➳ 𝐇𝐄 '𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

⊰ 𝟟 ⊱

'HEY TROUBLE'

Would Lyle use me? No, Lyle wouldn't use me, would he? I let the question wrap around my head like a bandage, not only consuming me entirely but also blinding me. You hardly know the asshole, my subconscious snarls at me evidently, and I frown.

Tate's words had been playing over and over in my head like a broken record. I know it's just some ridiculous thing your brain does to try and soothe yourself, but it wasn't working. If anything, it was giving me a headache. I roll down the window in hopes some fresh air will drown out my thoughts, and instead, the voice inside my head becomes louder, trying to regurgitate the thoughts I had been trying to swallow down the past few minutes - Did I like Lyle or just the attention he gave me. It's been a whole week, and I have feelings for someone I hardly know.

Shit.

I look slyly over at Tate, whose eyes are fixated on the dark road ahead of us. I find myself involuntarily staring at the side of his face, searching for just a glimpse of the truth behind his accusation. Maybe he was telling the truth. He's Lyle's brother. He'd know him better than anyone, Maybe even better than Tyler.

No, Tate's just as much of a walking red flag as Lyle is. Even if he's not lying, there's a catch. He's like a spider, spinning me in a tangled web of ulterior motives. I have to stop being so naive. Tate's a liar, Lyle's a liar, It's a one VS one, and I'm sitting on the sideline observing rather than participating in the winning team, which as of right now, is none.

What do I do?

You play them at their own game. My inner voice is rolling her eyes at me.

"Maybe you're right," I'm fidgeting with my hands nervously, "Maybe Lyle is using me." The words slip out smooth and easy, like butter, and they spread across my face just as believable as they were said.

Perhaps If I play along, I might actually get to the bottom of this.

Tate's blue eyes are suddenly searching mine - for what? a lie? The truth? He's glaring at me as if he's trying to pick apart my words, trying to understand them, choosing the correct response.

"Lyle's not a bad guy. he just has a shitty way of getting back at people who did him dirty, like your brother Tyler." I gaze at him, trying to understand the implication of his words. this is not what I expected.

I can feel his eyes on me, his words are sharp, and I can't help but retaliate, "Tyler? what does Tyler have to do with this?" He is definitely bullshiting at this point. Lyle is Tyler's best friend. He wouldn't do that.

Tate's glaring at me with a hesitant look. His eyes are piercing into mine, chilling me with every second they dance across my face. "Everything. They were in Miami a few months back for spring break-" Tate stops, eyes focused hard, and I can tell it's not on the road, it's on his words.

What's he thinking? I shrug through a creased brow, "So?"

Tate's gone mute. His jaw is tightened, and his body is tense. What the hell is happening here? He's starting to scare the hell out of me. Has he said too much? What could possibly be that bad that Tate, of all people, has gone silent.

"Tate?" I press him for an answer.

Nothing.

I groan, tucking my hair behind my ears in annoyance. This is ridiculous - I'm beginning to become frustrated with myself, frustrated I'm so invested in this most likely made-up story of Tate's and frustrated I'm sitting in this car alone with him. I can't think straight around either of the Carver brother's nor can I trust them.

Tate's low husky voice pulls me from my thoughts, "Lyle has a sister, and while they were in Miami together, Lyle found out Tyler was cheating on her with Cora."