Page 27 of Bitter Lies

“Sweetheart,” he chuffs, starting up the car and pulling from the curb, “everything about you is a lie. You suck people in with your innocent blue eyes and then spit them out like a black fucking widow.”

“That’s what you think of me?” Slumping against the seat, I stare at him blankly.

“Hm, you know what I think,Hals? I think you went psycho because the stories you created caught up with you, and you couldn’t see past them to the fucking truth.”

“I think you’re delusional,” I mutter petulantly.

I have no idea where this is coming from, but I can’t help wondering if this somehow leads back to our past, where he dropped me and moved on.

“Whatever. The truth is going to bite you in the ass so hard, and I’m going to enjoy every brutal minute of it,” he bites out through gritted teeth.

“What truth would that be?” I ask through numb lips.

Stopping next to the clinic, he looks me over with a weird expression and says, “Maybe you didn’t spend two weeks in the loony bin over Jason. Maybe you couldn’t stand the thought of what you did, hm? Pretty, innocent little Halsey Moore wouldn’t fuck multiple guys at once. No way. Does your mom know you’re a whore,Hals?”

Blankly, I stare at him as memories assail me that are ugly and rotten and horrifying enough when they’re trapped in my memories. But this? Fuck me.

With a macabre smile, I open the door and step from the vehicle. “You’ve said all this time that you don’t care, but I think you’re jealous,Griff. How’s it feel to know I fucked half the Kingston Prep football team?”

His face falls before he shores it back up, his mouth pulled back in a sneer. “Pretty fucking good because I’m not interested in sloppy fucking seconds.”

“You’re not interested at all? Remember? But don’t worry, I had a good time, and after, when I was done, I forgot all about you and your disgusting behavior.”

The lies taste ashy on my tongue but hurt will do that to you—turn you into a version of yourself that you never thought possible. I should know because it’s been the catalyst to every fucking nightmare since.

His brows slam over his eyes as he stares at me with a dark expression. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Didn’t you know? Well, I guess it’s meaningless now, but you didn’t care who I fucked, so I fucked them all.”

I don’t wait around for his response, shuffling into the clinic with a tight chest and panic stealing my air. What the fuck did Jason and his friends tell people?

And what the fuck am I going to do now?

∞∞∞

Although I’m still faithfully attending my therapy sessions, some days are better than others.

This morning was particularly brutal as he walked me through the events of that night, pushing me further than I was willing to go with an avid intensity that made me uncomfortable. I know he’s trying to help, but I’m not ready to go there. I may never be, and certainly not now after Griffin’s cruelty and the knowledge that my horror is out in the world where I have no control over any of it.

As a result, I skipped my class today because I just couldn’t bear to look at Dr. Marks after revealing so much of my brutal truth, nor Griffin with the unwarranted disdain behind his eyes.

Instead, I escaped to my room and relived every painful truth until I couldn’t see anything but the horror.

Unfortunately, this earns me a stern lecture from Griffin about my meds and mental health when he storms into my room after class and approaches me lying on the bed with a snarl.

Looking him over wearily, I murmur, “Thanks for knocking. Do you have a fucking key?”

He stands before me with his hands on his hips, his brows over his eyes. “Did you even go to your damn appointment?”

“Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” I snap, rising to a seated position. “Do you have a fucking key?”

“It’s all our fucking business,” he bellows.

“That’s bullshit!”

“No, it fucking isn’t. You think I can look in your mother’s fucking eyes and say I didn’t do as she asked? And of course, I have a fucking key, this is my fucking house.”

“I didn’t ask for you to care,” I shout, rage boiling in my veins.

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