Savage Lies

SAVAGE LIES A HIGH SCHOOL BULLY ROMANCE HIDDEN VALLEY ELITE BOOK ONE ISLA VAUGHN ARROWSCOPE PRESS, LLC Savage Lies Copyright © 2023 Isla Vaughn All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. (p) ISBN-13: 978-1-951919-41-2 (e) ISBN-13: 978-1-951919-40-5 Publisher: Arrowscope Press, LLC; www.arrowscopepress.com Editing— Kate B., Line Editor, Virge B., Proofreader, Red Adept Editing Cover Design—T.E. Black Designs; www.teblackdesigns.com Interior Formatting & Design— Arrowscope Press, LLC; www.arrowscopepress.com CONTENTS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One About the Author Also by Isla Vaughn CHAPTER ONE RILEY “There’s always an angle. A vulnerability. Find it and exploit it.” Words I lived by my entire life. Words handed down from mom and my uncle Ronan. Mom was always five steps ahead of everyone else. I wasn’t far behind, but there was room for improvement. Surrounded by boxes, I stood in the middle of the large space that would be my new bedroom for however long we would be there. The early morning sun sliced through the partially open blinds. Out of all the dumps we’d stayed in, it was decent. Much better than where we stayed on our last, very short visit to Santa Monica, California. We’d stayed long enough for me to crash a beach party, get caught stealing, then have an incredibly hot guy steal a kiss that shattered my world before all hell broke loose, as usual, and we had to leave in a panic-inducing rush. I didn’t know why we were back a year later. We never went to the same place twice. It was driving me crazy, and Mom was tight-lipped about it, which wasn’t normal. Pain shot through my jaw, and I instinctively relaxed the clench of my teeth. It was the start of a new day in a town where I would have to go to yet another school. The first day was the worst. I glanced at my clock and groaned. I had an hour to get ready. Coffee. It was the only way I would survive. I took half a step toward the door when an aggressive, heavy-handed knock sounded. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. Mom didn’t rap with her knuckles like that. “Open up, kid. I’ve got donuts.” Uncle Ronan. My shoulders relaxed, and I hurried to the door and curled my fingers around the knob before fully opening it. At the sight of his big frame in the doorway, I scowled, a flash of annoyance ripping through me, despite how good it was to see him. “What, is it Christmas already?” I propped a hand on my hip and glared. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d visited wherever we were. He snorted. “Same fuck-the-world attitude as my sister.” After a glance around the room and at the half-unpacked boxes, he shoved a small white bag in my hands. “Donuts.” I scowled harder, holding out my other hand for the coffee clutched in his mammoth fist. His deep laugh filled the room, and I reluctantly softened… but not until he gave me the drink. “This isn’t my first drive-by, brat. I’ve dealt with your mom for most of my life.” He handed over the coffee. “I know how to soothe the beast.” He buried his hand in the rat’s nest on my head then pulled me in for a hug. It lasted longer than usual, and I snorted at the reason why. “Your hand’s stuck, isn’t it?” I set the bag down on one of the boxes I hadn’t opened yet and helped him untangle himself from my long and messy hair. Why is he here? I needed to talk to Mom. She was one of the most strategic, intelligent, and cunning people I knew, and I couldn’t help but think she called him, the only other family I was allowed to associate with, to check on me for a reason. My grandparents and the sperm donor, as my mom referred to my father, were off-limits. I chugged more than half the coffee then felt capable of facing whatever this was with my uncle. “Why are you here?” Dark eyebrows rose. “Is that all you have to say after I brought you breakfast?” I dropped onto my bed, shoved back farther so my back was against the headboard, then crossed my legs at the ankles and observed him. His dark-brown hair, the same shade as mine and Mom’s, was longer than usual, and there was more than a five o’clock shadow covering his face. He wore black jeans and a Henley, even though it was the end of summer and hot. Alarm bells blared in my head. “What’s going on?” Are we on the run? We often moved to stay ahead of any threats from past cons. Has one of Mom’s marks found us? Or worse—Dad? “Where’s Mom?” “She’s out of town with her boyfriend. You’re on your own to get to school for your first day. It’s some swanky place that’s supposed to help