The Lying Game #6: Seven Minutes in Heaven

hinting about something that happened to Louisa, something really traumatic. Do you know what they’re talking about?”

 

 

Thayer blinked in surprise. “Yeah, I do. It was pretty fucked up.”

 

My ears pricked. Thayer took a deep breath. “Last year, Garrett took Louisa to this party. It was almost kind of a joke—she was just this awkward, na?ve little freshman. I think he got it in his head that 

 

he was going to initiate her into high school life or something. You know, get her drunk for the first time, introduce her to all his friends. But the party got really out of control.” Thayer shuddered. “I 

 

was there. Not that I remember much of it—I was pretty blasted. Anyway, at some point in the evening Garrett lost track of Louisa. I guess at first he didn’t worry much. I mean, it was a party. He just 

 

assumed she was swimming or dancing or whatever. But after a while he started to panic. No one had seen her in hours, and people were starting to leave. He tore the place apart looking for her. Finally he 

 

ended up calling the cops.”

 

Emma suddenly realized she’d been holding her breath, and took a deep gulp of air. A part of her knew what was coming and didn’t want to hear it—but she needed the truth.

 

Thayer’s eyes were distant and glazed when he spoke again. “They found her in the pool house, unconscious. Pretty badly beaten up.” His lip curled in disgust. “She’d been raped.”

 

“Oh my God,” Emma whispered. A queasy feeling spread through her body.

 

“They caught the guy,” Thayer continued. “His name was Daniel Preuss. He’d graduated by then, but he’d been on the soccer team. He was a really good friend of Garrett’s.”

 

The memory rose up in me as Thayer talked. I hadn’t been at that party—it’d been the week of the state championship, and I’d been in Glendale with the rest of the tennis team. Garrett and Louisa had been 

 

out of school for a few weeks, but I remembered when he came back. He’d looked so vulnerable, so lost. That made it easy to ignore his mood swings, his temper tantrums—because after each violent flare-up, 

 

he looked so anguished. I’d made excuses for him every time.

 

But he’d been more broken than I’d realized. I pictured his face that night in the canyon, twisted into a mask of rage, the terrible things he yelled at me. How jealous he’d been that I was out there with 

 

Thayer. How he called me a slut for wearing shorts, his breath angry and hot with whiskey. He hated the fact that I’d wanted to sleep with him—and hated himself for wanting to sleep with me, too. What 

 

happened to Louisa shattered him, and he’d punished me for his own fear and self-loathing about not being able to protect her.

 

Emma’s stomach curled into a tight little ball inside her, her head spinning. “That’s . . . awful,” she breathed.

 

Thayer nodded. “Yeah. Garrett never really recovered.”

 

In spite of everything, a twinge of pity shot through Emma’s chest. She couldn’t even imagine the kind of pain Louisa and Garrett had been through. Then again, she thought, the same thing had happened to 

 

her—someone had hurt her sister beyond belief, and she had to live with it. Sutton hadn’t deserved what happened to her any more than Louisa had.

 

She looked up to see Thayer watching her closely. “So you think what happened to Louisa made him snap?” he asked.

 

Emma sat up, straightening her legs out in front of her. “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter, does it? He killed my sister, and I don’t care what his excuses are. He’s dangerous, and I have to find a way to 

 

prove it.”

 

Thayer was silent for a long moment, studying her face.

 

“You know, you’re so much like her.” He gave a sad smile. “Not just the way you look, I mean. When you get that determined gleam in your eyes, you remind me so much of her.”

 

Emma found that she was leaning slightly against his shoulder, their arms just touching. She knew she should shift her weight, put more distance between them, but she couldn’t seem to move. For just a 

 

heartbeat, something magnetic pulled her toward Thayer.

 

“But I’m not her,” she said softly, forcing herself to move away. “And you have to keep your promise. I don’t know what I’d do if Garrett hurt you, too.”

 

Thayer’s jaw clenched, and his hands curled into tight fists. But he took a deep breath and stood up, his eyes suddenly clear. “I promise. You know where to find me if you need anything . . . Emma.” Then 

 

he turned and strode off toward his car.

 

I watched him go, hoping against hope that Emma had made the right choice in telling him—and hoping against hope that Garrett wouldn’t kill him, too.

 

 

 

 

 

24

 

GO GOOGLE YOURSELF

 

Emma drove back to the Landrys’ house slowly, reluctant to spend the day inside and alone. She cruised for a while past organic markets and upscale boutiques, decorated for Christmas with garlands and bows 

 

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