Page 3 of Twisted Lies

“I…” My voice stops as I strain to hear. The men that are left stand up quickly, all reaching for their guns.

I hear the code being typed into the study.Shoot first, ask questions later. The door opens quickly with a bang as Pete enters, shuts the door behind him. Blood falls from two bullet holes in his chest. He falls, holding a hand against his wound. There is too much blood and nothing any of us can do for him now.

“Who did this?” I demand.

Blood pools at the edge of Pete’s mouth as he tries to speak. “You…have to…leave.” Each word drains him. “Adrian men….kill you…” With one last gasp of air, he is gone. There is only one way out. Leaving the study now would be a death sentence. We do not have enough guns, and even if we did, we only have six people in this room. From the sounds around us, it is a massacre.

“Elijah.”

“Claire, stop.” I reach for her arm, pulling her close. “This is not the end. It’s just the beginning.” I signal the men silently.

Uncle William and Chris lift Father’s desk as if it only weighs a pound, revealing a hidden hatch. Father had shown it to me the day I turned fifteen. He said I would know when to use it, but he hoped I never would. I’m the last one down. We move quickly. To where, I don’t really know as long as we make it to safety. We only make it a couple of feet when the sound of explosives hit us. Claire stops.

“Elijah, they’re blowing it up,” she cries, moving to turn back around. I grab her arm, yanking her forwards, practically carrying her away. “Elijah, what about Rebecca?”

“I know.” I continue to drag her as the men move farther ahead.

“We have to go back. Elijah. We have to go back. Rebecca.”

I stop and shake her hard. “There is no way anyone survived that. Now it’s time to move. We will mourn later, but now, we need to live to mourn.”

We run as the last pieces of our family are blown to hell, as Rebecca leaves us forever. Her death would be on my hands just as much as the ones that lit the match. I say a silent promise to her. One I’ll keep.Rebecca, I’ll get it back. I’ll make them pay. I’ll get your revenge.

ChapterOne

ELIJAH

A Few Months Later

“You can’t think this is actually going to work,” Claire says, pacing the small motel room. The floor underneath the hideous maroon carpet cracks as she moves. I swear the faded wallpaper flowers are multiplying by the day. After three days of being here, I think I’m going insane.

“It’s worth a try,” I answer, annoyed. She’s said the same thing in twenty different ways just today; that’s not including the last few days when I first told her my plan. “We need to have a home before you give birth, and I would rather not be down to the wire on that. This is the best plan, it will work.”

Claire informed me of the upcoming child after we escaped. I’ve been trying to forget who the father is. From what I’ve gathered, Alex has returned to Texas and his business, giving no thought to the passing of his fake fiancée and her family. The more I think about it, the more I want to watch him bleed out on the cold ground.

“You have a lot of faith in a guy we’ve not seen in years.”

“Do you have any bright ideas?” I snap. “If I need help in choosing a backstabbing fiancée, I’ll ask you for help. Otherwise, please leave the fixing to me. Thanks.” She gasps, filled with rage, and I’m thankful there’s not a gun in her hand. Thinking better on my statement, I step to the side and out the door to get fresh air. Slamming the door, I place my hands on the black metal rails and breathe. My breath hangs in the cold Chicago air. “Fuck. Just fuck.”

After we fled, we made our way from safe house to safe house, from state to state. Never staying anywhere for more than a few days. I had the feeling they were always behind us waiting. I would stay up at night watching the door, expecting them to bust in till finally, we made it to Chicago.

I’m in a shit mood, and knowing it is causing me to be in an even shittier mood. My plan to have Adrian’s throat in my hands is not improving my day. I’ve still not processed Rebecca’s death. I don’t have time to think about it, let alone process it, but she creeps into my nightmares, haunting me. If she were here, I’m sure she would have some positive thing to say, like ‘at least we get to spend more time together.’ I’d roll my eyes and make a drink, and Claire would make some smart-ass comment back. But Rebecca’s not here, and Claire and I don’t have the instinct to say anything positive at this time.

One good thing about the motel is the 24-hour bar across the street. Leaving Claire in the room, I walk across the street. Sitting on one of the few barstools, I order a drink. There is only the bartender and the town drunk here at eight o’clock in the morning. I just have to not lose my mind till this evening, and then I can set my plan in action. Only fifteen hours to go.Better start drinking.

* * *

“I shouldn’t be meeting you like this,” James says as he slides from the shadows of the brick wall. He looks the same as the last time I saw him, including the black leather jacket. His black hair is longer at the sides, but I would recognize him anywhere. My appearance, on the other hand, has changed considerably. Claire and I both changed what we could about ourselves after we ran. New hair, along with colored contacts and different names.

“I know. I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one. Why did you call? Last I heard, you were worm food.”

“Glad to hear that news is traveling fast,” I say, meaning it. It will make everything easier if they think we’re dead.

“What are you doing here?” James asks, lighting a cigarette.

“Those things will kill you,” I reply, ignoring the question.

---