Where the Truth Lies

Prologue

Jenn

The Past

THE ROAD WAS dusty. So dusty that every time a car drove past, dirt flew into my mouth. Grit crunched as I ground my teeth in frustration.

It was too hot. I had never been able to cope with the southern heat. Maybe it was the humidity. The way that simply breathing felt like taking a gallon of water into my lungs. Perhaps that was appropriate. The longer I stayed here, the more it felt like I was drowning.

I needed to get out of town. I definitely had the feeling I had overstayed my welcome.

Particularly after everything that had happened. This wasn’t a place where I could settle. That had been made abundantly clear. There was nothing here I could lay claim to as mine.

Leaving was my only option. And the sooner the better.

Though, not having a car had me relying on my thumb. Some would think it was a stupid decision.

“You’re too young!”

“It’s dangerous!”

But there was no one around to keep me safe anymore.

The road was pretty busy, but still no one stopped for the eighteen-year-old woman hitchhiking with a massive book bag weighing her down.

It held all of my earthly possessions. Everything that mattered fit into the canvas sack. I couldn’t think about how depressing that was. Otherwise, I’d have to drop to my knees and sob.

I had nowhere to be. No real destination in mind.

In the beginning, that was the appeal. That’s how I ended up here. But now, it felt like the not knowing was the worst possible outcome. I had wanted to make a plan this time, to be smarter, more logical. But after everything I knew, I needed to get out.

Before the choice was taken from me entirely.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. I couldn’t be sure.

Even though the sun had started to set, the air still felt sticky.

My steps became sluggish, sweat dripping down my face, soaking the collar of my T-shirt.

I slid the heavy gold ring along the chain around my neck, the weight of it imprinting on my skin.

Maybe I should take it off. It’s not like it meant anything now.

My thoughts became dark, miserable things. Swirling with equal parts regret and longing that felt heavier than my book bag.

I should never have come here.

Beep!

Startled, I looked over my shoulder and froze like a deer in headlights.

The beat-up white Honda Civic came to a stop beside me, and the driver rolled down their window. The young man driving gave me a shy grin that was tinged with something harder to read.

“Need a ride?”

I hesitated. I was still angry and upset with him, but I wanted to believe that maybe I had reacted too harshly.

The truth was, I was leaving anyway, and I didn’t want the memory of him to be tarnished forever.

I’d been avoiding him all week, and I was tired of it.

I needed to remember how he was in the beginning.

Then maybe I wouldn’t hate myself so much for trusting him.

“Sure,” I said with a tired shrug, knowing I should have thought twice before accepting. Yet, I still felt longing flapping wildly against my ribcage. I headed to the passenger-side door and hopped into the seat, the sensation still strange, having only been given a ride once before.

I glanced behind me as he put the car in drive and wished I could jump out again.

My eyes widened at the sight of the self-righteous grin taunting me from the back seat.

“You,” I snarled, the single word an accusation and a gasp of horror.

I turned back to the driver—the man I briefly loved with my whole heart. I had no idea they knew each other. How was that possible? I should have known that the worst kind of birds really did flock together.

I wanted to tell him to let me out. That I couldn’t be in this car a moment longer. That I was scared.

No.

I was petrified.

There were so many people to fear. So many who wished me harm. But the most horrible of them were in this car.

Soon we were cruising at speed and my pleas died on my tongue. I should have screamed. I should have thrown myself from the moving vehicle. But I didn’t. Maybe I really was a coward.

We were heading out of town. I slowly turned back around, though I knew better than to turn my back on a predator.

“I guess you’re leaving.” His eyes narrowed, his mouth set firm. “Were you planning to go without even saying goodbye? How could you do that to me? Haven’t you seen my messages?” He sounded angry. I knew I should take notice of that.

I glanced at his now familiar face. He wasn’t conventionally handsome, but he had been kind to me when I felt lost and alone. And in the short time I had known him, he came to be important to me.

After everything I had learned, I knew we could never be together. And it was made clear to me that I needed to sever the tie between us completely.

“I couldn’t. You know why,” I said softly, looking out the window, trees whizzing by.

I felt uncomfortable having this conversation in this car.

I should shut it down. I didn’t want to reveal too much.

Especially when I could feel eyes on me from the backseat.

The pronounced silence as they listened to every word.

“Jenn, I’m sorry it turned out like this. I only wanted you to hear me out. Let me tell my side of the story—”

“Is there really another side that matters?” I asked, surprised by the bite in my tone. Where did that backbone come from? I stiffened at the snickering behind me.

“Of course it matters!” he shouted. I watched the tick in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. He took a slow breath in an effort to calm himself down. “What I wanted to tell you is I don’t care about all that. I want to come with you. Like we talked about.”

God, how I wished I could say yes, but I knew I couldn’t. What he had done was unforgivable.

“I’m sorry, but … this is for the best,” I said.

His hand came down on the steering wheel. Hard.

The flash of anger wasn’t unexpected, yet it startled me all the same.

This time my own rage unfurled and opened its formidable jaws.

No, it didn’t have to be like this … if it weren’t for him.

If he had done things differently then maybe he could come with me.

Leave this town and start new somewhere else. Together.

I looked at him. Really looked at him. This man who, for a brief time, I trusted. Who was he really?

A liar.

Or something worse?

Because I saw the real him he kept carefully tucked away and only let out when control was lost.

His eyes kept flicking toward me. He was afraid. Or angry. Maybe both.

“I’m sorry …”

My voice seemed to infuriate him.

“It didn’t have to be like this, Jenn,” he said again. Lower this time. Like a growl. I heard the mocking snicker behind me again and knew it was too late.

Things had gone too far, and I was an idiot to think I could undo the damage that had already been done.

Let me out!

The words were a violent scream inside me.

Let me out!

But they died on my lips, held back by my insidious hope.

I wished I could murder that hope. Kill it before it ruined me.

He kept driving.

And for the first time since meeting him, I dreaded where he was taking me.