INK: Fine Lines (Book 1) by Bella Roccaforte

you’ is always a lie.”
    I shudder and look around the room for the source of the voice. There is nothing but me. I have to get out of here. The crazy is really starting to take hold.
    I slide into my shoes, take a deep breath, and head for the door. All eyes are on me when I enter the great room. I breeze through, making my grand exit.
    “Shayleigh, what are you doing?” Dad’s voice is laced with warning.
    “I’m going home.” I hope the sharpness in my tone cuts all three of them.
    “I would rather you didn’t leave right now. I think you should come home with me.” Dad approaches, peering at me over the glasses resting on his nose.
    Oh hell no. I would rather sleep in the county jail than walk into that shrine to my mother and sister. “No way, I’m not going to that house. I’m going home.”
    Eli rises to his feet in confusion. “Shay, what’s wrong?” I know he’s half expecting me to go off on the collection of empty beer bottles on the table.
    “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s just peachy.” The sarcasm drips from my mouth like sour honey. “I’ve just had quite enough of you lying, controlling, drunk bastards making all of my decisions for me.”
    Aiden is uncharacteristically quiet. He tracks my angry gaze to Eli. He sits down, relieved, to let the scene play out.
    “Honey, no one is lying to you or trying to tell you what to do. We’re all just trying to figure this out so we can help you.” Dad lays on the police-negotiator tone as though I’m some deranged psycho holding a gaggle of nuns hostage in a bank heist.
    “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need you three writing the step-by-step manual to my life.” I grab my backpack. Still in the foyer, I look back at Dad. “Besides, isn’t  he  the enemy here? Won’t  he  be the one in the courtroom making sure that justice is served—cold?” I point my finger accusingly at Eli. That may have been a little dramatic, but warranted.
    The room falls silent, my cue to exit. I’m sure to slam the door with practiced finesse and start for the driveway. That’s when I realize the fatal flaw in my plan. Shit, no car. I think for moment, but I really don’t have much choice. I open the door to find them all still standing quiet and stunned by my first exit.
    Aiden, being the first to realize my folly, plucks his keys off the table, giving Eli a wink. “I’m up.”
    Walking to me with his smarmy swagger, he smiles. “I’ll get you home.”
    How did it come to this? Now I’m getting a ride home from Aiden. I’ll do whatever it takes to get me away from Eli and the river of lies that flow from his gorgeous mouth, even land square in the middle of Aiden’s fantasy land of fallacies. I hold back the sorrow filling me with the memory of the kisses we shared earlier. I try to shake it off.
    Eli walks around Aiden to stand in front of me. “Shay, I’m not sure what has you so upset, but I think we would be better off talking about it rather than you storming out.” He’s trying to talk me down off the ledge. Honestly, he’s not worried about me falling off the ledge. He’s more concerned about what I’ll land on—Aiden’s dick, to be exact. He’s so transparent.
    Eli pleads with me. “I’m not your enemy. Please just stay.” He moves closer, reaching for my hand. I step away from him closer to Aiden. “Please don’t go.”
    “I don’t want to get in the way of you and your stripper, whoever she is.” I gag on the words as they come out. I bite the inside of my lip to keep from bursting into tears. “You really need to look into a twelve-step program to detox from tramps. Call me when you get to step twelve.”
    Aiden lifts his hands in front of himself counting on his fingers. “That would be step nine, dude.” He can’t suppress a victorious smile.
    Eli’s head drops with a loud sigh. “Not that I need an explanation, but I do have one.”
    And there it is folks, the sorry-ass