Tell Me a Truth: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Coralee June

  “I promise,” I lied. I’d do anything to protect those that I loved. I loved my father, and I still loved Decker, too. I wasn’t comfortable with him going in with me, but I knew he wouldn’t entertain my request for him to stay in the car.

  “Good girl,” Decker replied. We then got out of the car and headed inside, the briefcase full of cash in Decker’s hand.

  It wasn’t hard to spot our contact. He stood out like a sore thumb in the hotel’s fancy lobby. With dark eyes and a scruffy goatee, the man looked intimidating in his all black attire and laced up combat boots. I could see the outline of a handgun against his tight shirt, as if he wasn’t afraid to let the world know he was packing. Leaning against a pillar in the hotel, he propelled off and started walking toward us the moment he saw my wide eyes. “What if Dad isn’t here?” I quickly asked Decker under my breath as the man approached. This could’ve all been a waste, an opportunity for them to get fifty grand and for me to host another funeral.

  “Let’s wait and see,” Decker replied just as quietly right as the man stopped in front of us.

  “Are you Blakely?” the guy asked. He had a surprisingly high-pitched voice that reminded me of a mouse. I was too scared to answer him, so I simply nodded. It felt like the hinges in my neck were rusted from the stress blanketing my bones. “Come with me,” the man demanded.

  Decker and I followed him to the elevator and got inside, where an elderly couple and a young businessman on his cell phone joined us. It was so painfully mundane and crowded. I wanted to scream that we were in danger and warn everyone in this damn hotel what was about to transpire. However, I kept my lips sealed shut. Decker’s words were on repeat in my mind.

  Exchange the money. Get Dad. Get out. No hero shit.

  One by one, everyone got off the elevator except for us. They were off to do whatever it was people without threats over their head did, while we headed to the top floor. The penthouse suite awaited us, and the man guiding us looked at Decker curiously as we ascended.

  “The boss isn’t going to like that you brought someone,” he observed.

  My retort was full of venom. “Well, I don’t like that he’s got my father.” The words tumbled past my lips before I had a chance to realize how stupid they were. If we wanted to get out of this alive, we needed to keep a calm head. Decker grabbed my hand and squeezed, a confident reminder that he was with me but also annoyed by my outburst.

  The man guiding us simply tipped his head back and laughed in a high-pitched giggle that ultimately ruined his badass persona. “Oh, he’s going to have lots of fun with you. I hope he lets me watch,” his mousy voice replied.

  The doors opened to the penthouse suite before I could ask what that meant, and we were shoved inside. Men with large guns flanked us the moment we entered the lavish room. Decker stared at the weapons strapped to their chests with trepidation. I briefly wondered if he was remembering the night he was held at gunpoint, and hated myself for putting him in this position.

  The penthouse had marble floors and large windows surrounding the living room, giving an unobstructed view of Memphis. On an eclectic blue velvet couch sat a man who was eating popcorn and watching TV, laughing at whatever was being said on the screen.

  “Boss, she’s here,” our escort said. “It seems she brought a friend.”

  The man on the couch sat up and turned to look at us, a wide grin taking over his face, which showed off a gold front tooth. He looked just as terrifying as the rest of them, but there was an extra sense of sinister cockiness to his body language that made every hair on my body stand up straight. His eyes were an icy shade of blue, and he was wearing dark sweats. “You made it,” he observed while eyeing the briefcase in Decker’s hand.

  “Who are you?” I bravely asked while fighting the urge to tap my fingers against my thigh. I didn’t want to show him even an ounce of anxiety. I knew men like this; they got off on the fear they commanded from their victims.

  “You can call me Boss,” he slyly responded. I didn’t like the authority in his tone or the implications of his name. I used to believe that all humans were capable of redemption, but there was a flaw in that logic. Not all people were human. Humanity was a gift not everyone readily accepted. Instead, they filled their hearts up with venom instead of empathy. This man wasn’t human; he was evil.

  Without acknowledging the money, Boss simply snapped his fingers, and one of his men walked forward to yank it out of Decker’s grip. I couldn’t hold back my rage. There was no negotiating, no talks. He just plucked the insane amount of cash from Decker’s hand with an assuming wink. “Hey, we had a deal!” I yelled. Boss didn’t seem fazed, he simply watched as the briefcase was opened up for him, showing off the numerous stacks of cash inside.

  “Guess you really are a genius,” he said before picking up a pile of money and sniffing it. His low, slow inhale was almost erotic in nature. I could even see from where I was standing a few feet away that his pupils were dilated with sensual glee. He was a conceited man that got off on the smell of cash, and a fleeting thought flickered through my mind: He was Mama’s type.

  When Boss was done inspecting the cash, he set it back in the briefcase before standing and stalking over to me.

  My teeth chattered. Beside me, Decker went hard with tension, every muscle in his body was flexed and ready for action. I could feel the wave of protective energy flowing between us. Decker was still holding my hand, but he kept his vice-like grip on my nimble fingers. My bones could have cracked from the pressure. “I thought I told you not to tell anyone,” Boss said while looking Decker up and down. He seemed unimpressed with my bodyguard.

  “I didn’t tell anyone. He found me and refused to let me go alone.”

  “You must be pussy-whipped or stupid. I’m not sure what’s worse,” Boss said to Decker while looking him up and down with annoyance.

  “Why are you doing this?” I found the courage to ask. Boss turned his attention back to me, his smile disarming as he took a step closer.

  “We don’t tolerate deserters in my gang,” Boss began, “If we offer you protection on the inside, then we demand that you work for us on the outside. Your father broke our code and had a debt.”

  I wanted to stare at the watch on his wrist, mostly to gauge how much time had passed. How long would it take the police to show up? I noted once more that we’re in the penthouse suite, which occupied the very top floor of the hotel. Whenever the police arrived, these men would have plenty of time to know if we had ratted them out. We were stuck.

  I wanted Boss to keep talking, to waste as much time as possible. The longer he was rambling, the longer the police had to get to us. “I paid his debt,” I gritted.

  The man laughed. It was a sinister sort of sound that felt chilling and cruel. “If I’d known you’d bring it so willingly, I would’ve asked for more. Maybe I should ask for more.”

  “I’m not bringing you another cent until I see my father,” I said in a louder voice full of false bravado. Boss must not have liked my snarky words, because he snapped his hand out to wrap his fingers around my neck. I tried to jerk away, but he squeezed, locking me in place with his steady grip. I tried to heave in gulps of air, but my lungs couldn’t expand. Grinning at my struggle, Boss then pressed even harder while staring me in the eye.

  “The way I see it,” he began as Decker took a step closer. He was on the verge of beating Boss to a pulp, despite the men surrounding us with guns. I could feel the angry energy hammering throughout the room. “You’re not in any position to be making demands,” Boss said. Decker lifted his hand up to yank him away, but a man clutching a pistol aimed at him, halting Decker in his tracks. Meanwhile, my vision was fading to black.

  One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. I felt my legs go numb. My chest was on fire. When he finally let go, I gasped for air and fell to my knees, coughing and sputtering the moment I hit the ground. Oxygen had never tasted so sweet. My lungs flexed as tantric air filled me up like a placebo for
dopamine. I’d never felt so thankful for the ability to breathe.

  The relief was short-lived though, because Boss then threaded his fingers through my hair and yanked me hard. I felt clumps of my blonde strands disconnect from my scalp at the jerking movement. Tilting my head up to look at him, the man called over his shoulder while keeping his eyes on mine. “Bring me, Frank,” he ordered in a bored tone as if all of this was a regular occurrence.

  Three men disappeared into a side room, and within moments, I heard shuffling behind the door. Grunts and moans then erupted from the room, and moments later, they emerged from the shadows while dragging my father’s broken body. Dad’s hands were tied behind his back, and his shirt was coated with fresh blood. There was a bandanna tied over his mouth, and my heart sank the moment I saw him. When our eyes connected, Dad growled and started thrashing. I wanted to rush over and help him out of his restraints, but Boss’s hold on my hair kept me in place. Despite being tied up, Dad still managed to fight though.

  Boss finally let go of me as he laughed at my father’s feeble attempts to break free. I stood up as my father jerked his arms and legs back and forth. He screamed as loud as he could, though the sounds were muffled from the gag in his mouth. One of the men holding him punched him in the ribs, and the distinct crunching sound made me want to vomit. “Don’t hurt him!” I cried out.

  Decker, who had been silently watching throughout the entire exchange, finally spoke up. “We gave you your money, now just give us Frank, and we’ll be on our way.”

  Boss started to stroke his chin with his bony fingers as if contemplating what he wanted to do next. All of his men were hanging on his every move, waiting for the order and effectively feeding his ego. How desensitized were they to violence? How conditioned were they to follow Boss’s orders?

  “I suppose you’re right. The debt has been paid. And this sorry sack of shit...” He paused to wind up and punch my father in the gut as I whimpered. Dad’s entire body went limp. “Isn’t worth my time,” Boss finished.

  “Please let us go,” I begged.

  “Release him,” Boss finally conceded.

  The men holding onto Dad reluctantly started to untie him, making sure to leave his gag on. I knew Dad was in bad shape when he remained slumped over on the ground even after his hands were freed. I looked at Boss, wondering if this was a trap. He seemed like the sort of man to give false hope only to yank it back once you settled into the idea that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

  “I don’t have all day,” he growled while gesturing toward my father.

  Not needing to be told twice, I rushed over to Dad and tried to help pick him up. Decker went with me, and together we hoisted him off the ground and rested his arms on our shoulders. Not a single person moved to help us, and it didn’t seem like they were too concerned about a bloodied man traveling through the hotel. Whatever sort of organization they were a part of, they were confident in their power.

  Decker and I dragged Dad toward the elevator, and the moment my index finger moved to press the button leading down, Boss started to laugh. It was a menacing sort of sound that made me freeze up. Even though I struggled under the weight of my father, I glanced over my shoulder to see what was so funny but cringed when I realized what he was laughing at. Boss was standing at his living room window, looking down below. “I thought I told you not to call the police,” he said while spinning around. At his words, his men unholstered their guns and aimed them at us. I could feel the threat of death at my back.

  I quickly pressed the elevator call button, even though I knew it was hopeless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stuttered before glancing at the blinking light above the door. Come on, I thought.

  “Then why did five cop cars just pull up to my hotel? I thought you were some kind of genius, bitch. Now you’re just taking advantage of my kindness.” Boss seemed calm even though the men around us were bursting with toxic energy. I looked up at the elevator light once more, praying for it to open.

  All the while, Boss just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared out the window. It was chilling that he didn’t even seem concerned. I wouldn’t put it past someone like him to have the law in his pocket. Everything happened too quickly. “Back off,” Decker growled when a man with a rifle stalked closer. A meaty hand wrapped around my bicep, tugging me out from under Dad just as a stream of bullets rained down on the room.

  I covered my ears at the loud boom, and Dad dropped to the floor. I could hear sirens in the distance through the peppering shots. I screamed.

  “Blakely!” Decker bellowed while trying to get to me.

  “You’re not getting out of here alive,” Boss promised. It was so chaotic that I almost didn’t notice the gaping wound in Dad’s back. I almost didn’t notice how he was gasping for air or how his body twitched as his life fled from his body. I tried to run for him, but the man holding me kept pulling me back. I watched in terror as blood poured from his lips, and screamed until my throat was raw.

  He died swiftly, though it felt like an eternity passed in the blink of an eye.

  Another man slammed Decker against the wall. I watched in horror as the barrel of a gun found purchase against my temple. Still, the love of my life fought to get to me. “Get the fuck away from her!” Decker yelled.

  I should have screamed. It seemed like the natural thing to do. But I was too shocked to even move. Another string of bullets rang out as the elevator doors opened, revealing an empty, cavernous escape we’d never get to use. The man holding me didn’t budge. My feet were stuck to the floor like the thick roots of an oak tree, buried deep despite the storm happening within the penthouse. “Blakely, fight!” Decker begged.

  More bullets. Decker kicked the man pinning him down. “Kill him first. I want her to watch,” Boss demanded before finally turning away from the window to grab the briefcase full of cash. Most of the men left with him through a hidden set of stairs, but the two men detaining us stayed behind to finish the job.

  Decker punched the man holding him. I was sobbing, not sure why I was still alive. I couldn’t stand to watch. This was my fault. Decker was going to die because of me.

  Another punch.

  Decker fought hard and landed a kick to the man’s gut.

  Another punch.

  Somehow the gun dropped to the floor during the struggle, and Decker seized his moment. They both lunged for the weapon, but Decker was first. That’s when I felt the cold metal of the gun pointed at me slipped from my skin. I watched in agony as the man holding me aimed at Decker.

  The first shot hit his friend, but they both went down, the attacker landing on top of Decker. The man I loved groaned while trying to shove the dead body off of him. Another shot. Decker screamed like it had hit him, but I couldn’t see for sure.

  “No!” I yelled. Slowly, Decker stopped struggling beneath the dense body on top of him. I felt my soul slip out of my mouth as I wailed. He was dead. Decker Harris was dead.

  The man with the gun walked over toward the carnage with stoic calmness. He kicked at their bodies with a slight shrug before turning around to face me.

  I took a good look at my soon-to-be killer. He wore tight jeans, a white shirt and had greasy, matted blond hair. Numbness relieved my soul of its agony, replacing despair with acceptance. “Do it,” I begged. I didn’t want to live in a world where Decker Harris and Frank Stewart didn’t exist.

  He casually raised his gun and aimed right at my chest. A million thoughts rushed through my mind, but one prominent irony rang clear as a bell: It was poetic justice that he would shoot me in an organ that died the moment Decker Harris stopped moving. “You want me to kill you, don’t you?” he asked. The man had a deep Southern accent.

  “Do it,” I said again, this time with more force. I closed my eyes, imagining a Ferris wheel. I imagined Decker and I sitting in our carriage, secluded from the world and lost in sensations. I imagined his lips on mine. I imagined his whispered promises
. I love you. I love you. I love you.

  Bang. A shot. An ending. A beginning. I clutched my stomach and looked down, expecting to see crimson. But there was nothing. Snapping my attention to the man threatening my life, I watched as he fell to the ground, blood pooling through his shirt.

  My eyes went to Decker. He was scarily pale and holding a gun while pinned under a dead man. He dropped the weapon and closed his eyes the moment the elevator doors opened.

  Police flooded the room, demanding that I put my hands in the air while simultaneously shouting their questions at me. But I could only say one thing again and again and again.

  “He’s dead,” I cried.

  “He’s dead,” I sobbed.

  “They’re dead,” I whispered.

  34

  Decker

  “How long?”

  That was the first question I’d heard after clawing my way out of hell. It was a far-away voice that clipped the pounding in my head. “How long, Blakely?” Lance’s voice asked again, I wanted to open my eyes, but it felt like rocks were laid across my eyelids and weighing them down.

  “It feels like forever, but months?” Blakely’s soft voice replied. I felt my chest constrict as hands wrapped around my arm and lightly squeezed. There was a constant beeping in my brain that pinged in time to my racing heart.

  “Months? You’ve been hiding this for months?” Lance replied incredulously. I tried to open my mouth but couldn’t. I wanted to defend myself and protect my girl. Lance was obviously hurting, and I knew better than most that hurt people, hurt people. It shouldn’t have happened like this. Blakely shouldn’t have had to weather the storm by herself. But I couldn’t fucking wake up.

  “We didn’t want to hide it from you, Lance. It started out as something we both denied, then it became something more. By then, it felt wrong to say anything.”

  “It was wrong to start anything, Blakely,” Lance’s cold voice replied. My heart sank. “Did you not care about his job? He could have lost everything because of you.”