Page 58 of These Dirty Lies

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Barely a whisper, the words clanged through me. “What—”

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” She started chanting the words over and over, each syllable more frantic than the one before.

I staggered back, so fucking confused and concerned.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate—”

“Oh my God, Harleigh.” The sister rushed over to us, practically shoving me away. “What did you do?”

“D-do? I didn’t do fuck all. She just started freaking out like this.”

“Shh, Harleigh, it’s okay.” She stroked Harleigh’s brow. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Harleigh slumped against her, and she draped her arm around Harleigh’s shoulder as she began leading her away.

“Wait,” I called after them. “What’s wrong with her?”

She shot me a terse glare over her shoulder before hugging Harleigh closer and guiding her away from me.

Leaving me standing there, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

“You spent all night trying to keep Cherri off Harleigh’s scent and then end up pulling that shit. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, okay?” The car rolled to a stop as I parked outside my trailer. “That’s the problem. I can’t fucking think straight. Ever since I found out she’s back, it’s like… fuck.” I exhaled a long, steady breath, but it did nothing to abate the anger inside me. The powerlessness and utter despair I felt.

Harleigh had been a mess. But I was fucking wrecked inside. Seeing her like that… it had fucked with my head.

Zane ran a hand over his buzzed hair and down the back of his neck. “I told her to leave.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t fucking listen.”

“Seems that makes two of you.”

“Asshole,” I grumbled, even though he wasn’t wrong.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked. “I mean, I assume there is a plan?”

“Avoid her for as long as possible?” I shrugged. “Fucked if I know.”

I didn’t want to avoid her, I wanted to drive straight over to that fucking house and demand answers. But I couldn’t.

“What about Cherri? She was pissed you left her waiting so long.”

“Cherri is inconsequential.”

“Try telling her that when she’s sucking on your neck like a fucking vampire. You’ve got a nice hickey, bro. Right… there.” He leaned forward and pressed his finger to my neck.

“Fuck off.”

The atmosphere turned somber as he asked, “What do you think was wrong with her? Harleigh, I mean?”

“Shit, I don’t know, Z. But the way she bolted up off the bench and stumbled between the trailers, it was as weird as fuck.”

“Maybe she had a panic attack or something?”

Or something.

“She’s different,” I said quietly.


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