A Beautiful Lie (Playing with Fire #1)(103)

On Parker’s fourth twist and turn, she heard the pounding of footsteps descending stairs close by. She hooked her foot around the bottom rung of the stool and pulled it back to her, sitting down on top of it just as the door in the corner of the room opened.

“Ahhhh, Senorita, I see you are finally awake.”

Fernandez smiled at her as he made his way across the room to stand directly in front of her.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” Parker asked sarcastically.

“My dear, you seem to have attracted quite a bit of trouble since you set foot in my country,” he told her, ignoring her statement. “Almost getting yourself blown to pieces, watching your father shot right in front of you, and now this. Such a pity.”

Fernandez shook his head in disappointment while Parker calculated how many more turns would pull the hook from the beam so she could reach down for her revolver and shoot him between the eyes.

“Well then, since you’re the one who’s caused all of this trouble for me, it’s a good thing I’m going to end your pathetic, miserable life, you pompous *,” Parker seethed.

Fernandez stood up straighter and stared her down, all previous signs of mirth wiped from his face.

“You have a mouth on you, Miss Parker. A lady shouldn’t behave the way you do,” he replied.

“It’s a good thing for me I’m not a lady,” Parker said with a smile as she kicked her foot out in front of her, slamming it right between Fernandez’s legs.

As he dropped to his knees with a whimper and his hands clasped to the family jewels, Parker jumped down from the stool and kicked it across the room. She twisted around and around, as fast as she could, pulling against the cuffs and ignoring the slices she was making against her wrists and the blood that started trickling down her arms. In just a few seconds she felt the give from the hook and with one more twist, she stumbled backwards as it popped out of the wood.

She whipped around, all set to kick Fernandez again just for good measure when she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Seriously, Park, you've got to stop beating people up,” Milo told her with a laugh, his face full of surprise and mirth.

Her head protested in pain when she looked him in the eyes and all of her memories came flooding back in a rush of clarity.

Milo in denial that she didn’t want to be with him.

Milo pacing back and forth in agitation when she told him she’d never loved him.

Milo’s hand, clenching a hypodermic needle rushing towards her neck.

“You lying piece of shit,” she said through gritted teeth.

She had a feeling the things he told them earlier were all fabrications, but she hadn’t been absolutely positive until now.

A few of Fernandez’s guards had entered the room with Milo and helped Fernandez get up from the floor.

“Now, now, my dear, let’s not cast stones,” Fernandez said as he brushed off the front of his pants calmly and moved to stand next to Milo. “After all, someone in the CIA has most likely done her own share of lying, has she not?”

The two guards moved behind Parker. One of them grabbed her elbow and wrenched it back so tightly she couldn’t move while the other pointed his gun towards her kneecaps, just in case she had any more bright ideas of putting her foot between someone else’s legs.

“The difference is that my lying was to protect the people I loved, not to deceive an entire country and hurt innocent girls.”

Milo pressed his gun against her temple and pushed against the soft skin until Parker was sure there would be an indent.

“Those girls were far from innocent. They were whores. No one wanted them. No one cared about them. Their own father’s couldn’t stand them. Kind of like you,” Milo said with a sneer.

“Fuck you,” Parker snarled.

Milo frowned and Fernandez looked at him expectantly. After several moments of silence, Fernandez spoke.

“Put her in her place, son.”

Milo moved so quickly all Parker saw was a blur of color as he pistol whipped her across the cheek with the hand that held the gun.

Her head snapped to the side with the force of the blow and she squeezed her eyes shut to ward off the pain. Parker leaned over as far as the goon holding her arms would allow and spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor by Milo’s feet.

Hands grabbed a clump of hair from the back of her head and yanked her face up until she was staring into Fernandez’s eyes.

“I allowed you to live as long as you have because I thought that one day you might prove to be useful to me. With your checkered past, deadbeat father, and CIA background, I thought recruiting you would be easy. How perfect would it be for me to have not one but two U.S. government employees at my disposal? However, you my dear have proved to be nothing but a thorn in my side. At least my son is proving to be somewhat useful, which is why I went along with his ludicrous plan to keep you for himself. His ridiculous jealousy of Mr. McCarthy has caused him to become quite sloppy as of late. And I just can’t have that, Miss Parker. I’m sure you understand.”

Parker’s eyes narrowed as she looked back and forth between Milo and Fernandez in confusion, picking apart everything he’d just told her and noting that two times in a matter of seconds he had referred to Milo as his son. As she studied the two men, realization dawning on her as she saw the similarities: the same deep brown eyes; the same long, dark lashes; the same olive skin tone; brown hair highlighted by the sun, and the same dimple on their left cheek. Milo’s looks had changed considerably in the year since she last saw him. His hair had never been this light, his skin never this dark. The Dominican sun had brought out every single similarity between the two men, making it glaringly obvious who they were to each other.