Fated Lies (Lies 3)

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Come with me, Miss Dunn, and we can discuss what will be done about Mr. Pearce.”

I bite my lip and hold back tears as I look at Langston, broken and weak on the floor. I want to run to him, hold him, protect him.

“Promise me if I go with you, you won’t hurt him,” I say.

The man smiles. “This isn’t a negotiation. You are in no position to negotiate.”

“You want information from me, yes?”

He shrugs. “From either of you. Whoever tells me what I need gets to live.”

I shake my head. “The only way you get the information you need is if you let him live. Each of us only has half the information. You need both of us.”

The man frowns. “I promise I won’t hurt him until after we’ve talked. You have my word.”

It’s the best I’m going to get, so I take a step to follow him.

“No, Liesel,” Langston says, trying to scramble to his feet to come after me.

I refuse to turn and look at him. I’m doing this to save him. I won’t let him persuade me to let him suffer in my place with his puppy dog eyes or commanding voice.

The man in the suit looks past me to his two employees. “Make sure he stays here, unharmed until I say otherwise.”

I exhale sharply in relief. The man starts walking out of the room, so I follow him like a loyal servant.

He doesn’t speak to me as we walk down the hall, and I try to tune out Langston’s moans and pleas.

Please, let me be doing the right thing.

The man stops in the original room I was laid down in. He puts his hand out, indicating for me to sit on the couch, so I do. I told him I’d do anything to keep Langston safe, and I will. I’ll do anything, and that terrifies me.

I want Langston’s kids to grow up with a father—that’s the only reason I’m doing this. I don’t care about Langston, not really. I just want his secrets, and I don’t want to be responsible for making two beautiful children fatherless.

The man shuts the first door, then walks over to the second door that has a view of the outside door. He slowly shuts it, closing off my escape.

“You’re very interesting, Miss Dunn.”

“I sure am, Mr.…?”

He smiles at me. His dark hair is perfectly combed over, his teeth are pearly white, and his sharp jaw is clean-shaven. He looks like he’s about to go into a boardroom, not about to interrogate someone for information about stolen treasure.

“I don’t think you’ve earned my name yet, Miss Dunn.”

“If you are going to torture me, you might as well call me Liesel.”

“Who says I’m going to torture you?” He sits on the arm of the couch and stares at me, completely in control of his pleasant facade.

“Just a guess based on the fact that I was taken against my will, locked in a tower, and the last time you brought me above ground, I ended up with some broken ribs.”

“You exaggerate. I doubt your ribs were actually broken.”

I narrow my eyes. “You dislocated my friend’s arm and injured his elbow.”

“Did I?”

“You did.”