Read Online The Betrayal of Natalie Hargrove by Lauren Kate - Free Book Online Page B

tried to imagine the tone of voice J.B.’s mother might take when she caught him doing something against her strangely lenient rules. Most of the week, Mrs. Balmer was probably too focused on counting the money in her boob-job piggy bank to give much thought to what her children did, but she always did drag her boys to church on Sundays. There was nothing more gauche than being seen at the pews without the arm candy you’d spawned.
    “Well, Justin-honey,” I said, channeling his mother’s thick molasses drawl, “I think you got some sins that need atonin’ for. What better place is there than the house of God?”
    “Nat,” Mike warned.
    “I’m just screwing with him,” I laughed. “Trust me, he won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”
    Mike pulled into a spot near the chapel and turned off the car. We got out and opened the door to the backseat.
    “Heave ho,” Mike said, and we lifted J.B. up again and carried him to the lawn.
    “Let’s park him where they set up the nativity scene around Christmas,” I said. “He’ll look just like a little baby Jesus.”
    “No,” J.B. whined, still sounding really loopy. “Mom, I can’t go to church dressed like this. I look like Grandma with a hangover.”
    By then, Mike was laughing so hard he could hardly carry his end of the load, but I held onto J.B.’s fishnet-covered ankles and was struck by a brilliant beyond brilliant idea.
    He was half-comatose and still totally consumed by the thought of his reputation being on the line because of his slutty costume choice.
    Now whose fault was that?
    I looked at the lipstick, and the feather boa, and the one patent-leather high heel he still had on. And suddenly, I saw them all in a whole new light. Sunlight. It rose pretty early Sunday mornings in the Bible Belt. And everyone who was anyone went to church—including certain Palmetto Court ballot counters. Tracy had said some of them were already questioning J.B.’s candidacy for Prince. And Baxter had said J.B. was asking to get punked showing up at the party dressed in drag.
    “Mike,” I said slowly and quietly, “how funny would it be to leave him here?”
    “Uh, not very,” Mike said, finally done laughing.
    “Think about it.” I sank to the ground beside him and started running my fingers through his hair. “Perfect little Justin Balmer, exposed as a cross dresser?”
    Mike looked unconvinced.
    “Come on,” I coaxed. “We haven’t pulled one of our pranks in so long. He’ll probably wake up when the pastor gets here first thing in the morning, anyway. He’ll just have to hitch home in those clothes, that’s all.”
    “But . . .” Mike started to protest as I kissed along his jawline. “Well, he does live all the way out in West Palmetto,” he said.
    “Exactly,” I said, feeling the momentum build behind my plan. “And do you really want to drive that far when you’ve been drinking?”
    Mike shrugged and gave me the smallest twitch of a smile. I had him. I knew it.
    “I guess it’d be sort of funny. As long as we leave him the water and make sure he has our numbers in his phone.”
    “Totally,” I agreed. “We wouldn’t want to take it too far.” I looked over to make sure J.B. was still out. Check.
    Back in the car, I grabbed the water bottle and reached into my bag for my lipstick. It wasn’t quite as flashy as the color J.B. had been wearing earlier, but I figured it was the least I could do to freshen up his face before we ditched him.
    The car was humming. Mike turned around from the driver’s seat.
    “Babe, I’m getting freaked out,” he said. “Hanging out alone, drunk, at church. It’s spooky. Hurry up, okay? I’ll pull the car around.”
    “Sure.” I nodded, all sympathetic girlfriend. “Be right back.”
    I was about to shut the door when something else caught my eye. It was a reel of the woven white rope that the Kings used to keep their boats tied up at the marina. Hmm, I didn’t see why it couldn’t be used to