Page 50 of Lie to Me

“What happened to your aunt’s house?”

“She left everything to me.”

“Do you think one day you could take me there? To the memorial bench?” he asks in a whisper, his voice cracking a little as he does.

“Yeah, I can do that,” I murmur and take his hand in mine.

“Thank you, little warrior.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Marco

Present

My head has been a mess these last few days, ever since Sloane confessed everything that had happened after she left.

We haven’t spoken much, both of us busy with work, but we’ve been texting here and there while we can. I’ve put everything into finding out whether the linked attacks were because of us or because of Sloane. So far, I’ve found nothing.

Not. A. Thing.

And it’s driving me fucking insane.

I also can’t stop thinking about everything she told me. I feel the loss that she feels. Even though I didn’t go through it back then with her, I still feel that missing piece of us that was takenaway. I wish I could have been there for her. I wish I could have held her hand, dried her tears, and been there with her.

Would there still have been the same outcome if I had handled things differently? Could the stress of both losing me and moving away from home contributed to what happened? I know she said that she was told it was just one of those things, that they couldn’t determine the reason for it happening, but I still feel like hell when I think about the things I could have maybe done to prevent it.

When she told me, I cried. I haven’t cried since I was a child. Fuck, I didn’t even cry after everything went down ten years ago.

It’s fucking painful, yet in some twisted way, I feel like I don’t deserve to feel that pain. I don’t deserve to be hurt by something that didn’t physically happen to me, that Iwasn’t fucking there for.

I listen to the chatter happening around me, but I’m not really taking anything in. It isn’t until Luca snaps his fingers in front of me that I come back to the present.

We’re here for another goddamn family meeting, trying to figure out what the hell is going on with our shipments lately and trying to figure out who’s targeting us.

“Marco,” Luca barks, and I swing my gaze to him.

“Are you even listening?”

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh and looks towards my father who then speaks. “We need you to find out what the notes Sloane had received meant. I know you wanted to give her space so she’d eventually tell you what they meant, but we can’t keep holding off, son. This could mean her safety being compromised, as well as our own.”

Do they know? They don’t take death of their own lightly.

I can barely hold in the groan that wants to come out as I listen to what he’s saying. There’s no way in hell I can’t not tell them. Sloane did give me to permission to share what happened, I just feel fucking raw right now and I’m not sure I can tell them without breaking down.

Left without another choice, I take a deep breath. “I know what the notes were about,” I murmur. I shift in my seat before clasping my hands together to stop myself from either fidgeting or throwing something at the wall.

“She didn’t know it at the time, but when Sloane left the city ten years ago, she was pregnant.”

I’m silent for a moment while they all blink at me, my words seeping in.

“It was a week or so into her stay with her aunt when she started bleeding heavily, so her aunt took her to the hospital.” My voice cracks and I run my hands up and down my face.

A hand lands on my shoulder as my father’s voice fills the air.

“She lost the baby?” he whispers. I can’t look at them as I mutter, “She was four months along.”

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