The Lies That Define Us Part 32

I ended up staying at the beach for several hours and left when I grew hungry.

Instead of going back to Rebecca's for dinner, I stopped at a restaurant a few miles away. I figured since it was my last day-and now night-in Malibu, I was allowed to splurge a little bit.

After I finished eating, I headed to the nearest Western Union to transfer the money to the landlord in order to secure my apartment.

From there, I wandered the streets some more.

A large part of me didn't want to go back to Rebecca's because once I did, it symbolized the finality of what I was doing.

I jumped in surprise when the phone in my pocket beeped.

It was a cheap, old phone of Rebecca's that she'd insisted I use since I didn't have one. Since nothing could be tied back to me, I'd accepted it.

I grabbed the phone and squinted down that the text message s.h.i.+ning on the screen.

Rebecca: SOS! Darren needs u 2 come in. Emergency.

I stared down questioningly at the text and then called her. I was sent straight to voicemail.

I figured she was too busy to answer, and we weren't even supposed to be on our personal phones at work.

Since Mo's was on the opposite end of town, I caught a cab and had it take me over. It cost me way more than I should've been spending-especially since I'd already spent so much-but if they were swamped I knew I'd more than make it back.

But when the cab stopped outside the restaurant I was shocked to find the sign hanging on the door turned to CLOSED and all the lights off, which was odd since most nights Mo's was open until midnight.

I glanced down at the phone again, making sure I hadn't misread the message.

But the words were still exactly the same.

With a sudden bout of clarity, I realized what she was up to. She was trying to force me to talk to Liam. I knew I should have had the driver take me back to her apartment instead, but I selfishly wanted one last glimpse of him.

I paid the driver and stepped out of the car. He sped off, leaving me alone in the darkened parking lot.

There were a few cars parked around, but none I recognized.

I glanced up at the sign above the door with the restaurant name. Instead of an O in Mo's, there was a smiling multi-colored monkey. I always found it to be cheery and quite funny, but something about it today seemed ominous.

Dismissing my paranoia, I opened the door and stepped into the restaurant. The chime above the door signaled my arrival, and I blinked several times, trying to let my eyes adjust to complete darkness.

I took a few steps, squinting as I tried to see.

After a few steps, my foot hit something solid where I couldn't remember there being anything on the floor.

I looked down and after a few seconds I was horrified by what I saw.

A body lay on the floor with blood pooling beneath the torso.

"Oh G.o.d," I choked, my hand flying to my mouth. "Talia," I breathed. "No."

I bent down, touching my hands to her clammy cheeks. "Talia," I begged, "please. Open your eyes. Please." Tears began to course down my cheeks and panic seized my body. There was only one person who could've done this. "Talia, can you hear me? If you can hear me, focus on my voice, please listen to me." I smoothed her hair off her forehead and searched for a pulse with my other hand.

"She's dead. They're all dead," spoke a chilly voice from the shadows.

I stood upright so fast I felt lightheaded. "What have you done?" I spat in the general direction of the voice.

"Only what had to be done, my dear." His voice was cold and smooth like an alcoholic beverage. He was just as bitter, too.

"What do you want from me?" I cried, backing toward the door.

"Your loyalty." His tone was still as calm as ever. Blaise rarely ever raised his voice. I heard him say once that calm was more frightening than anger, because calmness shows a lack of care or emotion. In other words, an angry person can be persuaded, but a calm one already knows their mind.

"Why?" I sobbed. "Why me?"

"You know why."

I shook my head. "I'm not your property."

"But you are."

I eased closer to the door, but when I was about to make a run for it, two large hands clamped around my arms and held me prisoner.

"Not so fast, Scarlett."

"My name's not Scarlett," I shouted, tears drenching my face. "And I don't belong to you."

The hands dragged me back into the room where I found myself shoved roughly into a chair.

"Thank you, Felix," Blaise addressed the man that had forced me into the chair. "Look around you, Scarlett, what do you see?" Blaise spoke to me again from whatever shadow he hid like the f.u.c.king leech that he was.

I kept my head stubbornly turned in that direction.

"I'll make it a bit easier for you. Raymond, turn on a light."

When the light filtered into the room, I saw that I was facing the bar. Talia's body lay to my left a few feet away-unmoving.

But across from me?

There was more.

Complete and utter carnage.

"No," I shook my head. "No. This isn't real."

"It's very real, Scarlett-there's a reason I gave you that name, you know," he mused. "It's because I always knew that it would come to this. You'd need to see the world painted in red before your mind could be tamed. Before you'd truly be one of us."

"I'm nothing like you," I cried, staring at the body of the man slumped on the bar. There was a bullet hole in his forehead, going straight out the back, execution style.

"Maybe not at first," he mused from whatever hole he hid in, "but anyone can be made into a monster. Even you, Scarlett. Even. You."

"Stop calling me that," I begged uselessly.

"Why? Because you secretly like it? Because that name suits you more than the name your spineless parents gave you?"

"You have no right to talk about them. None."

"Don't I?" He chuckled, like the conversation was amusing. "They're the reason you're here after all. Or, at least, your father is."

"No," I shook my head, "you're the reason I'm here."

He made a tsking sound. "Such fire; I admire that in you, and that's why I've decided you won't be marrying my son."

"What?" My brows furrowed in confusion.

"You'll be marrying me instead."

Blaise finally emerged from the shadows then. He was a man of average height, but wide shoulders, and muscular for this age. His eyes were a dark, lifeless brown, more closely resembling the color of dirt. He wore a custom-tailored suit in black and beneath it even his s.h.i.+rt and tie were black. I'd never seen him wear any other color before.

I looked him up and down with a glare on my face. "If you think I'm marrying you, you're sicker than I've always believed."

"Chair, Raymond." He motioned with his hand and the man quickly grabbed him one of the dining chairs to sit in across from me. Settling into it, he balanced his one foot on his knee and leaned back, completely relaxed despite the carnage around him.

"I know you'll do it, Scarlett. You know I'll do anything to get what I want. I killed your pretty friend over there, didn't I?" He pointed in the direction of Talia's body lying on the floor. "And your other friend, Rebecca I think her name is? The one that was so kind to let you stay with her? You know who I'm talking about." He grinned s.a.d.i.s.tically when my facial expression didn't change, but his eyes fell to my neck and zeroed in; I was sure it was obvious how fast my heart was beating. "She put up a fight, that one. Scratched Felix in the face." Leaning forward, his lips arched into what one might a.s.sume was a smile, but it looked more like a grimace to me. "I let Felix f.u.c.k her before he killed her because of that. My men don't deserve to be treated so poorly, so they might as well get something out of it."

I held my breath, trying to contain the sob that wanted to break free.

Rebecca. Oh, Rebecca. What have I done? This is all my fault.

I tried my best to hide my fear and anger, but Blaise always saw straight through everyone.

"You're afraid," he mused, touching his finger to his lips. "You try to pretend that you aren't, but you are. I know you, Scarlett. I know you better than anyone else does."

"You don't know me at all," I countered.

His lips twitched. "Is that so?"

He stood from the chair and walked around me, like he was evaluating me. "You think you're so much better than me, that you're good, but that's not true. Everyone has darkness inside them." He stopped behind me and lowered, touching his cold fingers to my cheek.

My natural reaction was to flinch, but I held my head high and didn't move. I refused to give him the satisfaction.

"I'll tell you what makes us different." He circled back around to stand in front of me. "You have a weakness and I don't."

I stared up at him unflinchingly.

"Raymond?" he prompted, tilting his head to the side. "Bring our guest in. I think Scarlett is going to need a bit more persuasion to see things my way. I knew she would." He winked at me.

I'd never known the lowering of an eyelid could seem so menacing, but on Blaise, it was downright chilling.

"Felix," he spoke to the man behind me, "restrain her."

"h.e.l.l no." I jerked upright out of the chair. I hadn't been standing more than a second when a fist slammed into the side of my face, and I crumpled to the ground. The breath had been knocked out of my lungs and my cheek throbbed painfully. Pressing my hands to the floor, I spat out a wad of blood. A large hand closed around my arm and yanked me up so fast that I screamed when it felt like my shoulder had been torn from the socket.

"Ari? Ari."

I was shoved down onto the chair and saw Liam being dragged into the room by Raymond. My arms were jerked behind me and my hands bound by a thin, coa.r.s.e rope. Felix tied it so tight that my I could feel my fingers beginning to go numb.

"Are you okay?" Liam asked me as he was pushed into the chair across from me.

There was a large bruise spreading over the left side of his face and bruises on his arms from fighting back, but other than that, he looked okay, which allowed me to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief.

I nodded. "I'm okay," I squeaked. "You?"

"Well, isn't this exchange sweet." Blaise chuckled, and even his laugh sounded like ice falling from the side of a building. Standing between us, Blaise clasped his hands together, positioned in front of his stomach. I knew it to be his "non-threatening" stance. "Chair," he demanded again and Raymond quickly slid one over to him.

Blaise sat down in the chair so that the three of us formed a triangle with him at the head.

"My sweet, sweet Scarlett, I'm going to tell you a story. Now listen close, I want you to understand." I swallowed thickly and stared straight ahead at Liam. "I want you to listen too." I saw him swing his gaze toward Liam. "In fact, I think I'll start at the very beginning so you'll understand her better."

I lifted my head to the ceiling and tears leaked out of the corner of my eyes.

Please, I begged, let us get out of here alive. Please. Liam doesn't deserve this. If someone has to die, let it be me.

"I know Scarlett's told you she was 'kidnapped' but that's not true."

I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly.

"She was traded."

"Traded?" I heard Liam speak in a surprised tone. "What the f.u.c.k does that mean?"

I lowered my head and rolled my shoulders, trying to get some feeling into my slowly dying limbs.

"I'm a very powerful man, Mr. Wade. Lots of people owe me, and when they don't pay up, I come to collect. Be it a car, or a house, or whatever I deem worthy enough to fill the debt. In Scarlett's case, her father owed me a lot of money, and his time was up. When I came to collect and he couldn't pay up, I decided I wanted her," he pointed at me, "and I always get what I want."

Liam stared at me questioningly, and I closed my eyes, unable to look at him.

"So her father and I made a trade. I got Scarlett, and he got to walk away debt free. Now, of course, we had to make it look like she was kidnapped for the benefit of her mother. That was part of our agreement, that her mother never know the truth of what her father had done."

More tears came.

I hadn't known that.

Oh G.o.d.

"You're lying!" I spat.

Blaise's dark eyes swung to me. "Why would I lie? I have nothing to lose."

"You're lying," I said again, but my tone was a little more doubtful this time. "My dad was a teacher. He was a good man."