CHAPTER 28
Gianna
The doorbell chimesas I step into the cafe, its sweet ding announcing my arrival like a whisper against the soft murmur of conversation and clinking cutlery. "See you later. I'll wait in the car," Ailish says from behind me. I turn to her, hesitating. Something about her tone nags at me. Without thinking, I reach out and grab her hand. She stops and her gaze drops to my hand like it's something vile. Then she looks at me, and for a split second, I forget how to breathe.
Her expression is sharp, repulsed even, like I'd smeared her with something filthy. I instantly let go, pulling my hand back. "Why aren't you coming with me?" I ask, finding her behavior suspicious. She rolls her eyes, and I swear to God, in that moment, I want to smack her across the face.
"Do you need me to babysit you?" she snaps. "Liam is inside. I'll wait in the car." And with that, she turns and walks away. I face the cafe, taking a breath. The smell of baked treats fills my nostrils, vanilla, chocolate, cinnamon, and the strong scent of freshly brewed coffee. It smells like comfort and warmth and things I don't have time for. None of it soothes my anxiety.
I slowly pass each booth, my eyes scanning for Liam. Why would he want to meet in a place like this? So public. So... normal. The first booth holds a family. A man, a woman, and two bubbly kids. The children's laughter fills the air, loud and bright, like they don't know a thing about monsters in the world. I feel a pinch in my chest and force myself to keep walking.
I'm so distracted, I almost walk straight past a waitress. She's walking with a tray of pancakes and orange juice.
"I'm sorry," I say to her. She doesn't even glance at me, just pushes past. I sigh and keep walking, dodging tables and glancing towards each booth, my mind on so many things at once. Finn's face keeps flashing in my mind. His pain. His blood. The last look in his eyes as they dragged me away. I don't usually pray, and I don't believe in God, but I say a little prayer in my mind. I pray Finn is alive and well. Finally, I reach the last booth at the end of the cafe, half-tucked into a corner by the window, and there he is: Liam.
He's dressed casually in a navy blue hoodie and gray pants, one hand resting around a coffee cup, the other resting on his lap. He looks like any other man in his forties, but there's nothing normal about Liam.
His eyes lift to meet mine slowly before drifting to his wristwatch. "I was starting to think Declan had killed you," he says, raising his coffee cup to his lips to take a sip. I just stand there, still catching my breath from all the tension coiled inside me. He sets the cup on the table, the sound loud in my ears. Then he looks up again, this time more directly.
"Sit," he says, gesturing with his hand. "I've been waiting for you to arrive before ordering."
Usually, Liam's lack of sense of urgency and casual tone would grate on my nerves, irritate me, even, but I remind myself this is just who he is. He's the type who thrives on tension, who feeds off reactions. And right now, I can't afford to give him whathe wants. Not when Finn's life hangs in the balance. I glance behind me towards the cafe entrance before sliding into the booth, sitting opposite him.
He extends a hand holding a menu towards me, and I meet his eyes. He tilts it towards me again, and reluctantly, I take it. "They have really nice cakes here. Ailish often picks some for me when she's headed my way."
I still can't believe Ailish works for him. But then I'm not here for cakes and stories of Ailish. I stare at him a beat, then glance down at the menu, not really seeing the words.
"I'm really not hungry," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. He leans forward, elbow resting on the table. "I can guess why," he says, completely brushing off the tension radiating from my body. I clench my fist under the table, and I bite my lip.
Finn is going through all kinds of torture, and I'm sitting in a booth, listening to Liam talk about cake.Liam waves the waiter over. She arrives at our table, notepad and pen in hand, ready to take our order. "What would you like?" she asks, her high-pitched voice adding to my misery.
"I'll have the carrot cake," he says without looking up from the menu, and the lady turns to me. I don't know what to say because I didn't check the menu, and I'm not interested in cake. The lady gives me an awkward look at my silence. "She'll have the same thing," Liam says.
The waitress nods, scribbles on her pad. "I'll be right back."
"Thank you, sweetheart," Liam says as she turns away. I've had enough of this.
"You told us to return to Declan," I say, leaning forward. "Was this your plan?" I ask. He's acting too calm. He must have known this would happen.
He smiles. "Last time, Finn was the impatient one. This time it's you," he says, sipping his coffee. "You two must really care about each other."
I swallow, leaning back. "I do care about him, which is why I need your help. He's your brother," I beg, desperation evident in my voice. "Patience, girl," Liam says, and I bite my bottom lip. This is torture.
It feels like hours before the waitress returns. She sets the cake on the table before walking away. He picks up the fork and cuts into the cake before popping it into his mouth.
A low moan escapes him as he chews the cake. I painfully wait for him to finish the piece in his mouth. "What is your plan, Liam? I can't keep waiting for you." I lean forward. "You need me, just as much as I need you... So, let's talk."
He smirks, setting his fork down to give me his full attention. "Relax. Declan won't kill Finn. You, on the other hand, I can't guarantee your life."
"How are you so sure he won't kill him? You didn't see what I saw. Declan has every intent of killing him," I say, recalling everything that happened.
Liam nods, like he understands what I'm talking about. He has no fucking idea. His eyes remain on me, too calm for the chaos he's inviting into me. "Unlike the Italians, we don't kill our own. It's a rule," Liam says with a lazy shrug as if a single rule is supposed to bring me comfort. Surprisingly, it does, a bit. My shoulders ease, slightly, the weight of dread lifting an inch.
"He might just mess him up, here and there, but Declan doesn't dare kill him."
I close my eyes briefly, trying to breathe through the sharp stab in my chest. Mess him up. That's what he calls it. But I know Declan. I've seen the rage, his cruelty. He won't need to kill Finn to destroy him. He'll do it piece by piece, mind, body, and soul. And I can't bear that. I won't. "What do I have to do to save him?" I ask, my voice strained, thick with desperation.
Liam doesn't answer immediately. He cuts another bite from the slice of cake, sliding it onto his fork and popping it into his mouth. He chews slowly, deliberately. Then he finally speaks.
