Page 9 of Wild Lies

Blowing out a heavy breath, I stand at the same time as Wyatt. “I’m working on the ATV that broke down last week. I need to pop into town first and pick up the part Marshall ordered.”

I follow Wyatt as he heads for the door before stopping in my tracks when Grayson asks, “Kade, have you got a second?”

Wyatt gives me a shit-eating grin before waggling his eyebrows and mouthing “You’re in trouble” as he walks out and closes Grayson’s office door. Nothing in his tone gives me a clue as to what Grayson might want to talk about, and that settles in my gut like a rock.

Does he know? About the rodeo?

He can’t. If he did, he would have spoken to me about it a lot sooner.

God, I hate the lies.

Inhaling a deep breath to calm my racing heart, I slowly turn toward Grayson. He’s looking at me expectantly, and when I don’t take a seat or speak, he stands, rounding his desk to lean on the edge. Our dad used to do that.

Over the years, but especially since Dad passed, Grayson has stepped up to be a father figure to us Wilde kids. Every day, he reminds me more and more of Dad.

“Is everything okay with you?”

I huff out a laugh nervously. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

Grayson shrugs a shoulder, his gaze never wavering from me. “I don’t know, you just haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”

“I’m fine. Just got a lot on my mind.” Please leave it.

I can tell he wants to ask more questions, but that he’s warring with himself over whether that’s a good idea or not. It feels like hours pass before he dips his chin and sighs heavily. “Okay, but I’m here if you wanna talk. We all are.”

“I know.”

My secret is on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill from my lips. Grayson and Wyatt weren’t there when Uncle Kurt had his accident, but they felt his loss as much as I did. My attention shifts to the picture of Uncle Kurt, our dad and Mom with her belly round with Grayson as they stand on the front porch steps of the house, with beaming smiles on their faces.

Any idea I had about telling Gray my truth disappears as I look at that picture. It’s a reminder of the promise I made, of the man with so much life left to live and the danger that comes with the rodeo. Instead, I leave, carrying the weight of my lie, just like I’ve done for so long now. There isn’t a world in which I can come clean and not leave my family heartbroken at my betrayal. Nobody wins, especially not me, because as soon as my secret is out there, I’ll lose their trust and the rodeo.

6

CHLOE

My sister is getting married today, and I am attending as nothing more than a guest. When Rachel told me she was getting married, we agreed that I would come to show my support and love, but that I would not be involved in any of the peripheral events.

I’ve worked hard to try to heal the damage our parents did to us growing up. But if Rachel wants them there—or even in her life for that matter—I’m not going to skip out of showing up and supporting her. Even if our relationship has been strained since I turned my back on our parents seven years ago. Am I sad about it? Of course; she’s my sister. But I know that if I ever needed her, she’d be there for me, just like I would with her.

Unfortunately, even with skipping all the other events, the wedding still means a full day of fielding questions from my parents about my life, from my relationship status to my now non-existent job. And although I am mostly healed, I still carry the weight of their expectations. Years of being told I’m not good enough or snide remarks being made when I celebrated my achievements can do that to a girl. I still remember the disappointment neither of my parents bothered to hide when I told them I wanted to be a photographer, or that I’d won a prestigious internship with a fashion magazine. Nothing was ever good enough for them.

I’ve only had a fleeting moment with my mom in the reception of the main house when I checked in. She looked as put together as always, if not a little older, as she moved through the lobby in a flustered panic about something I couldn’t figure out, barely stopping as she waltzed her way through. Of course, my father was nowhere to be seen.

I’m grateful that I’ve managed to escape their attention so far. Rachel has always been my parents’ favorite, and for the most part, I was okay with that because it minimized their expectations of me. But even now, after not seeing each other for years, I was treated as nothing more than a guest, greeted with a courteous hello before my mom rushed off to do God knows what. It stung for a second, but after replaying the moment over and over on the way to my cabin, I realized that was exactly what I want. I’d rather the cold indifference than my mom trying to dig into my failures.

My phone buzzes on the bed, and I swipe it up, waking the screen with a touch.

Maya

Good luck today. Don’t let your parents get to you.

Chloe

Easier said than done, but I’m hoping they’ll be too busy to notice me.

Dropping my phone to the mattress, I ignore the weight that settles on my chest, instead twisting and turning as I check my reflection in the mirror. Admiring the emerald-green dress that brings out the green in my eyes is much easier than working through the guilt I feel at having cut myself off from my family. Even if it was something that needed to happen.

The dress—a designer one I managed to find in a thrift store back in Seattle—is full length and flowy, with chiffon wrapping around my neck in a halter style. I had to have it taken up, given my less than model-like height. Still, I feel confident in it, especially with the thigh-high slit on one side that gives a peek of my toned leg with every step.