Page 74 of Liar
The moment I saw Will emerge from the side door, having changed shirts, I reached into my pocket, feeling the plastic tube and needle there. Will held onto a bag, and he went right to his car and unlocked the trunk, setting the bag inside with a wince. It was as he closed the trunk that I began to walk towards him.
No one else was around. No other living souls in the parking lot. There were cameras, but I had a hood on. My footsteps were quiet, and by the time I reached him, he had the driver’s door open, the keys in his hands. He was about to get in, but I didn’t give him the chance. I took out the needle and stuck it into the back of his neck, pushing the few ounces of liquid into his system.
“What…” Will could get out no other word, his body soon becoming limp. I caught him before he could fall, although his keys did crash onto the pavement below. I kept him upright, reaching for the back door.
It took a bit of finagling, but I was able to lug his body into the car’s backseat. I also zip-tied his hands, just to be safe.
After closing the back door, I picked up the keys and got in, closing the door and starting up the vehicle before whipping out my phone and dialing. When my brother picked up, I spoke first, “I have the mark. I’ll be there shortly.” I hung up and started to drive.
This was all my idea, of course. Bringing Will to the house. He was an untrained killer, but even old dogs could learn new tricks. You simply had to know how to teach them.
He’d need to be looked at by the family doctor, assuming he didn’t die before then. If he did, oh well, nothing lost. If he made it, then the family just got another tool. It would be a long time until he was ready to have a mark of his own, but maybe the family would simply want him in the house. Sometimes my brothers left the property to do what they had to, and other times they were paid to bring their marks back to the house. To videotape and provide proof that the job they were hired to do was done.
I was certain Will would like what my family’s basement held. I’d taken quite a few trips down there myself over winter break, having finally gotten permission to bring home a mark of my own. Brian Hutcherson, AKA the slightly overweight Batman who’d tried to rape Ash. With what happened to Brooklyn, his disappearance was swept under the rug due to her public, gory death.
Oh, yes. I had a lot of fun with Brian before his body gave out.
Midpark wasn’t too far from Hillcrest. My family’s estate sat on the outer reaches of Midpark, having one of the largest mansions and biggest acreage surrounding it. A high, iron fence all around, sharp spikes on top. Guards who constantly watched the grounds. Cameras everywhere, just in case. When you dealt in what my family did, you could never be too careful.
I pulled in after being greeted by the guard at the gate. By the time I pulled up to the front of the house, I saw two men in suits waiting for me. Lowly workers. Cousins of mine who weren’t suited for the front lines, so to speak, so their lives were spent at the house, doing whatever it was the family needed.
When you were a Scott, family came above all else.
They helped me get Will’s unconscious body out of the car, and they helped me carry him inside. The house was immense, expansive in every way. I guided them towards the office I was supposed to, and they already had everything set up. Our family doctor cut open his shirt, disinfected his wound and stitched it closed, slapping a new bandage on it; it would have to do for now, because right now he had a meeting with a certain brother of mine.
Once we were in another office, a dark place whose only light emanated from a lamp on the grand mahogany desk in the center of the room, the other two left, leaving me alone with Will. The man whose office this was would be here soon.
Will’s hands were still kept behind his back with the zip tie, his shirt hanging open to reveal the bandage. He winced, slowly coming to, his head lifting as he looked around, light brown eyebrows creasing.
I leaned my backside on the front of the desk, standing between his seated form and the expensive hunk of wood.
“You,” Will whispered, his voice hoarse. “Where the fuck am I?”
“You’re at my family’s estate,” I answered, folding my tattooed arms over my chest. “You should be grateful, Will, because without us, there’d be no way you’d survive out there. You’re far too rash.”
His hazel eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, Travis.”
“I think you’ll be thanking me, especially in a few years, when you’re still alive—and when you’re doing what you enjoy. Unfortunately, though, you won’t get to see Ash again.”
He winced as he breathed in deeply. “What are you talking about?”
“We can use you, train you. And it should be obvious why you won’t get to see Ash.”
Will’s expression hardened. “You think you have it all, don’t you?” A slow, sick smile spread on his face, a look of pure anger crossing his features. “You don’t. I know your secret, Travis. And I bet Declan doesn’t.”
I said nothing, only staring at him. I would not be intimidated by him.
“You could’ve saved Sabrina,” Will spat out. “I was going to take care of you after Sawyer—”
“There will be none of that, William Briggs,” a stern, low voice spoke behind him. One of my older brothers walked into the room, adjusting the dark suit jacket he wore. I quickly moved off of his desk, because he tossed me an annoyed scowl as he entered.
I moved to stand beside Will, watching as Markus narrowed his eyes at us both.
“You will not hurt Travis,” Markus continued, looking downright intimidating as he glowered. His typical expression, really. “You will, in fact, not hurt anyone for a long time. Travis believes you can be an asset to the family, but you’ll need to be broken before you can be built up in the family’s image. I assure you, William, we’ll do what we can, but if you don’t make it, well, I don’t think anyone out there will shed a tear for you.”
Will knew better than to speak right now, as did I.
Markus toyed with the watch on his right wrist, the suit on his body snug. He had a towering frame, taller than most. With his black hair and black eyes, he was a soulless thing, a beast among men. “This is the start of your new life. I suggest you don’t waste it. Our family is not good with second chances.” And then Markus did a very rare thing: he smiled.
