Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins
Chapter 19
Dieren, 1 December 2020
Petra Van Gatt
The drive back to the Van Dieren’s estate might only take forty-five minutes, yet neither Yara nor I say a word during the whole trip. Yara didn’t even ask anything about my encounter with Mom, except when she saw me coming back, to which she only asked, “Ready?” Maybe she doesn’t want to know, or maybe she isn’t as curious as I am. From my side, I’m still under a wave of shock at everything Mom told me. Turning my head to Yara, her dark-brown eyes are still glued on the road, unaware of what I know about her. As I keep observing her, I wonder if she helped her brother and my dad dig the grave to bury her friend. How could she leave the body of a friend decomposing in an abandoned farm without any remorse? How? The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I refrain myself from asking; both Alex and Mom would be in trouble for having shared such a big secret with me without her knowledge.
I turn to the other side and look out of my window, trying to distract myself with brighter thoughts. Yet, I can’t remove Janette’s image from my head no matter how much I try to. And Alex… the boiling rage in me is too great to not confront him about her death. Oh no, I won’t let him lie again about that night.
After Yara parks the car, I go back inside the manor and head toward Alex’s study—which is where he is according to Stuart. My face remains as stoic as possible so not to raise suspicions while I cross the hallway and greet the rest of the staff. Then, standing in front of his door, I knock a few time, the rage in me nearly exploding.
I don’t hear anything, except footsteps approaching from the other side. To my surprise, Alex opens the door himself, and despite his beautiful smile and piercing blue eyes, I point at him and say, “We need to talk.” He steps aside, letting me in. There’s a clear air of confusion on his face from my tone, but I don’t drop my guard.
After he closes the door behind us, I can’t contain myself anymore and go straight to the point. “You lied to me again, didn’t you?” Although my tone is not too loud, the hate I have for him and his lies makes me want to scream.
Confused, he narrows his eyes and walks in my direction. “Are you alright? he asks calmly, trying to hold my shoulders to calm me down.
But I step back, my heart racing at how furious and mad I am at him. “You said it was a car accident!” Looking him in the eye, all I can feel for him right now is disdain and hate. “What a freaking liar! Of course, it was way more convenient, huh? An accident I could relate to!” Regardless of what he thinks of my behavior, it feels great to unleash everything I’ve kept inside. “It was way better than saying she died while you were fucking and chocking her out, huh?”
“She didn’t die from that.” To my surprise, Alex doesn’t even deny he was fucking and choking her. So Mom was really telling the truth? Fuck! I snicker at him, looking away to contain the urge to punch him. “She spent the entire night doing cocaine and taking other shit. She most likely died from an overdose.”
“And who drugged her?” I snap, glaring at him. “Who?”
“Your dad was one of them.”
I can’t contain the chuckle at his response. “My dad? Right, because I’m sure you weren’t doing the same.”
“We were all doing it. Janette liked to get high, and she was bat shit crazy.” I shake my head at how he tries to downplay everything, just like Dad did with Mom. “And I didn’t know it was her until I removed her mask.”
My brows raise up in surprise at the last part. “Wait—you were fucking a girl when you couldn’t even see her face?”
“It was a Masquerade party,” he says like it’s a valid reason. “I was twenty-one. A hot girl wants me, masked or not, I don’t care. Never in a million years did I think it was her.”
Despite his best attempt, I’m not convinced. I’m pretty sure Alex knew it was her, and this whole talk feels like he’s just trying to persuade himself of the contrary. “What kind of monster are you?” The question comes directly from my bleeding heart, and I don’t even know how to make it stop.
Alex steps closer to me, and tries again to touch me. But any gesture from him is unwelcome, so I move away just as fast. “Petra, that was twenty years ago,” he repeats, his voice smooth like butter. “It was just a party that went wrong.”
“Just a party that went wrong?” I snigger in disgust at his attempt to brush off what he did.
What a monster! What a freaking monster!
There are thousands of words I want to throw at him, but they aren’t words of forgiveness or peace. No, they are words of anger, words to hurt him as much as he hurt me with his lies. “You strangled an innocent woman who was under the influence of drugs. She couldn’t consent to absolutely anything you were doing. She was only seventeen for fucks sake!” I try to keep my gaze on him as I speak, but I can’t; all I see is a murderer. A man who took the life of a woman nearly my age and then hid her body like a coward.
Alex doesn’t show any remorse, instead he just shakes his head briefly, before saying, “She was perfectly aware and conscious the whole time. She consented to everything she was going through.”
I can’t even believe he’s trying to justify his cruel act; my gaze is on the floor, as I feel totally lost and drained. But I need to clear this whole thing before I decide what to do next, so I look up at him and say, “Mom told me you threatened her when you found out she reported you to the police. Is it true?” My eyes narrow at him and despite the will to cry from disappointment, I make the conscious effort to add, “And please, no more lies.” I observe him attentively; his eyes, his breathing, his facial expression, anything that can give me a clue if he’ll answer truthfully or not.
Alex breaks eye contact, draws out a breath and, looking me again in the eye, he says, “Yes, I might have advised her to stay out of it if she didn’t want to put herself in trouble.”
My heart freezes for a moment, and I instantly regret to have posed the question in the first place. No, it’s not the question I regret. I’d never regret knowing the truth. Truth only hurts because we don’t want those we love to disappoint us. And when they do, we would rather blame it on us for asking them than on their actions and lies. “You have no heart, do you?”
“Your mom is completely nuts!” he snaps back. “After the incident, your dad told her the whole story and she, his wife, went to the police and reported us!” He runs a hand through his hair, unsteady and angry. “It was none of her damn business.” Then he chuckles, shaking his head as he recalls those memories. “Your dad was a dumb idiot who trusted her way too much. She did it for revenge. That’s it.”
“I need some time alone,” I manage to pull out of my chest, between my strangled breaths. “I need to take some time alone, and, um, figure out if I can do this.”
“Do what?” he asks instantly.
My eyes slowly drift up from the floor to his, and despite the confusion on his face, I say, “Marry you.”
His lips part in astonishment, and I see how destabilized he is. “The wedding is Saturday!” Alex starts pacing around, lost in his own thoughts. Then he looks back at me and adds, “Your mom is just doing it on purpose.”
Oh, blaming my mom is a great strategy isn’t it?But instead I just say, “She’s risking her life to tell me things you never did! Things you lied about!”
“She’s creating further conflict between us,” he insists. “That’s what she wants.” I shake my head in disbelief as I watch him blaming others for his own mistakes. “And you’re just falling for it.” His tone is louder, more hurried, and laced with fear. Is it fear of losing me? Or fear of the unknown now that his lies have been exposed?
“And yet, we could’ve avoided all of that if you had told me the truth,” I reply back, despite feeling emotionally exhausted. “Sounds familiar, huh?”
“I told you Jan’s daughter died from an accident, and that’s the truth.”
“While you were fucking her makes a big difference,” I rebuke simply.
“Which is why I didn’t mention it.” His voice is now lower but carrying more honesty than I’ve ever heard. He’s just honest now because I unmasked his lies, I tell myself. Just like he did when I caught him and his edited audio file.
His office falls in a freezing silence as we both try to recover from the bruises we just inflicted on each other. Despite my best efforts, the more I look at him, the more I see him differently than before. And I’m not sure how I feel about it.
“What if I cancel the wedding?” My unexpected question breaks the cold air between us. Alex creases his brows as the gravity of the situation sinks into him. He then takes a few loud breaths, and with his eyes meeting mine, he says, “I’d be left… heartbroken.” His voice cracks with his final word.
“After breaking the hearts of so many women, I guess we could call it karma then.” My bitterness echoes around the room, but Alex remains mute, devoid of any will to reply. “I need to go.” Yes, I do need to go. I need to leave and take a step back to think about us and where we go from there.
I open the door, and as I’m about to step outside, I hear him from behind asking, “Are you leaving me?”
The sadness in his voice makes my heart reel. The reality we are trapped in hurts, but I don’t dare to turn around and look him in the eye. So instead, my head turning slightly toward my right shoulder, I mutter, “Yes.” And I do so, closing the door behind me.
I lock myself in my bedroom so as not to be disturbed and lie on the bed. There, I spend a few minutes replaying every word of our discussion, the seriousness of what he did, his lies to cover his crime… He said it was an accident, but what if he is still lying? What if Janette asked him to stop, and he didn’t? Fuck… The idea of it brings tears to my eyes, and the cruelty of everything makes me want to vomit. I need to leave this place; the air is so heavy and dense that it’s hard to breathe. I need to go somewhere new, somewhere far away from him and his family. I take out my iPhone and call Emma. As soon as I hear her voice, I say, “Pack your stuff, we are leaving.”
“What?” she snaps on the other side. “What happened?”
“We need to find a new place. I’ll explain everything once we get there,” I say.
“Alright, um, can you give me fifteen minutes?”
“Sure.” And I hang up.
I need to call the driver, but I’m too scared to step outside and see Alex again. So instead, I go and check the contact numbers of the staff that Margaret left on the nightstand. Finding the mobile number of Stuart, I call him immediately.
“Stuart?” I say as soon as I hear someone speaking on the other side.
“Oh, Ms Van Gatt, what can I do for you?”
Despite my loud beats and my anxiety rising, I put on my most polite voice and say, “Um, can you kindly call the driver? I need to go somewhere. It’s really urgent.”
“Of course. He should be ready in ten minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Before I can hang up though, Stuart adds, “Is everything alright, Miss?”
“Wonderful,” I breathe out and end the call.
Then, I open my bags and start emptying the wardrobes filled with my clothes. My moves are rushed, matching with my racing heartbeats, and I stack everything inside the bags as fast as I can. Then I go to the ensuite bathroom and take all my belongings in a hurry.
Once the bags are done, I call the butler again to make sure the driver is waiting at the entrance. Not even a minute later, Stuart is on my door ready to take my luggage.
Armed with courage, I cross the hallway and stop in front of Emma’s bedroom. After knocking a few times, she opens the door, and it’s wide enough for me to see her luggage standing beside her and ready to go.
“I’m not sure what are you up to, but if you go, I go,” she says just above a whisper.
I plunge her into a tight hug, and make the conscious effort to not let my tears fall. “Thank you.”
Then I help Emma with her bags until we stumble across Stuart and Clarissa who help us out.
The four of us rush to the main entrance in silence and I truly appreciate the fact they aren’t asking any questions. There, we find the door wide open and the car parked outside along with the driver waiting for us.
The driver opens the rear door, and we quickly slide into the back seats. We hear the sound of the trunk opening, and the staff putting the remaining luggage inside. Once I hear it close, I know we are ready to go and leave this place—and my fiancé—behind.
“Where are we going?” the driver asks as he sits in front.
Shit.I didn’t book any hotel yet. I grab my iPhone, but before I can do anything, Emma steps in and says, “Breitner House in Amsterdam, please.” Oh, looks like she had already booked something for us. “I booked it until Saturday,” she adds in a low voice.
Looking out of my window, I find Clarissa and Stuart standing on the sidewalk, smiling at me. Since I don’t see anyone around, I go out to give them a big hug, thanking them for everything, and tell them goodbye.