Together we lie deadly l.., p.1
Together We Lie (Deadly Liars Book 1), page 1
Together We Lie
Vari Scott
Copyright © 2022 by Vari Scott
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events or incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
Editor: Kenzie, Nice Girl Naughty Edits
Cover Design: Ria, Graphic Escapist
Trigger Warnings
While this book may not be as dark as some romance novels out there, there are still topics that people may find unsettling or triggering.
If you know any of the following may make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.
Murder,
Torture,
Child abuse,
Drug abuse,
Underage pregnancy that alludes to grooming (although it is not spoken about directly).
Playlist
Dangerous Woman – Super Pipo
Play with Fire – Sam Tinnesz, Yacht Money
Bloodshot – Sam Tinnesz
In Chains – Shaman’s Harvest
Sweet ‘n’ Savage – Kxlly
Big Bad Wolf – Roses & Resolutions
Bad – Royal Deluxe
Bad Guy – Halocene
Killer – Valerie Broussard
No Time To Die – Billie Eilish
Wicked Games – The Weeknd
Frozen - Madonna, Sickick, Fireboy DML
The Hunter – Sam Tinnesz
Outlaw – Neoni
Darkside – Neoni
Fallout – Masked Wolf, Bring Me The Horizon
Contents
Dedication
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty One
22. Chapter Twenty Two
23. Chapter Twenty Three
24. Chapter Twenty Four
25. Chapter Twenty Five
26. Chapter Twenty Six
27. Chapter Twenty Seven
28. Chapter Twenty Eight
29. Chapter Twenty Nine
30. Chapter Thirty
31. Chapter Thirty One
32. Chapter Thirty Two
33. Chapter Thirty Three
34. Chapter Thirty Four
35. Chapter Thirty Five
Coming soon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
To everyone who had to suffer through my nonstop chatter about writing a book or listen to the unorganised chaos that became this story.
Chapter One
My trainers squeaked across the glossy white vinyl flooring as I hurriedly followed six hospital workers all donned in green scrubs and the two heavily armed men accompanying them. Two nurses kept exchanging rapid glances at each other from across the bed, with only their eyes visible from behind their facemasks. Their full expressions may have been lost behind the three-ply, light teal fibre masks, but the fear in those glances betrayed everything.
They were terrified.
The gurney protested as the rickety left wheel in the back shook frantically at the speed it was being pushed along the empty hallway, the quick but steady beep of the heart monitor attached to the bedside railing setting the pace.
The building we were in was modern, spacious and bright, with glass walls sectioning off several modest-sized offices. State-of-the-art computers sat atop height adjustable desks with solid black leather chairs tucked in neatly, waiting for the next working day with none of their occupants knowing what had happened the night before.
We hurried, passing another two men fully dressed in black combat pants, short-sleeve t-shirts, and bulletproof vests brandishing military-grade rifles, their hands flexing on the pistol grips and handguards. Both men’s eyes followed the team, expressionless and composed as their boss was wheeled unconscious past them.
The bed rounded into an empty room, save for medical equipment and a stony-faced surgeon, whose hands were held between his neck and waistline.
“Quickly, quickly,” he snapped, his tone bolder in contrast to the slight shake of his hands. He jutted his chin towards a space in the middle of the room, frantic as he halted the bed with his raised hand. “We don’t have much time. We should have started this procedure thirty minutes ago.”
One of the armed guards grabbed the surgeon by the throat and snarled, “You better not fuck this up, Doctor Zare.”
“Get your hands off me,” the doctor choked out, his voice losing the little bravado he had before, as the brutal grip of the guard’s thick fingers squeezed around his neck. The guard flexed his grip before pushing the surgeon back, sneering as he walked away.
I wondered if this doctor was on Nissaney’s payroll, or if he was being extorted. Maybe a greater person would care enough to investigate this, help him if needed, but that person was not me; I couldn’t give two fucks who this asshole was. He was not the objective today.
The man currently lying unconscious was tonight’s assignment: Alessio Nissaney. Lucrative business owner turned crime boss with several vocations across the Valley. But none was as profitable as his role in the theft and trading of organs. The man was the kingpin in selling fresh organs on the black-market and had no moral code when it came to money. No one was off-limits; man, woman, or child, if you had something one of his clients needed, Nissaney would deliver. No one was safe from him or his henchmen.
With a recent diagnosis of heart disease, and rather than change his diet and take the prescribed medication like a normal person, Nissaney finally required the use of his own resources and that would ultimately be his downfall.
The surgeon took a breath before walking towards the knocked out Nissaney, skimming the charts held out by a nurse, then quickly checked his vital signs and barked orders to his staff scurrying around him, all the while avoiding eye contact with the goons holding guns at the ready.
I hung back near the door, watching and waiting to be assigned my task in all of this. The room had medical curtains lining the windows, cocooning it in to look like a faux surgical suite. A large operating light, stationed in the centre, hung over the gurney, and on several portable stainless-steel carts near the far wall lay blood bags, IV fluids, and various surgical utensils, all available to start the procedure that would save the sick bastard’s pathetic life.
“Nurse Constantine,” Dr. Zare said firmly, barely glancing up in my direction, “as soon as I have made the incision into the patient’s sternum, I need you to run to Dr. Anderson. He will hand you the new heart and then you must run straight back. This is very time-sensitive.”
I nodded, excitement bubbling deep in my stomach as I reached up to smooth the green cap sitting on top of my red hair, which I had tied in a tight ponytail. I bounced on the balls of my feet, my pulse racing as I watched the surgeon’s shaky hand pick up a steel scalpel from the cart someone had rolled to his side.
Thank God my mask hid my teeth digging sharply into my bottom lip as I waited. Tingles ran down my arms in anticipation for Dr. Zare to start the procedure to remove Nassaney’s black heart.
“Now!” he shouted, and my heart leapt as I turned to take off down the corridor towards the two mountains of muscle guarding the door that could only contain one Dr. Anderson.
I ran as fast as I could, my shoes slapping against the floor, squeaking with every step. My pulse thrashed in my ears, adrenaline pumping through my veins as my foot caught, and I stumbled to the floor, crashing onto my outstretched hands, ready to break my fall. I grabbed my ankle, groaning in pain as I ducked my hand under my trouser leg to where three syringes were held to my skin with several strips of micropore tape.
“For fuck’s sake,” one guard muttered, coming closer, his hand going for my bicep. He bent down, shifting his gun to the side as he reached for me. Thrusting my palm upwards, the heel of my hand connected firmly with his nose, blood bursting from it as it broke on contact, his warm crimson blood running down his chin and across my hand.
I pushed to my feet, launching for the guard, and stuck one of the needles concealed in my palm straight into his neck and pushed the plunger down.
“You fucking bitch,” mountain man number two barked as his friend stumbled against the only wall not made from glass on this whole floor. He grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back against his massive chest. One long, strong arm bound across my torso as he reached over to snatch my arm in his fingers and painfully squeezed the muscle, making it immobile, as the beginnings of getting a dead arm trickled to my fingertips. His other hand came up to my front and wrapped tightly around my throat, hauli
Fighting, I tucked my chin down, pressing into his grip, and slammed my head back into his face as hard as I could, but he didn’t drop me, only groaned. I fisted my hand and struck backwards, fighting the numbness filtering down my arm thanks to mountain-dickman’s fingers still pressed into my muscle. My fist landed square between his legs, the second syringe piercing straight through the thin cotton of his trousers. The guard hissed, pushing me away from his body, eyes wide at the sight of the plastic barrel sticking out of his dick.
“Didn’t your mother tell you that light choking is only good during sex?” I taunted through a cough and rubbed at my neck, all the while trying desperately hard not to laugh at the tube bobbing up and down as the guard stumbled backwards.
I rested my hands on my knees, breathing in deeply as I watched the second of the two huge men fall on his ass and pass the fuck out. Looking quickly around – that fight was anything but quiet – I made my way to the door, testing the lock.
“Son of a bitch,” I groaned, tipping my head back in frustration. Turning back to the passed-out guards, I checked their pockets for a key, before snagging one of their guns in the process.
Unlocking the door, it swung open to a small storage room, cast in a light blue hue. A timid grey-haired man sat on a stool by what could only be described as a containment chamber you’d keep Alien or Predator in for science experiments. Suspended in this incubator was the heart destined for Nissaney. Wires and tubes were connected to the organ, keeping it alive and fresh after being cut out of some innocent person whose only crime was being healthy and having the same blood type as the crime boss down the hall.
The doctor shakily stood, holding his hands up disarmingly. I sighed, only just realising most of these people were not here of their own volition.
“Dr. Anderson, is it?” I asked, squaring my shoulders as I marched into the room, glancing briefly at the heart that was pulsing in the glass incubator. The doctor nodded, with his hands still held high. I looked at the rifle I had pointed in his direction and shrugged. “Nothing will happen to you if you do what I say, okay?”
“But- But Nissaney?”
“Don’t worry about that snivelling sack of shit. Hopefully, he’s even closer to Death escorting him to the fiery pits of Hell, but only if we are quick.” I nodded towards the heart with my chin, the gun still raised at the doctor. “I need you to unhook all that stuff and give me the heart.”
“What-what are you going to do with it?” he asked, his voice a higher pitch than I’d have thought it to be by looking at him. He appeared older than Dr. Zare, with a heavy grey beard covering his quivering chin and thick round glasses magnifying his small eyes to unimaginable proportions; they almost looked comical.
“That’s not your concern, but it will not be used for Nissaney’s surgery. That’s all you need to know.”
“The organ will only be viable for six hours at best once I’ve removed the life support,” he stated, gesturing to the equipment connected to the various tubes and wires. I walked closer to the glass, watching the lub-dub, lub-dub of the heart, mesmerised for a moment by something so few would ever witness in their life.
“I know,” I whispered. It was an unfortunate waste, but as soon as it was out of its sterile environment, the chances of it being useful were slim. I grabbed a pair of latex gloves from a box sitting beside a computer and tugged them on. Raising an eyebrow at Dr. Anderson, he got moving quickly, and with haste, he unplugged, unscrewed, and turned off different machines.
The incubating chamber opened with a hiss, and the trembling doctor reached carefully inside, removed the heart from a glass shelf, and passed it over. Holding the warm organ in my gloved hand, my lips parted in a quiet gasp, surprised by how light this life-giving thing was. I looked around the room, seeing a brown paper bag sitting on top of the desk. Turning the bag upside down, a sandwich and banana fell out — clearly, Dr. Anderson’s lunch — and I dropped the heart in their place. I took off my gloves and put them in with it.
“Why don’t our hospitals have equipment like this?” I asked, folding the top of the bag over a few times, sealing the contents.
“Are you joking?” Dr. Anderson asked with a humourless laugh. “The cost of all of this is something no hospital can afford.”
I clenched my teeth. Of course, dirty money can buy the best of everything – scotch, cars, and, clearly medical equipment.
“Make sure you get it to Carlin Valley Hospital when this is done,” I ordered as I walked towards the door to leave. “Oh,” I paused for a moment and lifted the rifle strap over my head, passing it to the doctor after switching the safety off, “you’ll need this more than me.”
“I can’t – I can’t shoot… kill anyone,” he stuttered, looking at the weapon now in his hands, his huge eyes blinking rapidly. He looked over the top of my shoulder, to the pair of legs sprawled out on the floor.
“It’s either you or them, doc,” I said simply, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Two of Nissaney’s men are down the hall with everyone else. Save your staff.” I stuck my head out into the corridor, checking up and down before turning back to the doctor. “It’s easy. Don’t think; just point and shoot.”
I jogged towards the steel grey doors of the elevator, giving the doctor a finger wave as I stepped into the lift and leant against the handrail of the back wall, smirking at the two guards still passed out on the floor. The soft bump of the doors closing jumped me into action. I placed the paper bag on the ground and toed off my trainers while pulling the green scrubs top over my head, dropping it to the floor.
Shucking the pants off next, I let them pool at my feet, leaving me in black yoga pants and a white vest top. Turning to the large mirror in the steel box, I raised my finger to my eyes and pinched at the plastic-like film, instantly turning them from green to my natural baby blues. I rolled the lenses between my fingers as I pulled off the green surgical cap, along with my red hair, dropping the wig and balled up coloured silicon on the pile of discarded clothes.
The elevator doors opened with a ping to the bright lobby of the office block, and I sashayed out of the building with bare feet, giving the security camera above the revolving glass doors a wink. It was a superfluous move, considering the feed had been jammed, but one I enjoyed.
Walking out into the sunshine, I breathed in the fresh, antiseptic-free air. Alex was leaning against the building, one foot on the wall, smoking his vape with a small duffle bag at his feet. His aviator glasses rested on his nose and his perfectly mussed-up brown hair made him look like some model posing for a photo in worn jeans and a white tee covered by his leather jacket.
“You hungry?” I asked, taking my jacket from his outreached hand. He scrunched his nose, pushing his glasses to the top of his head.
“Seriously? You’re hungry now?” He eyed me like I was mad as I dropped to the ground, setting the brown paper bag beside me with a squelch. “You’ve just stolen a human heart, held it in your hands, essentially played God for ten minutes… and you’re hungry?”
Leaving Alex to moan about my twisted eating habits, I peered into the duffle to find it full of different weaponry and my shoes. I pulled out my favourite black heeled boots, ignoring the backup Alex so clearly thought I’d need for this job, then shoved my feet in one at a time and pulled up the zips.
I smiled up at my oldest friend. “Well, I’m starving. I fancy chicken and a milkshake for dinner. You want?” I asked, pushing off the concrete and walking down the pavement. I stopped when I didn’t hear footsteps behind me, then turned round to look at Alex, who was staring, motionless.
“Uh, Stevie?” he questioned, pointing to the ground. From the front of the office to where I stood was a trail of blood. I looked at the bottom of the bag saturated in red, noticing it was leaking from the bottom.
“Oops,” I said, shrugging, going to the trashcan and dropping it in the bin. “There. You ready?” I clapped my hands together and continued off down the road.
Chapter Two
Being summoned by the boss the day after an assignment was never fun. Especially when that meant getting up at the ass crack of dawn for an eight a.m. meeting and traipsing over town to the high-rise office blocks that displayed “JONES” in bright block letters shining from the top. Most men bought flashy cars or started dating women young enough to be their daughters when overcompensating for other shortcomings bestowed upon them, but I guess having your name fixed to the outside of a skyscraper was Will’s equivalent to that. Regardless, I was here and was going to have to suffer through an unnecessary lecture from the oldest of Alex’s brothers.
