call and came straight here.”

Marcus and I share a look. What the fuck happened?

I cross my arms over my chest, searching Trent’s gaze, trying to spot any possible lies. “Marcus tracked Vincent’s phone, and he was in Ferndale during the accident. You know anything about that?” My voice is cold and emotionless, the way I like to keep it, so no one can read what I’m thinking.

Trent’s brows tug down in confusion. “That can’t be right. We were supposed to meet at Kings for drinks. Why the hell would he be out there? He fucking hates it there.”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Marcus sighs.

“What the fuck is happening, Baz? For years, we haven’t heard a goddamn thing, and now, all of a sudden, we can’t stop hearing about that fucking shithole! I thought you took care of it?” Panics flares in his eyes because he knows he has the most to lose.

I grit my teeth at his accusation. After what happened last night with Mackenzie and everything else that seems to be falling apart around us, I snap. Clasping my hand around his throat, I squeeze, dying to plow my fist through his fucking face because I’m still secretly upset about his kiss with Mackenzie.

Marcus jumps into action to pull us apart. “Hey! Knock it the fuck off! We have bigger things to worry about right now,” he growls, finally dragging us away from each other. With a hand on each of our chests, he stands in the middle, holding us back from one another. My chest is heaving as I work to control the rage that’s suddenly vibrating through my body. Trent’s face is red with frustration and likely from lack of oxygen.

As if answering our unspoken question, Vincent begins to stir. Marcus and Trent close in around his bed while I hang back, waiting for him to open his eyes. He does slowly, letting out a groan of pain in the process. A grimace ripples across his face, and he glances around the room, taking in his surroundings with a slow perusal that I can’t tell if it’s due to the brain injury or something else.

“Vince…you all right? What happened?” Trent asks, coughing into his arm and shooting a glare at me in the process.

Vincent’s gaze darts to mine. A beat passes as he stares at me before he turns back to Trent and answers him. His words are a punch to the gut. They have my spine going ramrod straight, and my blood boiling.

“I ran into Scarlett.”

His words give everyone pause, and all the oxygen is sucked from the room. We all freeze, and I feel the guys’ eyes on me as I work to process this information. Slowly, I step up to the foot of his bed, the blood rushing through my ears in a deafening roar. I grit my back teeth as I stare down at Vincent, waiting for him to explain himself before I lose my shit.

“We had an argument.” My gut twists, and I clench my jaw, working to tamp down my anger. “She drove us off the fucking road. That’s the last thing I remember.”

“Just wait a fucking minute here. What do you mean you ran into Scarlett? Where were you? Why were you two in the car together?” Marcus asks all the things I’m suddenly incapable of asking. My fists are opening and closing at my sides, and I fear if I move, I might lunge at Vincent and wring his neck, much like I tried to do minutes earlier with Trent. The anger that’s suddenly living and breathing through my body, as if it’s just a vessel for the violent acts, should be concerning, but it’s not.

This is new to me. I don’t react like this because I’ve mastered the art of being numb. Always calm and aloof during instances like these. That’s just another thing Mackenzie fucking changed.

“Did you not just hear what I fucking said, Marcus?” Vincent snaps. “That bitch drove us off a fucking cliff! Look at me!” he shouts, his face turning an unhealthy shade of red. I take a threatening step forward, and Marcus shoots his arm out, holding me back.

“Off a cliff?” Trent questions. “Where the fuck were you?”

We know exactly where he was, but he doesn’t know that.

“I was in Ferndale, goddammit. She must’ve followed me there. I don’t fucking know.”

His words give me pause, and my gaze narrows even further. Just how far would Mackenzie go to get my attention? Was that what this was? Vincent in the wrong place at the wrong time?

But what the hell was he doing all the way in Ferndale? He fucking hates his parents. There’s nothing left for any of us back in that shit town but bad memories and, even worse, skeletons in the closet.

I was doing my damnedest to keep the door shut on those skeletons, but it seemed someone already had the door cracked, and when I found out who it was, I was going to end them.

For good this time.

 


Zach is the last one to arrive about an hour or two later, looking disheveled and confused. Marcus and I share a look, silently wondering what took him so long getting here. Unable to help it, I rake an agitated hand down my face. Nothing about Vincent’s story from earlier is making sense. I keep going over and over it in my head, and it doesn’t add up.

“Tell me again. Tell the fucking story again.”

“Are you kidding, Baz?” Zach growls, coming to Vincent’s aid. Marcus recounted Vincent’s story from earlier to Zach when he got here, and he didn’t even seem to question it, a lot like Trent. They are so sure he is telling the truth when Marcus and I know he is keeping something from us.

I just don’t know what that is yet.

It is the name he kept repeating that makes my chest feel tight. I don’t want to believe it. I can’t believe she has anything to do with the accident.

Mackenzie did it.

Or at the very least, that’s what he wants us to believe.

I have to keep shaking my head, trying to make sense of it. None of the guys know Mackenzie by her real name. To them, she is Scarlett. They still don’t know all the details of what happened between us, but they know enough. I start to wonder if she really was capable of more than she let on.

What were they doing together?

Why was she in Ferndale?

And the question I am most afraid of finding the answer to is, what has she done?

Vincent lets out a pain-filled groan as he tries to shift his weight. “I already fucking told you assholes what happened. That psycho bitch drove us off a goddamn cliff.”

My nostrils flare as I work to control my anger. That’s how I know whatever spell Mackenzie put me under is working. She may have very well tried to kill someone, and here I am, getting angry that Vincent is calling her a psycho.

I feel the weight of the guys’ gazes on me, likely judging me for bringing her around. But the issue I’m currently having with all this is with Vincent. I’d like to think I know Mackenzie, if not all of her, at least a small part, but Vincent…he’s like a brother to me. I know him well enough to know when he’s holding back. He’s keeping secrets, not telling the whole story, and I need to find out why.

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