A Beautiful Lie (Playing with Fire #1)(109)

The two men stood toe-to-toe, staring each other down for several seconds. Brady knew there was nothing he could do to shield Garrett from whatever he would hear. The man was stubborn as a mule and would do whatever he wanted. Brady stepped aside, tapping the “play” button as he went.

There were no sounds at first. Garrett held his breath and prayed for some sign that Parker was okay. After a few seconds he had to strain his ears, but he could finally hear something - rustling, something that sounded like cloth being ripped and heavy breathing. Soon after, voices followed, echoing through the computer’s speakers.

“El hijo pródigo is a lucky man to have tasted your flesh. I think I will enjoy the sounds of your screams.”

Garrett’s heart stopped at the sound of a man’s voice so close to the microphone, which meant he was close to Parker. There were some more sounds of shuffling and then he finally heard what he’d been waiting for. It was mumbled and completely unintelligible, but he'd know Parker’s voice anywhere.

“Did you say something, quierda?”

Nothing could be heard but the sound of what he assumed was Parker, taking slow, deep breaths. Then suddenly, without warning, a loud cracking sound burst through the speakers, followed immediately but a heavy thump.

“Here’s a lesson for you, *. Don’t f*ck with me.”

Garrett let out the breath he’d been holding with a small chuckle. “That’s my girl.”

He turned around to face Margarita.

“Okay, what’s the plan?”



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Parker’s legs had given out not long after the guard had his nose shoved up into his brain courtesy of her CIA training. She slid down the wooden beam, ignoring the splinters that bit into her arms as she moved and sunk to the floor. She lost track of time as she faded in and out of sleep, jerking awake each time her head dropped down and her chin bumped into her chest. The chaos of the last twenty-four hours, the fear, the adrenalin, the shock…it all came crashing down around her, and she had to fight to stay alert. It was a losing battle she finally gave up on, letting sleep consume her until the pounding of footsteps on the stairs woke her some time later.

Parker quickly struggled to get back on her feet, feeling too vulnerable sitting on the floor where she’d have to look up at everyone who entered the room. Her exhaustion, the numbness in her arms from being cuffed together behind the beam, and the awkward way her legs were tied together at the knees made it impossible for her to get any kind of leverage to stand. She huffed angrily in irritation and let her head thump back against the wood as the door to the basement opened.

Fernandez and Milo walked into the room followed closely behind by two guards and what looked like another person sandwiched between all of them. From Parker’s position, she could only see an extra set of legs.

The group stopped short when they got into the room and took in the scene before them.

“Jesus Christ!” Milo yelled as he stared down in disgust at the passed out guard with dried blood caked all over his face and shirt.

Fernandez simply shook his head in annoyance, motioning with his hands for one of the guards to remove the offending sight from the floor. When the man stepped out from behind Milo, Parker was finally able to catch a glimpse of who was behind them.



<> ~ <>



Garrett didn’t bother to struggle against the man who held his arms securely behind his back. Having a small army of guards with automatic weapons aimed at his head made him think twice about doing anything stupid.

He knew the plan of smuggling himself into the palace by way of Margarita’s trunk wasn’t foolproof. He had no elaborate strategy in mind about staying hidden until Brady was able to send help and jumping out at the last minute and saving the day. Garrett simply wanted to get into the palace without any fuss; he wanted to get one step closer to Parker.

Mission accomplished.

As soon as Margarita had driven through the palace gates, the car was searched, the trunk was popped, and Garrett was dragged out by his shirt, punched in the face a few times for good measure, relieved of his gun that he’d hidden in his ankle holster, and then hauled into one of the palace sitting rooms where he now stood, awaiting his fate. Margarita played her part well, the shock at having an extra passenger in her car clearly evident as she ranted and raved to the guards about her lack of personal safety.

Fernandez and the man he used to call a best friend stood from their respective chairs when he was brought before them. Every guard in the place raised their weapons as soon as they saw the whites of his eyes.

“Carlos, have my wife meet us downstairs in the holding room,” Fernandez said to one of the gun-toting men in the corner before he finally turned to face Garrett.

“Lieutenant McCarthy, so glad you could join us,” Fernandez said with a smile.

“Oh, it’s entirely my pleasure,” Garrett replied with sarcastic cheerfulness. “I didn’t want to miss out on a chance to congratulate you on your bouncing baby boy.”

Garrett’s eyes trailed over to Milo who stood tall with an arrogant smile on his face next to his father.

“I’m not sure on the protocol over here, though, is it customary to celebrate bastards?”

Garrett’s comment hit the mark just like he knew it would. The smile was wiped from Milo’s face, and he stalked right up to Garrett and threw a punch at his jaw.