Page 27 of Tied

Chapter 13

Riley

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. None of it makes any sense. My fingers clench around the duvet protectively, trying to hold onto anything that may provide me with even an ounce of safety. It’s an illusion, of course.

Just like him.

It seems that nothing about him was real, not even his name. And he considers it a good idea to unveil all of his lies with a request for my help? He cannot be serious.

“What happened to your parents?” I ask him the question without making eye contact. My voice is monotone, hollow, lacking any emotion to betray the turmoil brewing inside me.

I honestly don’t know where to start, so this question is as good as any other.

Cain clears his throat and shifts uneasily on the mattress next to me. His demeanor leads me to believe that he is about to speak of something painful, something from the past that’s been haunting him for years.

Or perhaps he is about to tell me another lie.

“They were killed,” he simply says, and the tone of his voice is so heavy that I want to believe him.

“By the man you want me to... seduce?”

I look up at him then, trying to lock eyes so I can search for the truth in his. But he evades my gaze and looks right past me. The expression on his face is sad and he seems to be absent, lost in thought.

“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “It was a long time ago, and this man had nothing to do with it. It was the organization he’s working for. They killed them.”

“What organization is that?”

“The Covey,” he growls, deep-seated hate lacing his words. A shadow comes over his face and I see him clenching his fists in anguish. “The fucking Covey, a crime syndicate with close relations to the New England Mafia families. My father made the mistake of getting involved with them. It cost him his wife and, later on, his own life.”

Despite everything, my heart aches for Cain when I look at him now. It’s apparent that he’s not lying about this. His pain is so palpable that I can feel it clenching in my gut, clutching at my heart with urgency.

He never mentioned his parents when I knew him before, or anything about his background, his family, his past for that matter. I didn’t think much of it because, despite our intense play, the connection we shared was only superficial—or so I kept telling myself.

“I’m... so sorry.”

My words don’t sound sincere, but they are. Still, I feel silly for saying them, considering that it doesn’t change the fact that Cain kidnapped me. He lured me with a fake job offer under a false identity, he had me grabbed off the street by two disgusting thugs, and—worst of all—he humiliated me and had me manhandled and locked up by them. Naked. He took away my dignity and scared me to death.

The pity in my heart shifts to fury as I recall the reality of my situation, and the expression on my face hardens.

Is he playing me again? Is he trying to get my sympathy with that sob story about his parents?

Is what he’s telling me really true?

I’m not so sure anymore. The doubt doesn’t creep in slowly—it pops up with a bang, quickly casting aside any empathy that I may have felt just a few moments before.

“How am I supposed to believe you? After all the lies you’ve told me.”

He looks at me now, and he’s infuriated.

“What kind of person lies about their parents’ fucking death?” he snarls at me.

“What kind of person lures a woman under false pretenses into a deserted neighborhood, kidnaps her, makes her believe that it’s all just part of kinky play, gets her naked, ties her up, and then humiliates her in front of creepy strangers, just to lock her up in a basement and—”

“I get it!” he snaps, raising his voice to a level that makes me shudder with fear.

He pins me down with a dark stare and I sway away from him, the duvet still tightly pressed around my naked body.

“You have no reason to believe me,” he begins, his voice apologetic and somber this time. “I have lied to you before because I had to—”

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