A Beautiful Lie (Playing with Fire #1)(115)

“Jesus, Milo! Think about what the f*ck you’re doing?” Garrett yelled in alarm. “Don’t do this!”

Garrett could feel the panic bubble inside of him and spill over so quickly he felt like he wanted to scream. Everything he’d ever learned about a hostage situation or a rescue mission vanished from his mind. The only thing he saw was the woman he loved with a gun pointed at her. A woman who would rather die than let anything happen to him or her father.

“Fuck you, Garrett!” Milo screamed at him, stepping forward to shove the gun roughly into the side of Parker’s head now. “Maybe this really is the best decision. I sat around for years and watched you get the best of everything. I thought killing you would be my way of finally getting something I wanted. But maybe having you watch her die will settle the score,” Milo said as he cocked the hammer, releasing a bullet into the chamber of the gun. The click of the hammer echoed through Parker’s head, and she squeezed her eyes closed.

Garrett didn’t know how much more of this he could take. With one slip of the finger his whole world would collapse.

“There’s no score to settle, Milo. I’m sorry if you thought I got everything and you got nothing. I’m sorry if you had a shitty childhood but that’s not my fault. It’s not Parker’s fault. I stuck up for you, I protected you, and I was your friend. My family took you in and thought of you as one of their own.”

Garrett knew reasoning with Milo and reminding him about their friendship wouldn’t work but he didn’t care. He’d say anything to get that gun away from Parker’s head.

“Oh please, enough of this nonsense. Your family never loved him. They tolerated him. I am his flesh and blood. I gave him life and I gave him everything he deserved for being a faithful son to me. I will continue to reward him from now until eternity for the sacrifices he’s made. Anything he desires shall be his,” Fernandez promised.

Garrett tore his gaze away from Parker long enough to glance up between Milo and his father. Fernandez almost sounded nervous. Garrett knew there had to be a reason why he felt the need to remind Milo about the rewards he gave him and would continue to provide for him. It was almost like the man was trying to bribe Milo, like he was afraid Milo might actually falter with his decision to follow in his father’s footsteps unless he promised him the world on a silver platter.

Garrett watched in shock at the staring contest between father and son and quickly realized it was now or never. As corrupt as Milo had become, and as much as Garrett hated him for tainting every good memory they ever shared, the only thing he could hope for at this point was that somewhere in there Milo still had a heart. That deep down inside that little boy who looked up to Garrett when he took care of the bullies who was still in there — the little boy with the easy smile, the big heart, and the yearning for family and friendship.

“My parents loved you, Milo,” Garrett stated. “My mother hugged you and wiped away your tears every night when you woke up from a nightmare. She made you a scrapbook when we left for college filled with pictures of all of us and little notes about each picture and how much joy you brought to our family by being a part of it. My father taught you how to drive and took you out for your first beer. He bailed you out of jail in the middle of the night when you did something stupid and never, ever lectured you, put you down, or made you feel like anything other than what you were—one of his sons,” Garrett reminded him, punctuating each fact with a shake of his head. “Where was your father when you were thrown down a flight of stairs when you were ten? Where was the man who claims he did everything to make you stronger when cigarettes were being burned into your arm and your bones were being broken? This man, who promises you the world, do you think he’d drop everything and fly across the country just to congratulate you in person about a promotion you got for work like my parents did? Do you think he’d put flowers on your grave every single week and cry from a broken heart like my mother has done for the past year?” Garrett asked, shrugging his shoulders in question.

Parker watched silently at the transformation in Milo. One minute he stood tall and proud and had nothing but vengeance and murder in his mind. After a few of Garrett’s well-chosen words, he lost his confidence and confusion clouded his features.

The hand with the gun pointing at Parker began to shake and Garrett knew that what he was doing was actually affecting Milo.

Fernandez knew what was happening. He’d known all along how weak his son was. He knew that no matter what he did to make sure Milo followed in his footsteps, there was still part of his mother’s blood flowing through him, a pathetic, fragile flowing of conscience that ran through him and fought for dominance. A son worthy of this life would have already pulled the trigger and wouldn’t have let foolish memories cloud his judgment. As much as he wanted a namesake, sadly, it just wasn’t to be.

“Oh for God’s sake, the decision is now mine,” Fernandez said, snatching the gun out of Milo’s shaking hand. “Trés.”

The calm, quiet command from Fernandez was immediately followed by the roar of a gun going off, three consecutive explosions of a chamber being emptied.



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“Come on, you piece of shit, work!”

Brady swore, not for the first time in the last fifteen minutes, and smacked his open palm against the side of the out-of-date computer installed in the back of the van where he sat parked outside of the palace gates.