Lie to Me Book 4: Pretty Little Lies

The grand iron gates creaked open, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. My eyes, as blue as the summer sky, widened in fear, my small hands clasped tightly in my lap as I watched the men with guns through the taxi window. Their faces were hard, their eyes cold as we drove up the long driveway toward the imposing house.

“Just follow my lead, Lia, and you’ll be okay.”

The taxi came to a halt, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. She opened the door, her grip firm on my hand as she pulled me out of the car with a force that made me feel like a rag doll. Men stood guard at the door, but they didn’t stop us.

I stumbled over the threshold of the mansion, my mother pulling me along. Her once vibrant blonde curls now hung lifelessly down her back, mirroring the simple cotton dress she wore. She used to remind me of a Disney princess with her big blue eyes and golden hair, but not anymore.

Not since she started getting sick and taking those blue pills that made her sleep all the time. My pink dress, adorned with bows and frills, tangled around my knees, nearly tripping me as I tried to keep up with her brisk pace. The sound of my ballet shoes tapping against the marble floor echoed eerily through the long hallway.

I was too scared to say anything. Just two hours ago, she’d told me she was going away for a while and that I’d be staying with my father. We’d never talked about him before, no matter how many times I’d asked.

The kids at school teased me for not knowing who he was, and I was often bullied. It didn’t help that my mom worked at a club where she had to take her clothes off. I knew she hated leaving me alone at night, but we couldn’t afford a babysitter.

She tried taking me to the club with her once, but she didn’t like the way the men looked at me. I never told her that some of them had tried to touch me. I knew it would only upset her.

Speaking of men, my eyes darted nervously at the tattooed men we passed, guns hanging at their sides. She had pleaded with them to let us in at the gate, and after a brief conversation on a walkie-talkie, they did.

We came to a sudden stop in front of a large wooden door. The man guarding it knocked and then pushed it open for us. I gasped and hid behind my mother as the man behind the desk stood up and stormed toward us.

He was enormous, towering over us like a mountain. “What the fuck are you doing here, Louisa?” he growled, causing my mother to tremble. “I told you never to come back here!”

His body still radiating anger, he straightened up, his gaze shifting from my mother to me. “And who might this be?” he asked, his voice suddenly smooth.

My mother grabbed my wrist, pulling me from behind her to stand in front of the man. Her hands were firm on my shoulders, holding me in place. “She’s yours,” she declared.

I looked up at the man, my hands trembling. He bent down, bringing his face closer to mine. This man was my father? We looked nothing alike. His hair and eyes were dark, and he smelled of smoke—a scent that made me wrinkle my nose.

“Lia,” I said, my voice strong.

He continued to stare at me as my mother spoke again. “She has nowhere else to go,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “You have to take her.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Why would I even consider that?”

Her grip on my shoulders tightened, causing me to wince, but I didn’t pull away.

“Fine,” he interrupted, dismissing her with a casual wave of his large hand. “I’ll take her.”

“You’re free to leave now, Louisa,” he said, nodding to a man across the room. Suddenly, rough hands seized my mother, pulling her out of the room.

My father merely smiled at her, a cruel, cold smile. “No. The child is no longer your concern. Goodbye, Louisa.”

“Lia!”

Tears streamed down my face as I watched the men drag my mother away, the door slamming shut and cutting off my view. I wiped my cheeks, turning to look at the man again.

But he simply ignored me, returning to his desk and leaning back in his chair, watching me as the large man reentered the room. “Put her with the others,” he ordered coldly, gesturing toward me. “She’s no daughter of mine.”

My eyes widened in fear as the large man gripped my arm, pulling me out of the room just as he had done with my mother. But when I tried to scream, no sound came out.

As we rounded a corner toward the back of the house, I saw a large car pull up. A young girl in a school uniform hopped out, her dark hair fluttering in the breeze as she skipped into the house, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil unfolding around her.