Forbidden White Lies (The Forbidden #4)

Chapter 1

No Big Deal

Marnee

When I was seventeen, I fell in love with a criminal.

Despite being raised a good catholic girl and going to church every Sunday with my parents—or maybe in spite of it—I threw my morals out the window and threw myself at Van Bennett, the hot heir to the Irish Mob that ran my town. To my complete shock and total delight, it worked.

Van wanted me.

To boot, my best friend, Nina—the new girl in town that took right to me—ended up dating Van’s best friend and literal partner in crime, Jake Monroe.

My senior year was dangerous and hot, filled with sex, crime, and alcohol.

We lived life like it was straight out of a movie. We never got in trouble. The entire town admired Van and his family, the O’Learys. No matter how much chaos they caused, they always seemed to be offering more to the community than they took. I think that’s the key. To life. To relationships.

To being revered.

And the O’Learys were—and are—revered.

Van and I dated for a little less than a year and it was the most fun time of my life.

Until it wasn’t.

Things fell apart shortly after prom. There was a shootout at a local motel. I took a bullet to the arm. One kid died. The rest of us were lucky to be alive.

At least, that’s how it’s remembered in our community.

The Mount Pleasant Prom “Massacre” shook up our little town and put everyone on edge. People were scared for a while. And they looked to the O’Leary family for protection.

Not me. I knew what had really happened.

Jake’s little sister had killed the kid. She said it was an accident, but Nina and I knew better. We took one look at Skye and knew something more had happened. She had taken him out on purpose.

Then we—with the help of Van’s uncles—covered it up.

That’s right, I'm an accessory to murder.

At least, I think I am. I’m not sure what the charge would be, and I hope I never find out.

For the O’Learys, the event wasn’t even that big of a deal. It was a Saturday night. They barely even remember it. But the whole thing ate at me for years.

And this scar on my arm—a little zing from an accidental bullet shot by Van’s drunk uncle that grazed me—reminds me of it. Of what no big deal looks like to them.

After prom, Jake and Nina broke up, and she left town. Their break up further fractured our little crew, but truthfully, the cracks were already there.

Van had eyes for Jake’s sister, Skye, and I could see it. Hell, everyone could see it. Except for them.

Van and I broke up shortly after Jake and Nina.

Fast-forward a few years and a few more felonies, and things have changed quite a bit.

Nina (of all people) secretly had Van’s kid and put her up for adoption. That one surprised all of us.

Then Nina died.

Van and Skye got married. Found the kid. Brought her home.

Nina’s parents found out, and now they are contesting custody. The whole thing is a nightmare for everyone.

Especially poor Jake.

Van and Jake are still friends. They’re really close actually, but something about them is different. I suppose that happens when your best friend sleeps with your girlfriend and your sister. Funny how I see things differently now. How Van doesn’t light up my life the way he did in high school.

Then again, I’m a very different person than I was in high school.

I got my nursing degree and married another guy from Meredith Falls. A nice, safe guy. We moved into a cute little two-bedroom ranch in the we don’t make millions part of town, far from the hill Jake and Van lived upon.

We got a dog. She was a rescue touted as a “mixed breed” that was a walking ball of muscle, but a total sweetheart. We named her Meatball. Life seemed okay.

But okay is just that… okay.

It doesn’t keep you up at night or infiltrate your dreams when you finally do fall asleep. It doesn’t dominate your solo car drives where you practice what you might say if you happen to run into him.

And I'd tasted life at the top of that hill. A life that included seemingly endless amounts of money, power, respect, and fun. Oh God, the fun.

We did whatever we wanted. There were no rules. No laws.

Seriously, we broke a lot of laws. Not the least of which was staging a murder scene, but I digress.

Van and I weren’t meant to be. I don’t think I ever really loved him, anyway. I just loved the idea of him. Of what that beautiful, dangerous boy brought to my life. I missed the excitement.

The darkness that lets you know you’re alive.

So when that beautiful, dangerous boy from high school blew back into my life—right about the same time my marriage blew up—I found myself hanging around the O’Leary family again. But not for Van.

For Jake.

Jake wasn’t going through a breakup exactly, but a loss of a different kind. We leaned on each other. He was safe in a way I didn’t know existed. And—in a surprise that continues to shock me—he is the kindest, gentlest, truest man I’ve ever known.

So when he asked me to accompany him to St. Croix on a work trip, I said no.

Fast and hard.

Jake and I are very platonic. Very comfortable. We are very friendly friends. But just that. Friends.

A week together on an island could blur those lines. But—and I mean this with all my heart—I’d be a fucking lunatic to pass up an all-expenses-paid vacation to the Virgin Islands.

I don’t live at the top of that hill. I work my ass off for a paycheck that barely pays my bills. So, after some consideration and some pleading from Jake, I changed my mind and said yes.

We arrived an hour ago.

Our room isn’t ready yet, but so far Jake is a hundred percent business and his classy, Jake self.

Sure, the “business” we are here for is to check out a ruthless mob boss who has designs on taking over our small town, but Jake and I have this handled.

All I have to do is a little pretending.

No big deal.