Locatlie: The Lie. (Book 5)

Prologue

For years I had dreamt of the day where I could speak to my mother, with both of us knowing that I was her daughter. For years I had dreamt of being held by my mother, her telling me she loved me and that I was safe. That I was home. For years I had dreamt of today.

I opened my eyes wider as I heard the words. "They have been arrested and will stand trial internationally for their crimes, you are safe now." I could not believe it. I did not understand it either. Everything was a mess in my mind. I was conflicted. I was happy that I finally felt my mother's touch, but at the same time I wanted to be back with my husbands, save them, protect them in the same way they saved and protected me.

I looked sideways at my mother and the identical grey eyes were looking into mine. She had the same round face, but different bone structure as I had. She had blonde straight hair that was currently in a bun on the top of her head. Her fuller lips were slightly parted as she waited to hear what I would say. But what could I say?

I had been held hostage for eight years, forced to forget everything I knew about my previous life. In those eight years I held onto the idea that one day I would be where I was right now; with my mother. For eight years I wanted to be safe, back home with my family, living a free life. For eight years I wanted to be anywhere but where I was. But then I met them, my future husbands.

William, with his green eyes and a smile that would break anyone's heart. The most calm and rational person I had ever met in my life. The most intelligent and insightful man. William, whom understood me when nobody else would. William, whom loved me for the good and the bad that I had done. William, whom would protect me at any cost. William, whom called me 'love' because there was no other way to describe our relationship. William, the most loyal and loving man in this world. The leader king of Locatlie, the most powerful man in the country

Hugo, with his brown eyes. Eyes that made me forget any pain that I have been through, even if it was him that was causing the pain. Hugo, whom had not wanted to be with me in the beginning of the Process. Hugo, whom had cheated on me with the girl he wanted to be the queen. Hugo, whom had impregnated another woman. Hugo, whom understood me like no other, whom could look into my eyes with his brown and right away know what I was thinking and feeling. Hugo, whom knew within seconds of me finding out myself, that I was pregnant. Hugo, whose touch lit me aflame. Hugo, whom had difficulty with understanding my 'grey monster' and yet tried every time she came out to understand it.

Trevor, with his ocean blue eyes. His touch that made me forget anything bad that had happened to me. Trevor, whom had wanted to be with me since we first met in the Process. I had not taken him as a King seriously and treated him just like another person. Trevor, whom was misunderstood and only defined by his psychotic needs. Trevor, whom loved my grey monster and made me want to be the best version of myself for him. Trevor, whom was equally as obsessed with me as I was with him. Trevor, whom would hurt someone for even looking at me in the wrong way.

The moment that I met them everything changed. At first, I had held onto the need and want to be back with my parents. I had tried to manipulate them but, in that process, I had fallen madly and deeply in love with each of them. I had fallen in love with their laughter, their patience, their loyalty, their protectiveness. I had fallen in love with my captures.

Even when foreign invaders in Locatlie had taken me hostage and promised me that I would get back to my mother, I had said I didn't know what they were talking about. At that time, I stated that it was because their plan would never work. But deep down I knew it was because I could not be without them.

I knew it was wrong of me to have fallen in love with my captors. I had struggled with that in the beginning. But after a year I had let go of that struggle, especially after I had given birth to my first child. To my little Oliver, whom the world had no idea excised. To my little Oliver, whom lit me up with his giggles his touch. They had given me a purpose in life, apart from serving and loving them.

Yet, I was laying here in the hospital after getting shot by foreign invaders, holding onto the hand of my mother. The moment I got little Oliver in my hands; I realised the pain that my mother must have gone through to have me taken. To not be able to hold me, to love me, to look at me. For the past week, when I was in the United Kingdom for the largest summit in history, we had decided to keep Oliver at home. I missed him with each passing day, and the idea that my mother had to wait over ten years to hold onto me, made me feel for her.

My mother repeated to me that I was safe now, that my husbands were arrested. This statement conflicted me though. She implied that I had not been safe with my husbands before. Yes, I had been taken by foreign leaders. Yes, if I seriously disobeyed our marriage I would be locked up and have my mind cleansed. But deep down I knew that Trevor could never hurt me. William could never make that decision. Hugo would never do anything else to hurt me anymore, after he broke my heart a mere month ago. I was safe in Locatlie, I was safe with my husbands. But they weren't safe right now. They were in a prison somewhere, probably being interrogated in the worst possible way.

My mind went to Gotar, the prison in Locatlie, where Trevor ran the show. He was the master interrogator, and he loved doing it. He loved inflicting pain on the wrong, he loved the puzzle of finding out information and using that to his advantage. He saw it as a game, he was the torturer, and the tortured person had to tell him everything or he could do whatever he wanted with that body. But now he was probably on the other side of the torture game.

But then I thought of what my mother said, my mother told me that there would be a public trial. They would have to defend themselves in public, so they could not hurt my husbands in a horrendous way, for whenever they had to testify.

I looked sideways at my mother whom had waited to see me for ten long years, and her eyes met mine again. There were tears in her eyes and she was nervous. She was curious about what I would say, about how I would act.

The last time my reunion with my parents was discussed, I had told my husbands that the only way I would want to have contact with my parents, was if I could still be with them. But right now, I could not do that, my husbands were locked up for crimes they did commit, but I did not mind. My mother was on the other side, believed the worst of them. She believed all the lies the media told about Locatlie, and I could not let that happen. Not only for my own mental well-being, as without my husbands I would slowly spiral into insanity. But also, for my husbands, they needed me now more than ever. And my son, my baby boy Oliver with the cheeks. If I had any chance of being back with him, I would have to start the plan that Hugo and I discussed in depth for if this situation ever happened.

And once again I found myself having to manipulate the people that wanted what was best for me. I once again had to put on a performance of a lifetime. I once again had a mission. And that mission started with the words "No. Whatever they are accused of, I can explain. It's all a misunderstanding. Believe me." I wanted to say more, but I could not; as my body was in so much pain that the pain medication made me fall back into unconsciousness.