Page 26 of Tell Me Your Lies

I try to lift my head. “I think so. How long does this go on for?”

“Everyone will head to the main deck soon, to the guest quarters or collapse somewhere in the lounge and wake up late tomorrow and start again but Dad usually likes to be home before noon. If you head to the upper deck that’s where the family sleeps. There are spare cabins there. Use nine, one, one to get inside. Our names are on the doors, if you need to find me. I’m usually up at daybreak, so you’ll find me in the galley.” He pushes hair from my face. “You didn’t take anything, did you?”

I blink at him, trying to keep him in focus. What did he say about a place to sleep? Words seem to be slipping from my mind. “I’ve only had two drinks. I feel dizzy is all. Maybe I should go and lay down.”

“Welcome to a Boswell party.” He leans closer, lowering his voice, and his breath brushes my ear. “Just don’t fall overboard, Dad hates when that happens.”

I stare at him, unsure if he’s joking but he doesn’t clarify, he just wanders off, leaving me with a chill that has nothing to do with the ocean breeze. Suddenly I’m aware of everything around me—the breeze lifting the hairs on my arms, the roll of the deck at anchor. The laughter sounds too loud. People dancing appear loose and uncoordinated like puppets on a string. I tip back my head to see Linc on the upper deck shouting lyrics into the night sky, his entourage cheering like disciples. It’s as if the party is slipping into something dangerous. As I set my drink down, the glass topples, spilling bright liquid across the deck. I blink at it, confused by how slow my reactions are. People walk by me and their smiles are hideous grins. Suddenly I need to lie down, and I fall sideways onto the padded bench. The waterproof fabric is stiff against my cheek. The world tilts and spins and then everything goes black.

Seconds or maybe hours have passed in the void but searing pain splits my head as bright light forces its way under my eyelashes. Something hard presses against my palm and an awful metallic smell creeps up my nostrils. I open my eyes and a shaft of sunlight blinds me. I try to roll away but my shirt sticks, making a sucking sound as I move. I stare at my hand and the blood dripping down my arm from a blade clutched in my palm. Horrified, I drop it and hear it spin across the deck. I blink rapidly, trying to gain my senses. The sun is just peeking over the horizon, sending laser beams of light over me. I gasp. Blood soaks my shirt and forms a sticky pool around me. I hear footsteps and blink into the dawn.

“Alani.” Lucas is beside me checking me over. “Are you hurt?”

I’m trembling and cold, so cold. “No, I don’t think so.” I try to focus on his face. “I woke up with a knife in my hand. What have I done?” The fear something triggered my psychopathic side sends my heart racing so fast I can’t breathe. I stare at the blood covering my hands. “If I’ve stabbed someone, I don’t remember doing it. You have to believe me. I can’t remember anything after spilling my drink.”

“Calm down. You didn’t kill anyone. There’s no dead body and I haven’t heard about anyone being injured. Maybe someone is pranking you and has thrown fake blood all over you.” He stands and kicks the knife over the edge and into the sea. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.” He gives me a little shake. “What happens on the yacht stays on the yacht. This never happened, right? It’s our little secret.”

I look at him. He is so calm and in control, as if he finds blood-soaked women clutching knives all the time. “Lucas, why are you helping me? What if I’ve killed someone?”

“I doubt it. Look, I often get blamed for things I haven’t done and I know what it feels like.” He meets my gaze and a sadness fills his eyes. “This… whatever it is, isn’t your fault. If there is a problem, say you were with me all night. We jumped in the hot tub and stripped off in the early hours then staggered to my cabin. Got it? Stick to the story and everything will be fine.” He helps me to my feet and leads me to the hot tub. “The water is highly chlorinated because of all the people that get in it. It will help remove the blood.” He turns around and grabs a toweling robe from the back of one of the seats. “There’s no one around. The galley staff haven’t even woken yet. Strip off, wash your hair and leave everything in the tub. Make sure you clean under your nails. You can use the robe when you’re done. I’ll clean up the blood and then take you to my cabin.”

I slide into the hot tub fully clothed and watch the water turn red around me. The water bubbles hot and soothing over my cold flesh but tremors wrack my body. Did I kill someone? Panic grips me, and the smell of blood still hangs in my nose. What happened? I can’t remember a thing—it’s like a dark void blocking out reality. I rub at my clothes and then strip, very conscious of Lucas working close by but he isn’t looking at me. He’s using a high-powered stream of water to remove the blood from the highly polished deck. He then empties a bottle of chlorine over the deck and waits for a time before hosing it away. I hurry to clean myself, washing my hair and checking my nails. I’m self-conscious as I climb out but his back is to me. I pull on the robe and walk to his side.

“I found your purse and shoes over there.” He points to a deckchair. “Grab me a robe. They’re on the shelf over there.” He points behind him. “I’ll jump into the hot tub. They’ll find our clothes in there.”

I stare at him. “Who will?”

“If someone is missing, the cops will be all over it.” He jumps into the tub and sinks below the steaming water.

By the time I find a robe, Lucas is out dripping on the deck thankfully wearing underwear. I hand him the robe. He nods and then empties two full bottles of chlorine into the hot tub and tosses the containers overboard. “Why did you do that?”

“It will bleach the blood from your clothes and any spots on mine.” Lucas shrugs and wraps the robe around him. “Come on, you can take a shower in my cabin. I’ll find you something to wear.” He gives me a long searching look. “We need to move fast, Alani. Everyone on this yacht has a phone and if they’ve seen us, our faces will be all over the news before we dock.”

THIRTY-SIX

“Are you drinking the water I gave you?” Lucas’ voice comes through the bathroom door. “It’s likely you drank a spiked drink if you can’t remember anything. You’re probably dehydrated.”

I wrap a towel around my hair and then sip the bottled water. “Why would anyone do that?”

“It’s a rough crowd, things happen.” Lucas clears his throat. “When you’re done, I have a hair dryer out here, deodorant, moisturizer and anything else you might need. Once I’ve had a shower we’ll head down to the galley. I put on a pot of coffee before I came to look for you. I checked your cabin last night—just to make sure you were okay. When it was empty, I figured you’d met someone.”

I open the bathroom door and step outside. “No, I didn’t meet anyone and I crashed where you found me the moment I had that second drink. I still feel dizzy.”

“You’ll be fine.” He slips by me, carrying an arm full of clothes. “The coffee will help and maybe some Tylenol. I’ve left a pile of clothes on the bed for you. They belong to Mia but she won’t notice them missing. Her drawers are stuffed full. The T-shirt is mine but you can keep it. I have a ton of them.”

I tighten the towel wrapped around me. “Did she give them to you?”

“Nah.” He chuckles. “She’ll be dead to the world until we dock. I just went into her cabin and helped myself. She’s about your size but you only need to make it from here to the house and you can get changed.” He shuts the door.

Soon I hear the water running and his rich and melodious voice coming through the door. I take my time looking around the room. I always had the impression cabins on boats were tiny little places—not so. A king-size bed dominates the room, and I see an ocean view through the porthole. There are closets, a chest of drawers, a refrigerator containing bottled water. Two guitars in cases are hung on the wall alongside a framed concert poster. On the bed I find a pair of undies, black yoga pants and a Blood Orchid band T-shirt. I dress quickly and stare at myself in the mirror. The shirt comes down to my knees.

There’s a chair in front of a dressing table with a mirror. Neatly stacked on shelves behind glass doors sit an assortment of toiletries. I open a drawer to find hairbrushes, which all look brand new, alongside a hair dryer. I make good use of the toiletries, and after reading the brands on most of the moisturizers, I now know why everyone in the house has amazing skin. I’m drying my hair when Lucas emerges from the bathroom fully dressed with damp hair hanging loose about his shoulders.

He leans over me to grab a hairbrush. I notice he is clean shaven and the scent of his aftershave dominates the room. I offer him the hair dryer. “I’m done.” I look at his reflection as he brushes his hair. “I had a white jacket with me when I arrived. I’ll need to look for it.”

“We have staff to clean the mess. I’ll make sure I ask them to look out for it.” Lucas turns on the hair dryer and I watch him dry his hair.

I recall the faces of the women looking at him with adoration as he played and glance at my own reflection but my expression isn’t one of wonder. Perhaps it’s because I’ve mixed with many famous people in my life, and to me they’re just people. No one overly affects me and I can’t recall ever having a crush on anyone. My stomach drops as the information I read on serial killers slams into my brain—they have no empathy. They get angry but they don’t experience love like normal people. I stare at my hands, seeing the thick sticky blood. I’m shaking. Deep down inside I know something bad has happened.