Page 12 of His Kidnapped Irish Mafia Virgin

“No,” he said. The way he said it wasn’t mean, but it was clear that he wouldn’t change his mind. “We’re not going there.”

I frowned, confused. “I live five minutes away.”

“I know,” he said. Before I could ask him how he knew that, he continued talking. “Those men knew your name. They weren’t looking for a random person. They were looking for you. Until we know who they are and why they want you, I’m not taking you back to your apartment. They already know where it is.”

I stared at him, trying to find a reason why he was wrong. I wanted to tell him that the men must have mistaken me for someone or that there had to be another explanation, but every argument I thought of didn’t make sense. They’d said my name. I’d heard it clearly.

“Who are they?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” His honesty should have made me feel better, but it actually made me more scared. If Liam didn’t know who those men were, then we had no idea if they would come back tomorrow, in a week, or in an hour. He pointed to an SUV parked near us. “Come on.”

I hesitated. Everything I’d learned in life told me not to get into a car with a man I barely knew, no how much he’d just helped me. Another part of me thought that if Liam wanted to hurt me, he could have done it already.

Instead, he’d helped me without asking for anything in return. I hesitated for a few more seconds, and then I stood up slowly and followed him to the car without saying a word.

The drive was mostly silent. I watched as the streets I knew disappeared from view. After a few minutes it was clear we were going in a completely unfamiliar direction. My mind was clearer now, and I had questions that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answers to.

Liam kept both hands on the steering wheel, his attention fixed on the road. I found myself watching him.

I couldn’t explain it, but his presence was reassuring, just like the clean, warm scent coming from him. It was something I couldn’t quite place beneath the faint trace of the night air and whatever soap or cologne he used.

I noticed it only because I was sitting close to him. I quickly looked back out the window when he shifted in his seat. I didn’t want him to catch me staring.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Somewhere safe.”

I looked out the window even though there was nothing to see but empty streets. My home was behind us, and so was the sense of security I’d worked hard to build over the years. I held my bag tightly and rested my forehead against the cool glass.

The car slowed down before a pair of iron gates that opened without Liam needing to get out of his seat. We drove along a driveway lined with old trees on both sides until a big house came into view. It was huge, private, and far away from the road. Nobody walking down the street could see much of the house through the gates.

There were lights on in some of the windows, which made the house seem warm and cozy, but I still felt uneasy.

Liam parked the car and opened my door. I stepped out onto the driveway, my legs feeling wobbly after everything that had happened.

He held out a hand. I stared at it for a second before placing mine in his. His fingers closed around mine, firm and warm, and something inside twisted. It was ridiculous. He was helping me out of a car; that was all. I pulled mine away a little quicker than necessary.

I looked around, but I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. The quiet here felt different from the silence outside my apartment. There were no cars driving by, no people talking, and no footsteps except for ours as Liam walked me to the door.

The inside of the house was comfortable and not too fancy. A lamp was on in the living room. A fridge hummed in the kitchen. It felt like a home, not a place to hide, but I couldn’t forget that I didn’t belong here. I held my bag tightly with both hands as I looked at Liam.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I know that’s not enough. You saved my life.”

Liam’s face softened a little. “You don’t owe me anything.”

We stood there for a moment, looking at each other. I’d seen his face under the lights and noise of the bar, but this was different. He looked tired, human. And somehow that made him more difficult to look away from.

“I think I would like to go home,” I said.

“No,” he said firmly. I was surprised by how commanding he sounded.

“I’ll be careful,” I said. “I’ll lock my door, and I won’t leave until I go to work tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t be fine,” Liam said. I looked at his face, hoping he would change his mind. He did not. “They knew your name,” he continued calmly. “They were looking for you. Until I know who they are and what they want, I’m not taking you back to your apartment.”

Everything Liam said made sense, which made it hard to argue. Part of me wanted to leave because I wanted to make my own decisions, but another part of me remembered the men who’d tried to take me, and that part was scared. The room was quiet for a moment.

I looked at the door, wondering if Liam would move aside and let me leave if I tried to move past him. He just stood there, calm and sure of himself.