I need the mental health hotline on speed dial.
Something shifts in his eyes, quick and dangerous, before he rips it back behind steel. “Why the fuck would you stay here, Sara?”
That's a fair question, and I don't have a reasonable answer.
“What is it you don’t understand about me doing my best to keep you away from me?” He asks another question I don’t seem to compute an answer for.
I swallow hard and force the words out anyway — I’m tired of him holding this power over me and acting with too many contradictions.
“Are you actually serious? You appear everywhere I look. You strip me, you save me, and then you treat me like dirt under your boot.”
“Let me ask you this, Sara. Did you think you had any advantages fucking my brother to show up at my doorstep today?” He narrows his eyes as he withdraws his arms to his side taking a step closer.
“I didn’t—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“You didn’t what? You definitely believe you’re entitled to my attention. You just keep asking for more of it.”
I was going to clarify that I sadly didn’t ‘fuck’ his brother but, whatever.
“Okay, well, which one is it, Liam? Am I supposed to be terrified of you or grateful?”
I walk closer to him, possessed by some courage I should bury inside. His jaw ticks. Silence thickens between us, his eyes shifting to my lips and back to my unyielding gaze.
“The former,” he grinds out. “That’s the only thing that’ll keep you alive around me.”
“Then stop looking at me like that,” I shoot back, my voice trembling but not weak.
For a second, something dark and volatile flares across his face with some anger, hunger and something I can’t name. I shiver but don’t look away.
“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” I mumble. “Every time you look at me, I feel like I’m standing on a cliff. Part of me is waiting for you to push, and the other part is waiting for you to catch me.”
I flick my hand in the air and walk past him to forget about all of this, but I’m yanked back to his hard chest in one quick motion, his gaze sharpening into me, digging his fingers into my arm.
He leans in until his breath grazes my cheek, and his proximity makes me tremble.
“Then here’s your warning. Don’t fucking lean too close. I won’t push you; I won’t catch you. You don’t exist to me.”
I don’t move, my pulse a war drum in my ears.I'm already leaning way too close,andhe looks too handsome for his own good. His face absolute beauty despite being a complete asshole and beneath it all, there’s pain dominating him. I know he is hurting, but I also know he is ruthless because of what that pain has taught him about surviving his own demons.
My throat closes, but the words force their way out. “Why did you kill him?”
His gaze sharpens. “Do you think I pulled that trigger because it felt good?” His voice is inquisitive with a scoff. “I don’t kill to kill, Sara. That man deserved it.”
My chest heaves, the truth rattles me even more than silence would have. “Deserved it? No one deserves—”
“Yes, people like him do.” He steps closer, making me stumble against the island, his chest pressing into me, eyes burning with something raw and dangerous.
“Men like him… they don’t stop. They don’t feel remorse. They don’t deserve to keep breathing the same air as you, and that says a lot. Believe it or not, Sara, I’m not as evil as you think.” His jaw flexes hard, as if he is holding back the rest. “That bullet isn’t murder. It’s justice.”
I stare at him, the first backhanded compliment he ever gave me, but I’ll take it. Even though it’s flat and merciless,I want to peel it freeand save it on a shrine.
Before I can blink away uninvited thoughts, the puppy I have longed to see again comes skidding across the tile.
“There you are!” I drop to my knees, freeing myself from Liam’s cage, letting the puppy’s warm tongue and clumsy paws climb up my thigh. My chest eases for the first time in hours. That puppy can’t have better timing. I mean would’ve saved me some hell if I had found him sooner but that's another one I have to file in the“I’m a big fat liar with my panties on fire” mental box.
Liam stands over us, silent, watching me touch his dog as if he isn’t sure whether the animal will keel over from my poisoned touch or whether he wishes he was the dog.
“What’s his name?” I ask, burying my fingers in the fur ball’s soft coat, grateful for the air between us lighting up. He looks like a white lab mix with a little black patch smudged across his nose.
