But it’s too late. The door swings open, and Brett’s voice is closer now, confused and wary.
“Who the hell are you?”
“A friend.” His Irish rolls, smooth as honey. “And you are?”
“Brett. I’m Elexia’s boyfriend.”
“Hmm,” Liam muses. “She’s mentioned you.” Oh, God, did he readthoseparts in my diary? “But ye forgot to add the ‘Ex, lad.”
A long, tense pause twists my stomach into knots.
“Where is she?” Brett demands.
“Indisposed at the moment. But I’m sure she’d love to see you. Come in.”
What on earth is he doing?!
Footsteps close in toward my bedroom.
Mortification fills me. This cannot be happening.
The door swings open.
Brett stands in the doorway, his jaw slack, shock written all over. He’s exactly as I remember—sandy blond hair gelled back, a polo shirt tucked into khakis, loafers polished to a shine. He could be a country club catalog model. Clean-cut. Respectable. He’s anything but.
But he is utterly, completely stunned. He zeroes in on my handcuffed wrists, and his face turns red.
“Lex. What the?—”
“This isn’t what it looks like!” I blurt out, my cheeks aflame.
Liam steps past Brett with such easy confidence, it swirls desire inside me. He crosses to the bed and smooths a curl away from my cheek. A gesture tender, deliberate, andpossessive.
“Oh, I assure you,” Liam rumbles low, “it’s exactly what it looks like.”
I wince, groaning. “Ugh?—”
Brett’s hands clench into fists. His face is mottled red now, his jaw tight. He glares at Liam. “Lex, Dollface, if you need me to, I’ll?—”
“Ye don’t want to be threatening me, lad.” Liam’s voice turns to black ice. His posture shifts like a predator coiling to strike. “I know people who’d be very interested in your recent activities. One phone call, and you’ll wish a restraining order was the least of your worries.”
Brett’s mouth snaps shut. Uncertainty flickers across his face as his eyes dart between Liam and me.
“Brett, just go.” I stab out my chin, lips pressed. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“The lady told you to leave, Brett boy.” His tone goes flat as stone. “See yerself out, or I’ll be doin’ it for ye.”
I throw my ex a daggered look. “You’re in my apartment, Brett. The restraining order makes it clear. Not within 600 feet of me or my apartment.”
He shrugs, weak and pathetic. “It ends tomorrow. Figured we could pick up where we left off.”
The words hit me like a slap. Pick up where we left off? After everything he put me through?
“Ye won’t be picking her up anywhere,” Liam warns, low and lethal. “Or they’ll be picking up your body parts. Now, get out.”
Brett is a coward. And cowards don’t stand their ground when faced with someone like Liam Donovan. Despite the current circumstances, I must admit, I’ve never been more grateful to have a mafia boss here to protect me.
