#Liar Liar Liar trio | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dominimoonbeam · 4 months ago

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Don't Run - 19

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

you can find the series from the start over on patreon.

story tags: mobsters, romance, explicit sex, explicit language, learning to trust, dark themes, bad childhood, arranged marriage, reference to past murder, kidnapping, danger, violence, guns

DON’T RUN - CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Freya excused herself to get changed and no one argued.

She hadn’t really been surprised to see Harmon waiting to question her. He had all the doubt she’d expected to see in Adi, that sharp eye looking her over for injuries—trying to decide if the threat had been real or if she and her family were playing a game.

It wasn’t beyond possible.

Nothing was.

The only thing that had surprised her, was the way Adi shut his father down, closed the door, and then looked at her like he was really worried—like they were anything but inmates on the run and chained together.

When she escaped to her room and her bathroom, she stood at the mirror and touched her hair, tucking it behind her ear just like he had. She tried to see what he had seen in her reflection. What had that look on his face meant? What game was he playing?

With a curse on her lips, she looked away, grabbing a brush and dragging it through her tangled hair. She didn’t really want to change out of Ezra’s clothes into her own. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the week, but that wasn’t an option.

In the solitude of her bedroom she found her backpack still in the corner where she’d left it and crouched to tug it open and check the contents. It was a small comfort just to see her few personal belongings there. At least she hadn’t had it with her when she’d gone into bay.

Her phone was gone. She’d get a new one tomorrow and check it with her aunt before the hag sent one of her thugs. Probably Clayton.

Freya winced. She did not want to deal with Clayton, especially not when she was feeling sore and slow. If he saw weakness… No. She didn’t want to see that particular fixer.

Through her door, she could hear the low hum of Aid and Ezra talking in the kitchen. Their voices were both deep and hard to tell apart, but there was something calm about one and sharp about the other—differentiating them.

She folded Ezra’s borrowed clothes after dressing in her own leggings and large hoodie. She had to go back out there. It was either that, or risk them coming into her room to check on her.

Closing the door behind her, Freya marched back down the hall. The carpet was blissfully soft under her aching feet and the scent of coffee made her stomach growl.

The men had gone quiet even before she turned the corner into the kitchen, waiting for her.

Ezra smiled and Adi glowered.

They were sides of a coin, the same in so many ways but different on the surface.

Ezra held his mug out for her in offering to share and Adi’s gaze flicked to it and then to her again. What had she gotten herself into now? She wanted to move closer to Ezra, to take his mug and stand close, in hopes of some familiar contact now that they were oh so familiar… but would that be a mistake? Did Adi know? Did she care if he did?

She stepped closer to both of them and looked down into their mugs. Ezra’s coffee was black and Adi’s was light brown. Was she too bold? No. She was a Morgan. She took Adi’s mug and he let her, her fingertips barely brushing his before she retreated to a perch at the island counter.

Ezra laughed and turned to the espresso machine on the counter, presumably to work up another cup.

She took a long, grateful drink and then finally looked at the big binder on the counter. “Does it matter?”

Adi stood at the island across from her, his back to Ezra and the kitchen. “You mean, identifying who attacked you?”

She shrugged, flipping the book open. “I got away. Evil plans evaded. Problem solved.” She skimmed the photos and turned a glossy page. It was like a collection of baseball cards… if the players were all lowlifes and conniving billionaires.

Adi hadn’t replied.

Freya glanced up and found him staring right back at her.

“It matters.”

A jolt shot up her spine, making her sit straighter and her pulse quicken. “I didn’t make it up,” the words rushed out. She suddenly realized she had to find Vizzini among these faces or no one would believe her. Her assistant had seen her get snatched… but Freya could have set that up. Why would they believe anything more? She was a Morgan and it wasn’t so long since she tried to run.

Fuck.

“I don’t think you made it up,” he said.

She barely heard him.

Adi’s hand touched the back of hers, over the side of the coffee cup on the counter. Her gaze snapped to his again.

“I don’t think you made it up,” he said again. “But I need to know who thought they could kill you.”

Everyone thinks they can kill me, she thought, surprised how bitter it tasted. She was a Morgan, but she was just a pawn. She was literally scrambling around the board trying to convince her queen not to sacrifice her.

“Freya?” Adi’s face was so close, his hand warm against the back of hers. His brow pinched. Was he worried?

She held his gaze and tapped the laminated pages of photos. “Everyone in this book, it seems.”

He shook his head slowly, a slow, violent smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making him even prettier than before. He looked down at the page she had open. “No.” He tapped the set of pictures there. “These are hustlers. If you dropped your name… either name… they’d run before they risked looking at you wrong.” He flipped through a mix of mugshots, group photos, and candid snaps. “These are personal enemies of my parents…”

She stared, heart beating faster. Why was he telling her this? What if this was information she didn’t already have? What if she told her aunt?

He grunted. “We were doing business with these assholes a few years ago. They tried to coup us. Came pretty close too.” Adi huff a laugh that was edged in cruelty and pride. “Not nearly close enough but pretty close. I think these two are still alive but I’m pretty sure the rest are dead.”

Her pulse was in her throat. He was handing her information. Like he trusted her?

Another page and he stopped, smile gone.

She looked down before he could turn the page, catching it.

Her face was on that page, along with her family and their employees. An old photo of her parents was in the corner. She hadn’t seen her momma since she was a kid. They didn’t have any pictures of her at the house. Freya had found and kept one but her old man found it. Her aunt made her eat it—crammed it right down her throat. Freya was her mother’s daughter. She would run and she would end up in the ground for it. It was just a matter of time.

Freya jerked away, looking to the balcony windows and trying to blink away the sudden mist over her eyes.

“Is this your mom?” Ezra asked, standing beside her with his new coffee in hand. She hadn’t noticed him rounding the island.

Her gaze flicked down to the page, surprised to find her hand still on it, fingers pressed against the plastic beside the woman smiling in the photo. Was this the last picture of Norma Jean Spencer? No. Somewhere out there she’d had a family before she met William Morgan. Somewhere was a family photo album of her childhood, full of potential. Right? God, Freya hoped so.

She nodded, struggling to take her hand away. She needed to. She needed to flip the page and pretend she didn’t care.

Ezra sat beside her. “You have her smile.”

Freya took her hand back, balling it into a fist in her lap under the table. The compliment twisted like a knife. Just like her momma. Gonna die just like her too.

“Where do they go?” Adi asked.

She didn’t look at him, afraid he’d see it in her eyes. “What?”

“Your family… Sometimes they just…”

She felt her heart harden. Yes. Sometimes they just… “They leave. Wouldn’t you?”

The pause was long enough that she thought his eyes would have that stoney glare when she finally met them. But he was just waiting, surprised. “No.”

Freya exhaled hard, turning it into a laugh. No. Of course he wouldn’t leave. And no, she supposed his family wouldn’t bury him either. His father was just as bad as Sybil in many ways, but killing his own didn’t seem to be on the menu.

She pushed the book away, toward Adi, and picked up her mug in both hands. “The guy was rich,” she said. “He was our age and he dressed like you… smelled like you too. Not exactly the same cologne but, something close.”

Adi blinked and she couldn’t read that expression. Surprised? Flattered?

She sipped her coffee. She’d thought a lot about Vizzini but she hadn’t planned to share. “I think he could be useful if we figure out who he works for. I don’t want to kill him yet.”

Ezra grinned. “Yet,” he repeated against the lip of his cup.

Adi looked dubious.

“He said his name was Owen, but he was lying,” Freya continued. “I don’t think he’s a professional killer but he’s a professional… Maybe a fixer? But not the kind that gets dirty. This guy doesn’t get dirty, he just plans and watches. I don’t think he likes a mess. Might even be neurotic about it… It wasn’t a vendetta, not for him. I got the sense he’s working for someone exclusively but he doesn’t sound emotionally attached so I don’t think it’s out of loyalty. He referenced a boss who had decided about the details of the plan.”

Adi nodded and turned the binder toward himself, flipping through pages.

“He said I was his first Morgan, but he definitely knew about us. He smiled. All the time. This sort of mean, false smile.”

“Sounds like just about every guy at May Bell now…” Ezra muttered.

Adi huffed but ignored him, showing Freya a couple more pictures.

She shook her head and then realized all at once, almost dropping her cup to lift her hand. “That shit stole my ring.”

Ezra and Adi both blinked at her.

Vizzini had snatched it right off her finger and then pocketed it.

Adi laughed, back to flipping pages. “We’ll get you another one. You can even pick this one out yourself if you want. Anything else you can remember about him?”

She frowned at her hand. It wasn’t that she cared about the ring. It was just that he’d taken something from her… “He seemed to know your dad pretty well—or at least what he would do. He said if Harmon found my body on his docks, he’d cover it up before my family found out. The plan was to get pictures of your old man dumping my body to cement his guilt and really make it look like your family had killed me.”

Adi nodded. “Did he say where or how he thought Harmon would do that?”

She shrugged. “Sink me in the bay or bury me by his cabin?”

Adi’s gaze cut up to her, hands still on the pages.

Ezra whistled. “The cabin…”

She hadn’t known anything about a cabin.

Adi bared teeth and immediately flipped a chunk of pages to a section at the back.

“What’s that?”

Ezra leaned back in his seat. “Yours isn’t the only family in the book…”

Freya looked at the plastic pages and a dozen photos of what she quickly realized were other Ellis relatives. She recognized a few—distant cousins and a couple of screw loose uncles. They had been players when Harmon was young and working his way up, screwed over or breaking away along the climb to the top.

“The cabin is a family safe house. It’s not common knowledge and no one else would think we buried bodies out there even if they knew about it existing let alone know where it is and think they could stake it out to record us there.”

“Huh,” she held her cup up in both hands, bottom lip to the edge. “Now that you say it… He did have your charm.”

Adi stared back at her, eyebrow lifting. “How so?”

“Rich, pretty, narcissistic, and cold. I think he was more worried about the stains I put on his clothes than fucking up his plans.”

Ezra coughed a laugh, thumping his fist to his chest to try to dislodge it.

Adi just stared at her. “I’m not scared of stains, Freya.” His mouth twitched at the corner, almost smiling. “But I’m glad you think I’m pretty.”

She laughed then too. “That’s your takeaway?”

He turned the book to show her more pictures. “Anyone here?”

She dragged her gaze over each photo. She spotted Vizzini immediately, only he was a kid in the picture—fifteen at most. He was in a damn suit even then, hands in his pockets and chin tipped high. It looked like a family portrait, him and half a dozen other teens including Adi and Grayson. Adi was in a suit too, but Grayson wasn’t. In fact, he was in a rumpled dress shirt, slacks, and converse. Like someone had tried their best to dress him for the occasion but this was the best they could do.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, tapping the picture.

Ezra leaned in close and smiled. “I remember that. It was a wedding. I got to tag along… There! That’s me.” He pointed at a blurry kid in the background.

He winked in a way that made her almost certain that blur was not him.

“Who’s wedding?”

Ezra shrugged but Adi answered. “One of Harmon’s friends.”

It was Freya’s turn to raise an eyebrow, imitating Adi. “Friend?”

He shrugged. “Business friend. It was a long time ago. The guy’s been retired and living on his estate in the heights for the last decade. Martin? Holdin, maybe? I can find out. He made a lot of money with Harmon.”

Freya nodded like she wasn’t all that interested anyway. What was Vizzini doing at an Ellis party as a kid? If she tapped her finger on his face and asked his name, would Adi know it? Would it be that simple?

Could she trust him not to put a bullet in Vizzini before she figured out what was going on? Before she found a way to make him useful?

“Anyone you recognize?” Adi asked.

Freya nodded and tapped her nail to the plastic. “Yeah, this smug shit.” She pointed at him.

Ezra laughed.

“And what the hell is going on with Grayson in this picture?” she laughed. “He looks like he was out partying too hard the night before. I’m surprised he’s not wearing sunglasses.”

Ezra’s laughter dwindled, but he kept that warm smile.

Adi shrugged and pulled the book back to himself, flipping more pages. “He was in his rebellious phase,” he said. She wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.

“Uhuh… And how long has that been going on?”

“Two decades?” Ezra offered when Adi ignored the question. “It fits him. Can you imagine Grayson any differently?”

Freya nodded, even though she definitely could. Her family had surveillance pictures of the Ellis heir when he was a teen, just years before that wedding party picture was taken. He had looked just like Adi and the rest of those rich boys, in prep school uniforms and tailored suits more expensive than anything she owned. He’d been just as bright-eyed and naïve too.

Something had happened to change that.

#don't run #honest liars series #mobster trio #mobster romance #gangster romance #adi/ezra/freya #own work #dominimoonbeam #clover down #romance #<3

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