Read Red Ridge Pack 1 Pack of Lies Online
Authors: Sara Dailey,Staci Weber
Tags: #FICTION / Romance / Paranormal, #FICTION / Romance / General, #FIC027000
PACK OF LIES
Book One of the Red Ridge Pack
by Sara Dailey and Staci Weber
www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.
PACK OF LIES
Copyright ©
Sara Dailey and Staci Weber
2012
All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.
ISBN: 978-0-9848988-6-2
Digital edition by GoPublished
www.gopublished.com
To our friends and family; you know who you are.
You are my hunger
Bellowing from the deepest part of me
A forsaken howling, cracked and twisted
Wrapping me in rambling delight
To be without you, shall remove me completely
Laying me down in the shadow of yesterday’s dusk
Blanketing this blooming instant, my craving locked in dusty arms
Leaving my vessel dripping in tears, my heart the faintest murmur
Wandering between exile and infinity, this professed crooked love
By Jordan Mantell
Table of Contents
PART II
Allison, Kendall, and Cade
PART I
Allison’s Story
Chapter 1
ALLISON
“I said break it up, ladies!”
Principal Murphy’s voice barely registered before someone grabbed me and pulled me away from the little bobble-head who was still swinging. With my vision still narrowed and my fists clenched, I tried to regain some sense of self-control as I shook off Coach Cole’s grip on my arm. Coach gave me a sympathetic look and warned, “Not again, Alli! When are you going to learn?”
Glaring back and forth between us both, Principal Murphy ordered, “Miss Hades, my office, now! And Miss Wright… well, just go see the counselor again. I will get to you later.”
I could still hear the principal griping at Tiffany as he led her toward the front office. This was not my fault this time. The wench had it coming.
I had barely taken a step inside the counselor’s office before she laid into me. “Sit down, Miss Wright. Listen, I know you don’t want to be here; no one wants to be here, but it’s either me or Officer Daniels and trust me, you’re better off talking to me,” declared Mrs. Parker, the very young, very inexperienced guidance counselor at South Shore High School.
Definitely preferring to deal with this little pixy-stick rather than the school police officer—affectionately nicknamed Zero by the student body for his zero tolerance policy—I sat, but not because I was scared, only because I hoped she might go easy on me if I played nice. This wasn’t my first visit.
As I watched Mrs. Parker open my file, adjust her reading glasses, and clear her throat; I found myself wondering when my file became so big that it needed to be held with both hands. I’m really not a bad kid. Seriously. It was just that lately trouble seemed to be following me around.
Parker sat back in her chair and huffed as she heaved my file onto her desk. As my multitude of office referrals spread across the desk and onto the floor, she said, “Really Allison, three major fights this semester already? It’s barely October. What on earth is going on with you?”
There it was. The million dollar question. I took a moment, just to make her think that I was thinking about
what on earth was going on with me
. I think it’s safe to say that there was a lot going on with me, but surely she didn’t think I was going to sit here and spill my guts to a guidance counselor, for Christ’s sake.
How pathetic does she think I am?
I counted slowly to ten in my head before I responded, “Nothing, I’m fine,” and went back to picking at my nails. What exactly did she expect me to say? I could have said a hell of a lot. Like that every girl in this school suddenly seems to have a problem with me. That I can’t go anywhere without them giving me dirty looks or making crude comments. And then there’s my favorite. Apparently, I’m out to steal anyone’s boyfriend that I come across, and therefore, I must be a slut.
What is with girls and the word “slut” anyway? Knowing I haven’t had much experience with the opposite sex, I should just let it roll off my back, right? But slut is like the worst thing a girl can call another girl. And for some reason, the entire female body at South Shore High seems to be in agreement that I am, in fact, a complete and utter slut.
I wasn’t going to tell Mrs. Parker what it had really been like for me for the past two months. She could just sit there, take her little notes, and pass my file on to the principal so that he could give me yet another consequence that I didn’t deserve.
Parker looked at me over the top of her too-trendy reading glasses and admonished, “Look, Allison, you’re going to have to do better than that. You are well on your way to the alternative high school, and the only reason you aren’t there already is because you don’t seem to be the instigator in all of this nonsense. But there has to be some reason why you were involved in three major fights, and who knows how many other minor altercations that weren’t reported.”
That did it. There was no way I was going to listen to her put this all on me. Yeah, I had planned to just sit there and listen to her “advice,” but now she was acting like this was all my fault. So instead, like usual as of lately, I stood up, looked down on the pixy, and snapped, “Look, I don’t know why, okay. I don’t know why all of a sudden every girl in this school hates me. I don’t know why guys that I have never even glanced at think that they can grab my ass in the hallway. I don’t understand how people who I have been friends with for years don’t want to talk to me or be seen with me in the cafeteria anymore. I have lost everyone, my best friend, my boyfriend, even the girls I have been friends with since elementary school. And I don’t know why. Why don’t you tell me? You tell me Mrs. Parker, you’re the expert, right? Tell me why I don’t have a single friend anymore except my brother.”
I had no idea why or when it started, but tears were rolling down my face, and I was yelling at this poor lady who looked as shocked by my outburst as I was. So much for playing it cool. Now, I felt like I needed to apologize for putting that expression on her face. It’s not really her fault that everything was so screwed up.
I took a deep breath, sat back down, and calmly said, “I’m sorry Mrs. Parker. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. It’s just so frustrating. Everything is just kind of falling apart and I don’t know what to do.”
Mrs. Parker handed me a tissue and walked around her desk to sit in the seat next to me. She took off her glasses and said, “Honey… it’s okay. And if you don’t mind me being brutally honest, I
will
tell you why you have no friends, girlfriends at least.”
Seriously? Wiping my mascara-smeared eyes, I nodded my head ready for her to enlighten me.
“Now, listen closely ’cause this is a life lesson,” she said scooting a little closer to me.
“Are you listening?” She paused to make sure I was paying close attention. “Females can be catty, conniving, evil bitches. And for the most part, we don’t like women who are better looking than we are,” she admitted in hushed tones, as if someone nearby might hear.
I couldn’t help but smile a little at Mrs. Parker, the sweet little guidance counselor saying “bitches.”
“You may not have noticed or maybe you have, but you are certainly not the same young woman you were last year. You have changed, and even I have noticed the attention—good and bad—that you are getting because of it.”
This lady can’t be serious
. “I’m sorry Mrs. Parker, but I don’t buy it. My brother and I look just alike, and he has more friends than he can count. Nobody hates him, or spreads rumors about him, or starts fights with him. He’s like Mr. Popularity around here.”