Savage Little Lies: Chapter 2

Sloane

Dorian was tense for some reason.

It made me sad.

I mean, I got it really. He’d just been arrested, but as I watched him clamp up in the back seat of Callum’s car, I felt bad for him. It’d been a shit day. Hell, he’d had more shit than anyone should ever deal with. This morning should have been a victory for him. He’d gotten Principal Mayberry to confess to her place in his uncle’s murder.

It had been a victory in regards to that, but obviously things had gone sour. Mayberry wasn’t supposed to turn up dead, and Dorian had led on that was the opposite of what he wanted. He hated the woman, yeah, but he also wanted her to live with what she’d done.

No, things weren’t supposed to turn out like this.

Things were quiet in the car, so quiet. Dorian’s reaction at the precinct had been so unsettling. He was jumpy, and I wanted to help him.

He wouldn’t even look at me.

He was in his head, thick fingers flying through his blond locks, and as happy as I was Callum had been there to help us, I think his presence wasn’t helping in that moment. Callum was acquainted with me as my brother’s and my guardian, yes, but he was a virtual stranger to Dorian. He had helped Dorian, which was good, but I couldn’t be open with Dorian with him here.

And I wanted to be.

I just wanted to talk to him. Things had been so different when he just saw me at the precinct. He’d been relieved. I know he had. At least, it had felt that way.

“You sure you don’t want us to take you home, Dorian?” Callum stated, up front with his driver, Lucas. The black sedan was spacious, but not enough room for him to ride in the back as well. Hell, Dorian took up two seats on his own with his size. The large boy was like a sardine in the cabin. Callum’s eyes directed to the rearview mirror. “I’m sure you’d like to see your family right away after being where you were. Go home?”

Callum was referring to the fact that Dorian wanted to go back to the cabin and get his car. He’d been adamant about making his own way after that, and even I told him I’d take him back to the cabin later if he wanted to get his Audi. Ares, his friend, had been blowing up his phone before he’d gotten arrested and his parents had too. The news had just broken about Mayberry and her affair with Dorian’s uncle.

Dorian winced, like actually winced, in the back seat. He was so jumpy, and it hurt my heart. He wasn’t like that before at all, not before his arrest, even after everything that happened today. His lips parted. “I need to get my car.”

And that was it before he faced the window. Callum hadn’t tried to make small talk with him, but I had. Again, he hadn’t looked at me.

I wanted to try again, but not here. We needed to be alone. It might make him more comfortable.

The cabin wasn’t far, but far enough that we had to drive. Things were starting to get a bit more scenic, and after a few moments, I spotted Callum’s eyes again in the mirror.

“I don’t know if Sloane told you, but her father was an old friend of mine,” he said, clearly trying here with Dorian. Anyone in the car could see he was so tense right now. Callum smiled a little. “He used to work for me actually. Did I tell you that, Sloane?”

He hadn’t, my head shaking. This did raise Dorian’s head, though, his sight in that direction.

Callum nodded. “We go way back. He was a very good man. I was very sad to hear what happened to him.”

My father was a good man. Though troubled. He had struggled with mental health long before the end of his life.

“I was glad I was able to be there for the children,” Callum continued on with. “Sloane and her brother.”

Dorian raised his head again, his eyes narrowed. He exchanged a glance between Callum and me before facing the window again.

“Going to be in town long, Callum?” Dorian asked, surprising me. He continued to stare out of the window. “This is a pretty moderately sized town, but small, which means basically everyone knows everyone.” He glanced at him. “You’re not from here, right? I don’t believe I know your family.”

Callum’s head tilted up front. “I’m visiting town, yes.” He lifted a hand. “I came to visit the children.”

“Long visit?” Dorian continued. “Short?”

Dorian sounded short, again tense.

Callum acknowledged what Dorian said with another nod. “A few days, and I’m glad I came when I did.”

“I’m glad too,” I said, trying to get Dorian’s attention. “Really glad.”

Callum played it off like he hadn’t done much earlier, but he’d been around to get answers when I had no means to get them. He’d been ready and willing to pay Dorian’s bail. Something he would have had to do had Dorian not been released when the real murderer came forward.

Dorian swallowed at me. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes flicking forward. “I’m real lucky you came. Don’t know what I would have done.”

He sounded so off, weird.

And he faced the window again.

We drove in silence for another few moments before something on the radio took my attention. My head shot forward, and Dorian’s did too.

“Officials say the woman found at the old Prinze textile factory on Glen has been identified as Elaine Mayberry,” the radio said. “As this community knows, Mayberry was the headmaster of the prestigious Windsor Preparatory Academy.”

They were talking about our principal, the woman Dorian had been accused of murdering only moments before.

Dorian looked sheet white, and Callum asked Lucas to turn up the radio. He obviously recognized the name too. I’d told him all about the situation with Dorian.

“Officials also say a suspect surrounding her death has not only been apprehended, but they have an active confession on the record as well. Douglas Abernathy admitted to strangling and bludgeoning the woman following a recent debt she had to him surrounding illegal substances.”

“Oh my God.” The words fell from my lips. I’d known she died, but I hadn’t known the details. My attention shifted to Dorian. “Callum, maybe we shouldn’t be listening to this…”

It was probably hard for Dorian to hear anything about that woman. This was too close to home.

Dorian raised a hand.

“I want to hear it,” Dorian said, his voice quiet. He appeared haunted. “Keep it playing.”

The news broadcast continued on, but gratefully didn’t say any more details surrounding the murder itself. This was all completely messed up, fucked up.

“This news comes as a surprise,” the broadcast stated, “especially surrounding the recent controversy and confession surrounding Maywood Heights’s star quarterback Charlie Lindquist and a shocking affair he had with Mayberry herself. An affair that Mayberry admitted to in a video that went viral this morning after being posted anonymously to the Windsor Preparatory Academy’s academic website.”

I waited a second before looking at Dorian, not wanting to make a huge declaration about the video. Callum didn’t know about that, and I didn’t want to make it seem any of us knew the details about it.

Dorian wasn’t even breathing, let alone moving. He simply stared ahead, his fingers to his lips.

“As our listeners and the entire Maywood Heights community knows, Charlie was involved in an unfortunate shooting just last year in Mayberry’s home, in which her husband shot the young man before pulling the gun on himself. After this morning’s anonymously posted video, there are definitely some holes that have been filled in there. As the community also knows, Charlie was a well-loved member of the Maywood Heights community. His family, the respected and esteemed Prinzes, have helped to lay the foundations of this town, and our hearts go out to the family once again. The station is currently attempting to get a statement from the Prinze family surrounding today’s events. The family has expressed no comment at this time, but we hope to hear something soon. We will wait on your behalf, dear listeners, and worry not, you’ll be the first to know when we know.”

“Those fuckers are probably parked out in my neighborhood,” Dorian gritted. Though I believed mostly to himself. He scrubbed his face. “That’s probably why everyone was blowing up my phone earlier.”

Shit.

The “news” kept going on with their drivel, talking about Dorian’s family like they were simply a news story and not real people. Eventually, I asked Callum if he could shut it off, and he did, quickly.

“Very unfortunate,” my guardian said from up front. “My heart goes out to you and your family, Dorian.”

Dorian’s head shot up, his eyes narrowed.

Callum nodded, his eyes direct in the mirror. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. This must be so hard for your family.” His head lifted. “It’s a good thing everything worked out today for you. I can imagine your family wouldn’t want to deal with another thing. Your parents especially.”

A tight muscle feathered in Dorian’s jaw, all this obviously too much.

The car was slowing.

We’d returned to the cabin, both Dorian’s car and my brother’s Audi (the car I’d driven here) in sight and at not a moment too soon. Dorian obviously had to leave.

And he was so pale. He honest to God looked like he’d be sick.

“Thanks for the ride,” he ground out, trying to get out. He clicked open the door, then pushed himself through, the door slamming behind him. He stalked his way over to his car, and I unstrapped myself from the seat.

“Thanks for helping him,” I said to Callum on my way out too, stopping long enough to do that. The man had done so much, and really, he hadn’t had to at all. He just kept doing favors for me, for me and my brother and taking care of us.

Shifting around, Callum’s smile was small. “Of course. I hope things work out for your friend.”

I hoped so too.

After telling Callum I’d drive my brother’s car home, the wheels of Callum’s sedan pulled away, and I raced to catch up to Dorian. “Dorian!”

He was already in his car, the engine running. He was attempting to get the fuck out of here and quick. I waved my arms, but he didn’t see me until I got behind his car.

The wheels of his Audi burned to stop, and the next thing I knew, he was out of the car.

And pressing me against it.

He literally picked me up from behind his ride, pinning me to the back passenger’s side. His breath expelled, harsh and heated over my face and mouth.

“Don’t be stupid,” he growled, and I assumed referring to the fact that I got behind his car. He was angry, his eyes wild. He started to move away, but I wouldn’t let him, cutting him off.

“I know you have to go, but—”

“Then let me.” Our chests collided, the large boy looming over me. His eyes darkened. “And if you stand in my way again, I’ll go right through you. I swear to fucking God, little fighter.”

I blinked, not expecting this. My mouth opening and closing, I didn’t understand. “Dorian, what—”

“Don’t.” He put a finger in my face, actually shaking in front of me. He winced. “Just fucking don’t.”

Don’t what… exactly? My lips parted. “I understand you’re upset about everything today.”

“You do, huh?” His voice cracked, strained like it was laced with emotion. He got in my face. “How much do you know and how much do you think I’d be a fucking idiot?”

I twitched.

“Too convenient,” he gritted, and out of nowhere, his hand encased my neck. He squeezed, my breath catching. “Too fucking convenient, Sloane.”

I gasped. “What?”

He looked like he wanted to punch me, like he was straddling a line between doing that and squeezing harder.

He chose to squeeze, and the air stopped, my hands to my neck. I had no idea why he was so upset and why that rage, that anger, seemed to somehow be channeled at me. I gagged. “Dorian…”

“Don’t say my fucking name. Don’t—” His voice cracked again when he physically forced his face to mine.

He didn’t do it to kiss me.

His warm mouth hovered over my face, nose pressed to nose, mouth above mouth. I gasped.

He squeezed harder.

I couldn’t breathe, let alone think.

“What did I do?” I breathed out, but he blinked down.

“Get out of my sight,” he gritted, letting go, and I finally got to draw in air. I coughed, the harsh press of his fingers still felt in my neck. His gaze bored down on me. “Too convenient, and I’m not fucking stupid.” He shook his head. “Anyway, thanks for getting me out of jail.” He frowned. “Even if you’re the reason I got put in there.”

What…

He thought…

He thought it was me? He thought I got him locked up. “Dorian, I—”

“Don’t.” He physically cringed, like the words or whatever I was going to say pained him.

Maybe it did.

“No more,” he said instead, shaking his head. He left me basically on the ground, and this time when he got in his car, I got out of his way.

He peeled off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. He blamed me for this, his arrest. He’d accused me of such when it all happened, but I’d told him I hadn’t tipped the cops off about where he’d been. I’d pleaded with him. Begged.

I thought he’d believed me.

He obviously hadn’t, and his tension in the car made sense. He hadn’t just been upset about everything today, the situation. He’d also been upset with me.

He thought I betrayed him.