BooksBarbecue
Back One White Lie Save as PDF
Chapters (59)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. DEDICATION
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

Vera set it on the nightstand and sat on the edge of my bed, as if she were actually going to tuck me in. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about.’

If she sat there any longer, I knew I would cry. ‘You should get back home,’ I said.

Vera nodded, stroking my arm. ‘Just know that you’re safe here, with us,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to worry anymore.’

Penguin walking logo

SEVEN

Light streamed too bright around the edges of the drapes, and images from last night flooded my brain. The three of us sitting in the gazebo. Vera’s eyes as she’d discovered my bruise, even though I’d done my best to brush her off.

Dusty nuzzled against me, and I forced myself out of bed, letting him out the back door while I guzzled water. Back in the bedroom, I steeled myself and chanced a look at my old email. Sure enough, a reply from Ellie.

What was that email about? Seattle? What happened? And I tried to call you. It says your phone’s been disconnected? Holy shit, are you okay? Call me, please.

My insides knotted as I stared at her words. No mention of Davis – I wondered if she’d spoken to him, or even seen him.

How could I explain to her that disconnecting my phone wasn’t about her – it was about him? His moves and countermoves. His need for control. Even if I told her everything, I feared Davis would find a way to explain it, just as he had with me.

He’d made it seem so innocent, the first time he tracked me, just six months into our relationship. After a late Friday night with a friend, I’d awoken to three missed texts from the night before.

Where are you?

When are you coming home?

I know you’re doing your thing tonight but I’m worried.

I’d found him in the kitchen, my subtle hangover already exacerbating my guilt. He was at the counter, scrambling eggs. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I had too much to drink, and I stopped checking my phone.’

Davis’s hand stopped stirring. He stared at me for maybe a beat longer than he should have. But then, a smile. ‘It’s fine, babe, really,’ he said. ‘I logged in to your Apple account and used Find My iPhone to see where you were. That okay?’

We’d been living together a couple of weeks by then, and we were up-front about our passwords, like many couples were. Besides, I hadn’t had anyone to keep tabs on me in years. Ellie was my emergency contact, but I was never hers. Of course it was okay.