Tell me to Lie
Page 1
Tell Me to Lie
Charlotte Byrd
Contents
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1. Nicholas
2. Nicholas
3. Olive
4. Olive
5. Olive
6. Olive
7. Olive
8. Olive
9. Olive
10. Olive
11. Olive
12. Nicholas
13. Olive
14. Olive
15. Olive
16. Olive
17. Olive
18. Olive
19. Olive
20. Nicholas
21. Olive
22. Olive
23. Olive
24. Olive
25. Olive
26. Nicholas
27. Olive
28. Olive
29. Olive
30. Olive
31. Nicholas
32. Olive
Excerpt of Dangerous Engagement (Wedlock Trilogy Book 1)
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Also by Charlotte Byrd
About Charlotte Byrd
Copyright © 2019 by Charlotte Byrd, LLC.
All rights reserved.
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Cover Design: Charlotte Byrd
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This book is a word of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Identifiers
ISBN (e-book): 978-1-63225-059-9
ISBN (paperback): 978-1-63225-060-5
ISBN (hardcover):978-1-63225-061-2
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About Tell Me to Lie
There was a time when my debt was the only link we had.
There was a time when I couldn’t tell him how much I loved him and he couldn’t tell me. There was a time when I thought I could never have enough money.
Now, everything is different.
Nicholas Crawford is a stranger who is becoming more strange with every moment.
I used to think I could make a life with him, but now I’m not so sure.
We have been through too much.
But then he takes a step closer.
Then he whispers something into my ear.
Then presses his lips to my mouth.
Suddenly, everything that was wrong starts to feel so right…
Read the EPIC Conclusion to the addictive TELL ME series by bestselling author Charlotte Byrd.
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Also by Charlotte Byrd
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Wedlocked Trilogy
Dangerous Engagement
Lethal Wedding
Fatal Wedding
Tell me Series
Tell Me to Stop
Tell Me to Go
Tell Me to Stay
Tell Me to Run
Tell Me to Fight
Tell Me to Lie
Tangled Series
Tangled up in Ice
Tangled up in Pain
Tangled up in Lace
Tangled up in Hate
Tangled up in Love
Black Series
Black Edge
Black Rules
Black Bounds
Black Contract
Black Limit
Lavish Trilogy
Lavish Lies
Lavish Betrayal
Lavish Obsession
Standalone Novels
Debt
Offer
Unknown
Dressing Mr. Dalton
1
Nicholas
When they arrest me…
The handcuffs are tight around my wrists but the pain doesn’t come close to the pain that’s surging through my heart. It’s as if Olive stuck an ice pick right through it, splintering it into a million little pieces.
I try to breathe but topple over in pain. The seat in the back of the cop car is vinyl and it feels cool against my body. I look out of the window.
The FBI agents and the local police officers are swarming around my recreational vehicle. I force myself to take another deep breath and search through them for Olive.
Where is she?
Where did they take her?
If only I could get a glimpse of her, then I’d know for sure if she had betrayed me.
Or will I?
They are only here because of her. It was she who has turned me in. It was she who led them here.
At first, I had my doubts about her. I wondered if I should trust her.
I had betrayed her, so what would make me think that she wouldn’t betray me as we
ll? Still, after talking to her on the phone, I got the sense that she believed me.
I run over every word that we said to each other, first on the phone and then in person. I look for clues that she might have been lying, but nothing comes to mind.
It was so nice to reconnect with her. It was so wonderful to hold her in my arms again. I had missed her so much, maybe I had just convinced myself that she was telling the truth.
I close my eyes and imagine my lips on hers.
Her mouth is soft and inviting and everything that she has always been. Was it all a lie? Was our whole relationship nothing but fiction or was it only a lie at the end?
Was this her way of showing me how much I had betrayed her?
It starts to snow.
Big thick flakes fall from the sky. Somebody brings me my coat and boots from the RV. Someone else helps me put them on. Three cops crowd around me as they carefully unlock my wrists, fearing that I’m going to make a run for it.
But I won’t. It would be a suicide mission.
They want to arrest me but they are willing to shoot me.
I may have committed other crimes, but I never killed anyone, let alone my partner or my ex-girlfriend. And I’ll be damned if I let them say that I did, let alone kill me for it.
I may not have much strength now, but I will fight them on this. They will not ruin my name and dirty it up with lies about murder. I never killed anyone and I will not let them put me away for crimes that I didn’t commit.
A cop starts the car and we slowly pull out onto the gravel road. Snow starts to fall faster and faster and the wipers work hard to keep the windshield clean.
Snowplows typically don’t come down this far into the woods and I wonder if the rest of the police force crowding around my RV will get out before the majority of the blizzard sweeps in.
I sit back against the seat and look at the snowflakes dance outside the window. I’ve never been in jail or prison but I’ve heard the stories about lack of outside time.
Will this be the last time that I see the sky?
Is this the last time that I will see snowflakes as a free man?
As we pull out onto the main highway and head toward the police station, my thoughts return to Olive.
What if she didn’t betray me?
What if they were following her and she led them to me by accident?
I unclench my fists and take a breath.
This time my heart doesn’t feel like it’s splintering into a million different pieces.
Okay, I say to myself. Now what?
I take another breath. Deeper this time. The air flows in and out of my lungs and my body starts to relax even more.
Does this mean…what I want it to mean?
Does this mean that maybe she didn’t really betray me?
Maybe they just followed her?
My body certainly seems to think that, and for a moment I let it. But then the rational part of me takes over. This part doesn’t care much for feelings and emotions. The only thing that matters is the likelihood of something being true. And in this case?
Yes, perhaps the FBI did have their eye on her. But would they have followed her all the way from California?
Would she not have noticed them?
How could they have known that she was coming here? We communicated using burner phones so that our calls were untraceable.
My heart starts to tighten again as the truth comes to the surface. Though it’s definitely a possibility that she just led them here, it’s unlikely. What’s more likely is that Olive knew exactly what she was doing. She had betrayed me, on purpose, probably to get back at me for what I did to her.
The interrogation room is as nondescript and empty of all life as the ones you see on television. There are no windows and only one door.
I expect a two-way mirror but they don’t even have that.
Instead, there are two cameras mounted to the ceiling, one facing me (the suspect) and the other facing the interrogator. I’m at the local police station but it is an FBI agent who first comes in.
He is tall and built like a football player, though those days are well behind him. His hair is cut short, straight across the top, a look popular with 1980’s TV movie villains. He asks me a series of questions that I have no intention of answering or even justifying with a response. When he sees that he’s not getting anywhere, he leaves and sends in a replacement.
Scrawny and lean, he doesn’t look much older than thirty and yet I can tell that he has been around the block a few times in his career. He doesn’t give off the same goofy vibe as the other one and appears more threatening with his demeanor. If it were anyone else, perhaps I would have felt that way. The first guy was playing the role of a good cop and this one is definitely the bad cop.
“Listen, you don’t need to try to scare me,” I say, sitting back in the most uncomfortable chair on the planet. “I already told you and the other guy. I want to talk to my lawyer.”
“You don’t have one,” he points out.
“I’m entitled to one, right? This is still America?”
Begrudgingly, the FBI agent nods.
“I would like to call a lawyer and until I have him with me, I’m not saying another word.”
The FBI agent whose name I already forgot folds his arms across his chest and puffs it out in frustration.
“This isn’t going to help your case,” he finally says. “If you talk to us, and explain, I might be able to help you.”
With my arms shackled to each side of the table, I can’t move so I just sit up a little and look him straight in the eyes.
“I don’t think so, kid,” I say slowly and then sit back.
Without another word, he leaves the room.
I look up at the camera and give it a wink. I didn’t get far but at least I didn’t give them anything that they were looking for.
Cops often don’t know as much as they want you to believe they do. So, they want to make their case by talking to you. It’s tempting, of course. You’re in chains and you want to explain how this whole thing is a terrible mistake. But I force myself to keep my mouth shut.
When the doorknob turns, I brace myself for yet another FBI agent.
Good cop didn’t work.
Bad cop didn’t work.
So, what the hell are they going to throw at me now?
“Hello, Nicholas,” Art Hedison says and my heart jumps into my throat.
2
Nicholas
When I see him…
I steel my gaze on him, without looking like I’m scared or even surprised to see him. No, this asshole doesn’t deserve a flinch from me.
“How are you doing?” he asks.
My mind rushes through all of the possible explanations and reactions. What should I say? How should I act?
“I’m fine, given the circumstances,” I say with a casual shrug. “And you?”
“Good, good,” he says, nodding his head.
He stares at me and I stare back.
We both know why he’s here. The first two FBI agents couldn’t get anything out of me, so he’s here to do what they couldn’t do.
He is here to make me admit something.
He’s here to rattle me.
He’s here to break me.
“Are you surprised to see me?”
I shrug.
“I’m sure you are given that you thought that you would never see me again after that day at the mall.”
This is what they call ‘leading the witness.’ I don’t take the bait. I just sit back in my chair and lift up my chin in the air.
“You remember that day, Nicholas?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say.
“Are you denying the fact that we met at the mall?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
My thoughts return to our last meeting. It was out in public with lots of people around and, more importantly, with cameras recording our every move.
“Maybe,�
� I say, tilting my head to one side. “Maybe not. I’m going to tell you what I told the other two agents. I’m not admitting to anything or confirming anything until my lawyer gets here. I know my rights and I intend to use them.”
“That would be a very big mistake, Nicholas. ‘Cause you see, I can help you. I’m here for you.”
Like you were there for me before? I’m tempted to say. What a fucking joke!
“I’m just here to help. I know that you have your side of the story and I know that you didn’t kill anyone.”
He’s tempting me.
He’s saying that he believes me when we both know that he doesn’t.
And even if he does, it’s just a lie anyway. The only reason he’s here is to get a confession.
“I know you didn’t kill anyone,” Art says, leaning closer to me. “The thing is that they don’t know that.”
He nods back at the camera as he says the word ‘they.’ He’s on my side. He’s trying to be my friend again.