One path was certain: losing Liam would extinguish me; it would leave me for dead. I’d surrender to the tricky shadows beckoning to engulf me into an undercurrent abyss that is dark within cold depths where peaceful ripples would soothe. Just one taste of the saltiness of regret and grief filling my lungs… But then comes the determination when air is too vital, igniting a spark of resilience. So,I wouldtake that one deep breath to keepmeswimming higher and higher, although without him, I wouldn’t have the strength to resurface. I wouldn’tfindthe determination to survive. And that was dangerous. Exceedingly dangerous.
The room is a blur of motion as my thoughts tangle with the sharp reality of what we are about to do. This is about Joe. This is about returning girls home. This is about getting answers and making a difference in a village that I won’t allow obscure pieces of shit to take away the very essence of my home.
Liam's fingers are steady around mine, his grip tightening as he leans close, his breath warm against my cheek.
“This will keep us connected,” he says, voice low as he slips the small earbud into my ear, tucking it beneath my hair with surprising gentleness. “I'll hear everything. If anything feels wrong, anything at all, just say the word and we'll pull you out.”
I nod, trying to ignore how his touch sends electricity dancing across my skin. An earbud connecting us was an irony. They say making love is like crossing a bridge; you can never fully go back to who you were after giving a fragment of your body. I gave apiece of my soul to Liam, and he gave me a piece of his, a newly learned language. One I can’t imagine ever not wanting to learn more of its ways to become closer and closer to him with each passing day.
My eyes widen. “I thought you destroyed this,” I whisper as he withdraws the necklace from his pocket—the very one Charles had given me. His jaw tightens as he unclasps it.
“I was going to.” Liam admits, his voice rough. “After the jacuzzi, when I...”
He doesn't finish the thought. He doesn't need to. The memory of his hungry mouth against mine, water splashing around us as he'd claimed me with such desperation flashed through my mind like lightning.
“It's your way in,” he says, eyes darkening. “But I hate seeing his mark on you.”
“It's just a prop,” I whisper.
“It’s more than that”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I showed it to Damien. He remembered a few girls we’ve saved wearing distinctive poker games themed pendants. After tonight, the only mark you’ll ever wear on your skin is my teeth and the trace of my fingers.” He pauses, his thumb grazing my lower lip. “You’re so beautiful.”
My breath hitches, a wave of gratitude for this man. He’s exhausted, and I’m on edge, but determination roams freely. Unapologetically.
Artemis stumbles out of the bathroom, her damp hair flying off her shoulders as she flicks her long locks draping over her elegant purple dress as if she was heading to just another party in town.
Meanwhile, I feel like I have cat fur stuck in my throat. I’m not sure how much Damien told her about everything, but I was verysurprised when he said Artemis would be the one coming with me.
The door swings open with a soft click, and Damien steps in, his eyes immediately finding Artemis. His expression freezes, something flickering behind those dark eyes that I can’t read, and the room shrinks around us as he stands there, one hand gripping the doorframe. “You look...” he begins, then clears his throat. “The dress works.”
Artemis shifts confidently under his gaze.
Damien reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out another necklace. “You'll need this.” He extends it towards Artemis.
“Are you sure about this? We can send someone else with her,” Liam asks Damien.
Artemis raises an eyebrow. “I can handle myself.”
Liam's eyes narrow, his body tensing beside me as his hand possessively finds my lower back.
“This isn't about your capabilities. These people are dangerous and it's beyond what you're imagining.”
Damien lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Relax, she's got training.”
“Training?” I echo, looking between them. The casual way Damien references this sends alarm bells ringing through me.
“What is he talking about?” I ask Artemis.
“She knows how to handle a blade. I’ve seen her handle one firsthand.” Damien notes with a shrug, his eyes never leaving Artemis.
Liam watches them and swallows a laugh.
“We’re good though.” Damien rakes his fingers through his hair, a muscle in his jaw jumping as the inked designs stretching across his neck shifts with each tense swallow, and Artemis gives him a glacial hazel glare.
Once in Liam’s Jeep, the only comfort I feel are his fingers resting in between my thighs. I stare back at him, his forearm gripping the wheel, and it does something inexplicable. A heat in my stomach like a string sowing me back together.
