Page 37 of Lie to Me

Marco

Past – September 2014

The courtyard is empty as I step out of the building. I’ve just finished a late class, and I’m exhausted, but I still need to head over to my fathers for a family meeting before going out to do a few jobs for him.

I’ve only been back in school for a couple of weeks and the workload is already piling up.

He’d probably get someone else to deal with my responsibilities for the family if he knew how overworked I was, but I refuse to let someone take over for me. Besides, he’d probably start asking questions and looking into my schedule, and that’s the last thing I need.

I don’t want him to find out about Sloane.

How we’ve managed to keep our relationship a secret for over six months, I have no idea. There’s been a few times that we’ve come close to getting caught, but still somehow managed to keep it just between us. I haven’t even told Luca about her, and he’s usually the one person who knows everything that’s going on in my life.

I do feel bad lying to him, which is why I’ve distanced myself from him over the last couple of months. I’d rather not see him than have to be around him and lie about what I’ve been doing.

I also fucking hate the fact that Sloane is my dirty little secret and that I’m hers.

She should never be a secret.

But when it comes to either keeping her safe or having a public relationship, I’ll choose her safety each and every time.

I head towards the parking lot, ignoring the few students I pass along the way. They know who I am, and I’ve split them into two categories.

The ones who are so terrified of my family that they avoid me at all costs.

And the ones who think my family’s line of work is something exciting and try to get close to me for either my money, status, or for an adrenaline rush.

Both are fucking idiots.

I come to class, do my work, and leave.

I honestly don’t think I’ve had an actual conversation with another student in the two years I’ve been here, and that’s exactly the way I like it.

I’m just about to reach my car when I see someone come up behind me from the corner of my eye. I spin around and reach for my gun, only I’m not quick enough. Something blunt hits the side of my head and sparks of pain blur my vision, not letting me see my attacker before a feeling of dread churns in my gut and the world turns black.

Iwake up to hushed voices filling the air. It takes me a moment to remember where I am and what happened.

I blink my eyes open to find myself in some sort of warehouse. It looks similar to the ones my family owns, but I know that can’t be possible. I attempt to move, but my body is too heavy. I glance down to find myself strapped to a chair and the voices have disappeared.

Huh.

There’s no way in fuck someone managed to get me in here and strapped to this chair after only a hit to the head. Whoever took me must have drugged me, too.

I make sure to keep my expression passive despite the panic brewing inside me, conscious of who could be watching. I glance around, but I appear to be alone. Still, there could be cameras.

My hands are tied behind the chair while my ankles are tied to the legs of the chair. There’s also rope wrapped around my waist, keeping me secure. Whoever it is that is keeping me here seems to know what they’re doing, because there’s no way I can get out of this without some sort of knife or blade.

Growing up, as inhumane as it sounds, our father used to tie us to a chair and time us getting out of it. I was always the quickest between me and my brother. Our dad always wanted us to be prepared for what could happen in the future and taught us everything he could to try and keep us safe. I was always good at staying stoic and escaping. The issue is, there wouldn’t normally be this much fucking rope.

Clearly, the universe couldn’t do me a solid and have me kidnapped by an amateur.

The clanging of a metal door has my attention snapping to my surroundings, but I don’t let it show. Seconds later, two men come in, dragging a woman behind them. My gut drops when I see that blonde hair and those toned legs as they pull her further into the room and tie her to a beam in front of me. It isn’t until I get a closer look at her that I realize it isn’t Sloane, just a woman with the same her color and a similar build.

“Good evening, Mr. Romano,” a man says as he steps into the room. I look over to see my girlfriend’s father waltz into the space between me and the woman.

What the fuck is going on?

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, O’Brien?” I ask through clenched teeth.

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