Perfect Lies by Kiersten White Read Free Book Online Page A

because I like Pixie and worry what will happen to her, or if I’m delaying because I’m worried about whatever job his father would have for me next. But I’ll have to decide soon. Decide what to do with Pixie. Pick her fate. I reach out and brush her bangs out of her eyes.
    She doesn’t look up. “Did you figure out who was watching you?” she asks, slowly tearing strips through the glowingly photoshopped face of some pop star.
    “Hmm?” I jump off the desk and walk to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. I can see the green beacon of Central Park from here. It’d be nice to be down there today. But I need to be here. Why? I can’t do anything right now. I feel like I need to be here, though.
    “Last night, before you left with James. Remember? At the club?”
    I shrug. “No idea.” I hadn’t even thought about it. Last night James held me and we laughed, and we dared to talk about a plan, our plan, and a future without all this. Whatever was happening at the club is yet another thing on my endless list of things to worry about or not worry about. I opt not to worry. Why worry about something as stupid as that? If I have to confront it, I will. And I’ll win.
    Tap tap tap tap. I win.
    “You want to do something tonight? Or do you have plans with Peachy Keane?”
    James would hate that nickname. I’ll have to use it. I feel a little better today. More patient. I roll my eyes, the word sticking in my head like one of my taps. Awful word.
    The main office door opens and a woman walks in. “Afternoon,” she says, her voice low and sleepy.
    Pixie pops her gum loudly, then pushes a button under her desk that opens the door to the hall. The woman goes straight back.
    “We should see a movie. Movies are quiet. People don’t think much during them.” Pixie’s voice buzzes at me, but I can’t quite focus on it.
    Something.
    Something.
    Something.
    Something is wrong. Very wrong. SO WRONG.
    I whirl around just in time to see the door close behind the woman. “What was she thinking?”
    Pixie sees my expression and frowns. “I don’t know, paperwork deadlines. Her thoughts are never interesting.”
    “Let me back.”
    “Fia, I can’t—”
    I jump over the desk, knock her down, and push the button. The doors click unlocked and I throw them open, sprint through. A guard stands up from his chair and sputters something, blocking my way. I punch him in the neck and keep going.
    Around the corner. Everything is buzzing, every internal alarm ringing, I feel sick and I feel tight and coiled like a spring. I see the back of the woman as she opens a plain door and walks in.
    Wrong.
    “You can’t be back here,” a man says, roughly grabbing my elbow. I put a foot against the wall and use it for leverage, shoving myself into him. He’s off-balance. I drop to the floor and sweep his legs, knocking him down.
    Can’t stop. Can’t wait.
    More footsteps pounding behind me but I don’t care, I throw myself at the door, slam through.
    Everything is fuzzy, the room out of focus except the woman. Her back is to me but she is in sharp relief, every line clear, every instinct in my body tuned in to her.
    Stop stop stop stop her, I have to stop her! I lower my shoulder and run straight forward, slamming her head into the edge of a table with a resounding crack. She collapses on the floor and I pin her arm behind her back.
    My heart races, but everything else starts to calm, the rush in my ears fading and my vision going back to normal. She looks small and fragile there on the carpet, wearing a white blouse and charcoal dress slacks. Her hair is still perfectly set in a bun at the base of her neck and I—
    Oh, no, please no, please no no I didn’t mean to I didn’t want to—
    I see her chest move and I lean back, exhaling with relief. She’s not dead.
    I’m grabbed roughly from behind. Elbow to the nose, turn, knee to the crotch, I am a fury of fists and knees and elbows, but there are a lot of them. I don’t know