Poker Face ✔

Chapter 4

The heat was the first thing that I noticed once I regained consciousness. At first, I struggled to move but after a few seconds, I was able to open my heavy eyes and get a clear view of my surroundings. The concrete covered room was medium sized. In front of me was a large tinted window that reminded me of an interview room at a police station. There was also a dirty toilet in the corner. I knew exactly where I was. I was in one of my family's holding rooms in the basement of our mansion. That's where we keep hostages and family members who get out of line.

"Seriously" I managed to say attempting to stand onto my own two feet. "You're keeping me in a holding room?"

I knew there would be someone on the other side of the glass. The only mystery was who.

"Well, you chose to escape from the safe house" I heared a muffled voice say through the microphone.

Their voice had gone through a sound manipulator, so the only way of knowing whom I was talking to, was by recongizing their speech patterns.

"How long am I here for?" I asked, staring at my own reflection through the tinted window.

"As long as it takes for it to get through your thick skull that you need to stay out of this"

"So what am I supposed to do, huh?" I pressed my palms against the concrete walls for support, "Let my dad get himself into more trouble?"

I had no idea what trouble my father was in, but I knew that it had to be serious if they weren't telling me what was going on.

"Ta you're just going to make things worse!" The voice cried, "And get yourself killed in the process"

"If that's what it takes" I clenched my jaw.

My mouth was still numb, so talking was a struggle. I was drooling like a damn toddler.

"What are ya mad?" The person yelled, "you're gonna die for em! You're really gonna die for em!"

And then I remembered the man that saved me or at least tried. Gabriello was shot in Paris. He was shot in the chest by my family. Gabe protected him from his family, but I couldn't do the same for him.

"He's my father" I gritted my teeth, compelling my saliva to fly through the air.

"He's a grown man kid," the voice says, "if he can get himself in trouble, he can get himself out it"

I agreed with that statement.

"Okay then tell me" I started, "what's so special about this time? Why aren't any of you telling me what's going on this time?"

"Cause it's not your job to fix this!" The voice shouted.

"I'm gonna get him out of it! You guys can't keep me here!" I yelled, glaring dangerously at the window, "I mean you get me with a sedative, not once but twice and take me to Norway of all places! Then you chain me up like a dog! And now you throw me in one of your holding cells and treat me like a criminal in my own home!"

"Finished?" The voice asked.

I had been studying the person's speech patterns during the conversation and I've come to the conclusion that there were multiple people behind the glass.

"Chace, Michael, Aunt Kat and Uncle Nate's in the room but hasn't spoken into the microphone" I smiled mischievously "so if we're done playing games, I would like to be released right now"

It was quite simple really. Aunt Kat calls me kid, Chace calls me Ta and asks if I'm finished whenever I ramble. Michael is always super intense like when he said get it through your thick skull.

With Uncle Nate, he's always in the room when he's concerned or interested about the person in holding.

After that, no one said anything — for hours. They must have realized that nothing they say could change my mind. I mean he is my father and they just expected me not to do anything.

What the fuck is wrong with these people? Don't they get it? I need to help him.

It was several hours later when I could hear someone playing around with the microphone.

"Hey, Rina" the robotic voice greeted, "Uncle Nate says we're not allowed to talk to you but-"

"You couldn't resist" I smirked, "hey Chris...is Zac with you?"

Chris is my cousin, the son of my dad's brother Donny, and he's the only one who calls me Rina, well besides my father. Zac is my dad's brother Jason's son and Chris's partner in crime (literally).

"Hi, Taylor" Zac greeted.

I could imagine Chris spinning around at the desk chair while Zac attempted to settle him.

"Hello, boys. By any chance, can you two get me out of here?" I asked, sitting myself up against the wall.

"Uncle Nate forbids us," they tell me, "he said that if someone lets you out we'll lose our limbs"

"But he never said anything about helping you break yourself out," Zac said in his regular voice from the other side of the door as sliding a paperclip underneath, "good luck Taylor"

"Thanks, boys," I nodded, picking up the clip.

The boys must have left after that because I didn't hear another word from them.

I quickly picked the lock before opening the door .I poked my head through the small gap, searching the hallway with my eyes. No one was in sight to my surprise.

Strange. I mean I'd assume that there would be someone in sight at all times. Unless Zac and Chris were on 'Taylor duty' but decided to turn a blind eye.

When I realized that the hallway was clear, I left the holding room and began walking. After a few minutes, I finally found a window at the end of the hallway. All I had to do was push it open and climb my way through the gap.

Once the fresh air hit my warm face, I ran. I couldn't risk going back into my home, so I ran to the side of the Mansion where I found a rusty shovel. I began digging as fast as I possibly could like my life depended on it. I was digging for ten minutes before I found a dark blue duffel bag, stained with dirt.

I grabbed the bag and ran to the mansions front gate. I carried the duffle bag across my left shoulder to the right side of my hip. I placed my hands into the cold black bars and pushed myself up.

Before I knew it, I was on the other side, looking back at my family home. I watched as more lights in my home turned on and the people inside began to panic.

I ran down on the sidewalk with my duffle bag, heading for the airport. The duffle bag contained up to fifty thousand dollars in cash, a handgun, passports, two sets of fake ID (one male, one female) and makeup/contact lenses, four sets of unisex clothes and wigs to allow anyone to fit the descriptions on the passports.

My family would expect me to be on the first flight to Paris but that's exactly what I won't be doing. I have to be smart. I need to be five steps ahead.