Read Online My Secret to Tell by Natalie D. Richards - Free Book Online Page A

barking like the world loudest pinball machine, and my nerves were rattled.
    “Maybe I should wait,” I said. “The application says fifteen. And the hours won’t count for high school until senior year.”
    Deacon snorted. “That’s crap. You don’t care about the hours. You told me you want this more than anything.”
    “I do.”
    “No one’s going to be better at this job than you. Now get in there and fight for it.”
    He stood beside me at Dr. Atwood’s desk, singing my praises until she agreed to take me on. He was there for me. I’m trying to be there for him too, but he’s running out of chances.
    “Emmie.”
    Deacon’s voice startles a group of birds in one of the live oaks. They rise in a thunder of pale wings and birdsong, and we both look up to watch them fly away. Once they’re gone, he moves closer, but I lift up a hand to stop him.
    “Wait,” I say. “Did you have any part in what happened to your dad? Did you hurt him?”
    Pain flashes across his features. “Not like you think.”
    “That’s not an answer. I want to know everything. Joel wants me to tell you he’s sorry and that he’ll try to help, and I’m afraid he’s saying that because he thinks you’ll be arrested. Sheriff Perry is looking for someone. We both know that someone is probably you. Does Perry have a reason to be looking, Deke?”
    His laugh is sharp enough to use as a weapon. “When does Perry not have a reason to look for me?”
    “Don’t start with that. I’m asking you to tell me the truth.”
    “I told you what I know,” he says. “It’s a shit show. And I’m sorry you got mixed up in it. As for Perry, yeah, I’m sure he’s looking for me.”
    He turns away. Is he going to run forever? Would he do that to Chelsea, leaving her like Landon left me? And what will I do about it? Am I going to call the police? Maybe. Either way, I promised Chelsea I would bring him to the hospital, and that’s what I’m going to do first.
    But I need to make sure I still believe him.
    I walk closer. “Look me in the eyes and tell me if you put your dad in the hospital.”
    His gaze doesn’t waver. “I didn’t.”
    “Then we can fix it. We’ll fix this.”
    “Always the solutions girl.” His voice is light and easy, but his eyes are a tempest. “God, Emmie, there’s just so much you don’t know.”
    “Yeah, I got that memo. How about you fill in the blanks for me? Because you look guilty as sin, and I feel like I should have called the police when you showed up in my bathroom and a dozen times since then, so level with me. You didn’t put him in the hospital, but you did something, didn’t you?”
    Something in his expression breaks. Underneath, he’s so raw. “I hit him.”
    My breath puffs out, and my cheeks go cold.
    “I can’t tell you everything,” he says. “But I promise you I hit him once . One time. Hard enough to hurt my hand, hard enough to hate myself for it, and definitely hard enough to make me look guilty, but that was it. I might have left a bruise, but I didn’t…” He trails off.
    I square my shoulders, willing myself to stay strong. To ask the hard questions. “Have you ever hit him before?”
    “No.” He squirms like something is hurting. “I need you to understand he gave me a hell of a reason, Emmie. I wish to God I could explain better, but Chelsea made me promise not to say anything to you about this.”
    That stops me cold. My best friend is keeping secrets from me? I mean, sure, we’ve all got skeletons in our closet, but Chels and I have been close forever. She knows all the dirt I’ve got. I know Chelsea doesn’t air dirty laundry, but I never dreamed she’d put on a show for me.
    Deacon must see the hurt on my face, because he sighs. “Please don’t be hurt, Emmie. It’s not really about her. It’s about Dad. She doesn’t want you to think badly of him.”
    “Because of his reputation?” I ask. “Because he fired my dad?”
    “He fired Tim?” Deke looks