Deception.

~*~

"If I told you that Marc's wife is dead and buried there, would you believe me?"

My heart dropped upon hearing that.

"What? But he said that his wife was kidnapped, and he's trying to get her back by working for Sinister."

"He refused to believe that she's dead, Becky,"

"How are you so sure it's her then?"

"When I met Marc he was almost dead. This is not long after I came to your country for some work. I had attended a function. That same night, I heard some noises just outside the hall at the back door. When I got there it was almost too late. The woman was in a bad state, she was stabbed multiple times. Marc was bleeding to death but hugging her and begging for someone to save his wife. I saw the old man who did it but saving them was more important. I carried them to the hospital, but doctors couldn't save his wife, only Marc made it. He lost his memory of the incident but remembered making the deal with the Salvatores to get his wife back."

"Oh my god." I stood shocked at what he was telling me.

"I tried telling him what happened that night, to stop working for those people. He never listened to me. He still believes she's alive."

"And his child?"

"With the aunt. He tries to visit him every other week or whenever he could."

"This is awful." I frowned, "And didn't the old man try to kill him so why take him back to work for him?"

"They're just taking advantage of him. Marc is still traumatized, Becky.".

I couldn't believe this.

*You should get back inside, Marc's on his way here," James stated.

I sat on the sofa deep in thought. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to think about anymore.

"Are you always like this?" the sound of James' voice broke me out of my worry.

"Huh?" I turned to him as he sat calmly at the end of the island stool, drinking his coffee.

"You've been like that for fifteen minutes."

I somehow knew he wanted to laugh, but he restrained himself from doing so.

"How can you be so calm? Marc is in this mess, and we're just sitting here."

"Who's to say I'm not doing anything about it?" James replied.

Hearing that felt like a wave of relief washed over me somehow. Before I could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

"Novak, it's me," Marc called.

"Marc!" I ran up and hugged him as he came in.

"Hey kid, you alright?" he laughed, "Novak isn't that bad."

James sat back where he originally was and continued with his coffee, "Damn Marc, you came back so soon, I was supposed to torture her and feed her to Gonzo."

"Gonzo? Who's that?" I asked.

"Gonzo's our little woof, woof. " James gave a soft smile and showed me a picture of a huge fluffy black dog.

"Oh my gosh!" I beamed happily, "Where is he? Is he here? Can I play with him?"

"He stays with Marc's sister, not here."

"You guys," Marc sighed to get our attention. That's the moment I realized that my happiness was short-lived. I could not be happy as long as I'm involved with the Salvatores. When my smile faded, Marc noticed, "Hey it's not bad news, Kid."

"That's surprising." I scoffed, *Sure you got the right info?"

"Sinister's aware of your escape."

"And how is that good?"

"He left me in charge of finding you," Marc smiled, Plus he had to leave for a trip to Europe for a few days because of an important deal."

"Well the trust is real," James inserted, "Do you take sugar in your coffee? But yeah, that's great, we'll have more than enough time."

Throughout the day, James handled fixing the car while Marc was in and out. I stayed with James because Marc claimed it to be the safest place I could have been. Honestly, I wasn't going to complain as I was entirely grateful to these two.

"Wrench," James spoke as he looked into the car and stretched out his arm towards me.

"Rude. There's no need to be offensive." I scowled.

"Not wench, wrench. Hand me the tool at the side of your foot."

"Oh," I blushed with embarrassment, I am such a corn.

Giving him the wrench, I sighed.

"Marc brought your bags from the Sinister's, you can change into your clothes - well wear something nice tonight."

"What's tonight?"

Jimmy, Marc's son, it's his birthday. His sister invited us over, and we can't leave you alone here.'"

"I would rather not intrude on anyone, James."

"Martha's a lovely woman, I'm sure you'll both enjoy each other's company."

~*~

Quickly changing into a casual dress, I met with Marc and James who drove us to Martha's.

"So," I began, "I never got your son's name, Marc."

*Caleb, he's seven," Marc said with a smile.

"Oh, well, I can't wait to meet him."

"It'd be wise if Becky stays close," James interrupted, "Don't leave the diner without either of us."

"Diner?"

"Yeah, Marc's sister runs one downstairs."

It was not too long until we arrived at the corner of a busy street. The diner's lights were beautifully decorating the building and the atmosphere felt so homey yet so lively inside.

Oldies played on a recorder while the aroma inside smelt so heavenly. I felt like I went back in time. Customers laughed and drank happily while others had their food served by the

friendliest-looking employees. I sat on one of the swirly stools near the bar area while James sat on the one next to me. The urge to spin was eating me, but I had to keep my calm.

Marc excused himself through the kitchen door, probably to meet Martha.

Before I could say anything, one of the waitresses came and smiled happily towards us, "Ordering?"

I looked down at the menu and to be honest, I wasn't famished so I looked at the drinks sections and had to admit the names were so cute I just had to ask, "Oh what's the

Fabulous Fiona"?"

"Oh that contains peach and passion fruit," she smiled,

"And what about you, Mr. Novak? You should try the Hot-Shot' would more than likely suit you."

I couldn't help but notice the blush on the

young girl's face.

"No, thanks, I'm fine for now," James answered calmly.

"Are you sure? You look so stressed, Jamie." The girl stated, placing her hand on his.

"James." He corrected.

Something told me he wasn't interested, but I sat quietly and enjoyed it.

"Of course," she awkwardly left.

Now that I thought about it, he must get that from countless women. James had everything going for him, a perfectly sculpted facial structure that was probably defined by the Greek Gods themselves, yet there was this subtle softness to his face, not to mention the calmness of his blue absorbing gaze that would most likely pull any woman in and make them float on cloud nine. He had those perfect teeth and his hair was so thick and long and well-kept with a few strands falling out gracefully. Words seemed hard to define this man. He didn't need a suit and tie to make him beautiful. I wasn't sure how jeans and a black casual leather jacket could look so good on someone who honestly doesn't try to look good but just does.