The Lie That Traps (Lies and Truths Book 1) by Gemma Weir

Author:Gemma Weir [Weir, Gemma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hudson Indie Ink
Published: 2024-05-16T00:00:00+00:00

An impatient knock at the door pulls me from sleep, and I look around, disoriented and unsure where I am. As I take in my surroundings, it takes me a moment to remember that I’m in a bedroom on Hawthorn’s boat. Searching the walls for a clock, I finally spot one on the bedside table, shocked to see that it’s after three in the afternoon.

At lunchtime, one of the crew brought me a plate of food, and after picking at it, I must have fallen asleep. The knock at the door becomes more insistent, and I crawl off the bed and move to open it.

Twisting the lock, I turn the handle and open the door, finding a scowling Gulliver standing on the other side, his fist poised and ready to knock again.

“We’re back at the marina,” he says, running his eyes over me, taking in my messy hair and red-rimmed eyes.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute,” I say coldly, not meeting his gaze.

“Izzy,” he starts, but I interrupt him.

“I just need to freshen up, and I’ll be ready to go,” I say, turning and pushing the door closed in his face.

Padding into the bathroom, I splash some water on my cheeks before sliding my shoes on and heading back onto the deck. Four sets of eyes all turn to me as I step outside, but I ignore them all except Kip, whom I flash a small, barely-there smile to.

The silence that stretches between us as we wait for Matthew to secure the gangplank into place feels like it lasts forever, and the moment he steps back, I offer him my thanks and walk off the boat and onto the dock, not waiting for the others as I make my way back to Gulliver’s car. Picking at the skin on the side of my finger, I wait quietly by the Range Rover until the guys all appear, the mood somber. When Gulliver unlocks the car, I climb in, shuffling over to the far side of the rear seat so I can look out of the window rather than end up stuck in the middle between the two guys again.

The guys chat between themselves as we drive home, but I don’t engage in the conversation, merely counting down the minutes until we pull into the driveway for Gulliver’s house. When he slows to a stop, I’m grateful for Beth’s impeccable service as the front door swings open. I eagerly dart into the house, thanking her as I make my way upstairs to the room I used last night to gather my stuff.

Once I’ve packed everything I brought with me back into my overnight bag, I grab my cell and quickly dial Mark’s number.

“Miss Izabella, are you okay?” he asks.

“Could you come and pick me up from the Winslows’, please?”

“Of course, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” I say shakily, the fear of having to face my family starting to set in.

“I’ll be there soon,” my sweet driver says, his voice full of fatherly concern that brings more tears to my eyes.

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