Page 8 of Sharp Lies

I did break one rule, though. I told my mother why I was leaving. And then I told her why she had to keep it a secret if she valued her life—and mine.

Then I ran for Chicago and a whole new life where no one had ever heard of Tony McCarthy.

CHAPTER 4

LILY

Five Years Later

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I STARED ACROSS THE expanse of open land and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of wildflowers and green grass, of warm sunshine and freedom. And the ocean. Always, the ocean.

I was happy.

The sun was on its way down to the horizon, and it was going to be another beautiful sunset here in northern California. I’d parked on the edge of a bluff close enough to the sea to give me the sound of pounding surf all night, but behind me, the land was rolling with greenery and color, that perfect moment in between winter and summer when the rain had stopped and the weather was warm, but the dryness of summer hadn’t kicked in yet.

I missed home, yes. But I freaking loved it here.

I smiled and turned back to my VW microbus–pink and white, thank you very much–and threw open the door. I’d restored the bus myself in Chicago with plans to take it on the road and had opened up the back enough to hold a mattress and a set of cupboards for traveling. I’d known from the moment I got into Chicago that city living wasn’t going to be for me. I was too much of a small-town girl. A little research, though, had turned me on to something called the van life, and I’d immediately taken to the idea. Nothing but me and the road and whatever odd jobs I could pick up. The freedom of going wherever I wanted and staying for as long as I liked. Seeing the world–or at least the continental US. Making my own way. Living only for myself.

I’d gone from loving the settled, easy life of a small town to craving the freedom of always being on the road, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to go back.

I mean, it wasn’t always easy. I’d been traveling for four years now, and there had definitely been times when the lack of a permanent home bothered me. Sure, I could go wherever I wanted, but I could never do something like buy a couch. And I was working in jobs that didn’t exactly take a lot of mental heavy lifting. I’d worked at carnivals and restaurants, fairs and pop-up retail places. I’d made too many friends to name them all and seen more than I’d thought possible of the country.

But there were times when I was distinctly lonely. I missed my mom.

A sharp bark from the backseat brought me around and reminded me that I wasn’t actually alone. I turned and eyed Silver, my pit mix, who’d been adventuring with me for the last three years. I’d found her as a puppy by the side of the road in Montana and stopped to pick her up, horrified that someone would leave a defenseless pup out there on her own.

She’d been so excited to see me that she’d climbed right into my T-shirt and fallen asleep, and I’d known at that moment that I’d been meant to find her. I didn’t bother looking for her owners. I never would have been able to give her back.

We’d been traveling together ever since.

“What?” I asked her. “You’ve had your dinner, and I know you can’t be thirsty. Do you need out?”

She barked again, which meant yes, and I opened the door back and followed her out of the van, laughing as she ran full-tilt toward the nearest patch of grass.

“Next time, tell me sooner!” I shouted after her.

I turned and looked across the sea, shocked at how much my life had changed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in a real bed. And it had been years since anyone had shouted at me. I’d run from Oakville with the bruises from Tony’s fingers still marking up my throat, and it had taken me a year of therapy to figure out how to get rid of the fear he’d instilled in me. I’d also spent that year constantly looking over my shoulder for his father, who’d come into the hospital and threatened me. I’d called my mother several times every day to make sure she was safe and had moved at least five times within the space of a year, just so no one would find me.

And if I was being honest with myself, that was probably part of the reason I’d taken to the road. Out here, I could see for miles around, and I was never in the same place two nights in a row. Even if someone saw me in a city or town, they wouldn’t be able to track down an address for me or get into my apartment and lie in wait.

And heaven help the man who thought he could break into my van with Silver there. She was the sweetest dog I’d ever met, but she was also fiercely loyal, and I didn’t think she’d hesitate before defending me against anyone who came looking for trouble.

I felt the smile touching my lips at the thought of my girl and turned just in time to catch her as she leapt at me.

“Oof!” I cried, falling backward several steps. “Girl, you’ve gotten way too big to do that. You’re going to knock me over one of these days, and then what will we do?”

She peppered me with kisses in response, and I laughed and put her down.

“You’re right. You’d probably lick me to death the moment I was on the ground. Some help you are.”

I turned and walked back toward the van, still chuckling to myself but thinking about what we were going to do for dinner. Silver might have eaten, but I hadn’t, and I was starving. Tomorrow I’d be on my way to a new temp job working the merch booth at a music festival, and I’d be in this area for the next two weeks as that went on. Which meant tonight was the start of a beautiful friendship with this town.

I’d have plenty of time to sample all the restaurants in the place if I wanted, and I loved that.

Tonight, though, I wanted something I could count on. Something I already knew I’d like so I didn’t end up going to bed hungry.