2. Liam
Chapter 2
Liam
S omething had him by the neck.
He could feel his lungs burning even in his sleep. He fought against the feeling, arms struggling to listen to his brain as he tried to lift them high enough as panic set in.
Vicious barking sounded, deep and bassy, and something started scrabbling against his side.
Liam’s mind was still sleep-hazy and unfocused, but the survival instinct was strong in him. Always had been. He pushed his fingers between his neck and whatever was wrapped around it, tugging as he gasped for air. He managed to loosen the hold enough to gulp in some oxygen before his arms gave out and the chokehold intensified again.
The barking grew in volume and then something else was tugging at the constriction for him, sharp yanks along with the sound of tearing fabric and growling.
His eyes snapped open and all traces of sleep left him as his dark bedroom came into view. The stained, spotted ceiling, the bare walls, his camera in the corner, and then the muscled shadow of King next to him. The pit bull had the whites of his eyes showing as he tried his best to help him.
The fabric ripped in half from King’s strong jaws and Liam lurched upright, coughing and gasping for air as he scrambled from the bed to the floor. King whined and followed, butting into his space and nosing at him in concern before sending a couple more growls and barks toward the bed.
Liam wrapped King’s stout body in his arms to soothe him as much as take comfort for himself, running his fingers over his short white coat. He could feel his rapid heartbeat under his ribs.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay,” he chanted hoarsely as he stared over at the ripped beige fabric that was once the scarf he’d tossed over his bedpost because he was too lazy to hang it up, which now lay inert and innocuous on the bedsheets.
Like it hadn’t just tried to get him in a chokehold.
As the panic began to ebb with the slowing beats of his heart, he sighed. He could feel that his neck was already tender, but at this point, it was becoming scarily easy to normalize what had just happened.
“Another one to add to the list,” he mumbled.
He got up from the floor, and King jumped up at him, pawing like he wanted him to stay down and protected under him.
He cupped King’s large head, stroking his thumbs over his jagged ears. “It’s okay, my King. We just need to get rid of it.”
The digital clock on his bedside showed it was approaching seven in the morning.
He grabbed his robe from the dresser and slid it on over his naked body as he walked to the window to open his curtains for some light.
Only he’d forgotten something important.
The fabric was like iron under his fingers and wouldn’t give an inch no matter how hard he pulled, or in what direction.
“That’s right.” He gave a humorless laugh. “They got cursed closed last week.”
He closed his eyes to fight back the sting in them, feeling King nose the back of his knee like he was trying to offer some solace.
Was he going to break now? After everything he’d fought through. Endured. Overcome.
He’d dealt with this for years.
No one understood the meaning of the word ‘cursed’ better than him.
He’d been cursed since birth, it seemed like. Carried them around like chains dragging behind him since he was old enough to walk, unable to outrun them as he grew older. It didn’t matter where he went or what he did; they showed up again.
They always did.
He was so tired of fighting an invisible enemy he didn’t understand. Being forced to participate in a game he’d never agreed to join.
He was exhausted.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Liam opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder as King took a new stance facing the door, growling.
He wasn’t expecting anyone, especially this early.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The knocking wasn’t forceful or aggressive, but it sounded insistent.
He clutched the ties of his slinky robe in his hands as he skirted the bed carefully and walked out of the bedroom, eyeing the worn brown door a few paces away.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
His visitor wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
He padded over, King tight on his heels like a shadow. He turned the key in the lock and opened the door on the latch, just enough to look through the slit, eyes going wide and breath getting stuck in his throat when he recognized the person standing in front of him.
Fix
The cursebreaker.
He was impossible to forget.
Tall, tattooed, and built like a truck. The streaks of silver at his temples and peppered throughout his beard were still just as attractive as they had been the first time he laid eyes on him. Thick lips that were made to kiss, heavy eyebrows that framed kind blue eyes, and the muscles…well…he’d just say that the red plaid shirt and plain denim jeans Fix was wearing were barely holding on at their seams, leaving Liam tightly holding on to his so he didn’t unravel at the sight of him.
Why? Because Liam wanted a daddy.
There was something about that dominance and the promise of safety and endless affection that drew him in like a helpless worm on a hook. It had never ended up going well for him. He had a terrible and complicated history that had left him worse off every time, yet he fell into the trap over and over with men who never turned out to be good, searching for what he needed but never finding it.
Liam had no idea if Fix was even remotely into that sort of thing, but he exuded everything he’d ever dreamed about. Something inside Liam viscerally reacted to the aura this cursebreaker emanated.
He looked reliable.
He looked powerful.
He’d also blown him off.
King barked as if underlining this shot of reality, warning him not to walk willingly into the predator’s mouth once again.
Fix looked down to spot King at his knee and quickly flicked his eyes back up when all he met was the sliver of Liam’s bare legs. Liam felt a shiver run through him, even from that brief glance.
“What are you doing here?” he found himself asking.
The cursebreaker cleared his throat and met his gaze squarely. “I wanted to apologize.”
Liam was shocked silent for a good few moments. “Apologize?”
“You came looking for me to help you the other day and the circumstances were…difficult. And when you didn’t leave your information or come back, I felt responsible.”
A mixture of hope and hurt swirled in Liam’s chest like a spin wheel—he didn’t know where the arrow was about to land.
That he had sought Fix out for help was an anomaly in the first place, and his rejection had cemented what Liam had already known.
He only had himself.
But…here the man was.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
Fix grimaced, scratching his beard sheepishly. “That’s the other thing I need to apologize for. I asked Cane if he knew anything about you since I first met you at the ring. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but I was worried for your safety.”
Liam’s heart fell to the doormat as panic crawled its ugly fingers up his spine.
Cane knew who he was? What else did he know? He couldn’t possibly know everything. He couldn’t…not after all this time running from it.
“If this is a bad time, I can come back tomorrow,” Fix offered when Liam didn’t say anything back. “Or the next day. Whatever works for your schedule.”
Liam tried to push the hysteria away, telling himself that if Fix did know, then he wouldn’t be standing here. “I dealt with it, it’s fine.”
The lie rolled off his tongue easily, a defense mechanism that was well worn and practiced.
Fix frowned, bushy brows meeting in the middle. Liam tried not to let his dissatisfaction affect him. “Did you contact another cursebreaker agency to break it?”
“Uhhh…yes. Yes. They came right over, so you’re good to leave.”
“But your name isn’t logged in our database. I checked.”
Liam was panicking now, blurting out, “I used a fake name.”
“You need a valid ID,” Fix countered. “It’s standard practice.”
“I have a fake one of those too.”
He slammed his lips shut, wishing he could seal them.
Fix paused. “Are you admitting a crime to me?”
If only he knew.
“Didn’t you admit one to me earlier?” he said, trying to sound tougher than he felt. He lifted his chin. “You got my personal information from a known criminal.”
Fix let out a short laugh, appearing surprised by the bite back. “You’re absolutely right. I guess we’re at a stalemate then.”
“I guess so,” he murmured, knowing that in reality Fix had all the advantage. Liam was one alpha-like grunt from falling at his feet. “So why don’t we call it even and leave it there.”
Fix shoved his hands into his pockets like he was getting comfortable instead of gearing up to exit.
“What’s the name?”
“W-what?” Liam stuttered.
“The fake name you used,” Fix said slowly, eyes so intent on his face Liam was sure it was about to go up in flames. “What is it?”
“That’s private.”
“You agreed to a release of personal information with Nexus when you hired a cursebreaker. It’s so we can use it to reference past cases and help break new ones.” Fix was silent for a moment, eyes twinkling. “Unless, of course, you didn’t sign anything like that?”
“You don’t even know what the curse was, so how would you need it for reference?” he asked weakly.
“You’re right, I don’t,” Fix conceded easily. “And your business is your business. I’d never want to invade your privacy more than necessary. But like I said earlier, I really do feel responsible for your case. Do you mind if I take a look around, at least? Just to make sure everything is good. Think of it like a follow-up.”
“I…”
He didn’t have another excuse handy, and his resolve was weakening in the face of Fix’s repeated assertions and seeming sincerity.
He did look sorry. More than that, he looked concerned for Liam, and that had him a little weak-kneed.
He chewed on his lower lip for a moment.
“I’ll just keep coming back,” Fix said.
It wasn’t said in a threatening manner, but there was a steel undertone that left no room for doubt and made him shiver.
Liam was unlatching the door in the next second.
King was barking in the one after that.
Liam grabbed him by the collar, urging his anxious figure away from the door so Fix had room to get in.
He entered cautiously, eyeing King but not looking especially terrified by the deep barks. Which was sort of a first. King was intimidating. As much of a lovebug as he was, Liam was under no illusions about how people perceived him and his breed in general.
He grabbed King’s starry blue character harness from its hook by the door and slipped it on him so he could get a better hold on him with his leash. On the very rare occasions he had anyone over, he’d usually put King in the bedroom to ease his anxiety, but today that wasn’t an option. He didn’t want King getting hurt when he was unsupervised.
“I’m sorry,” Liam said over the barking once he had him hooked up, trying to stroke King to soothe him. “He’s like this with everyone. He’s very protective of me and wary of new people entering our space. He wouldn’t ever do anything.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to worse, you’ll just have to trust me on that. I’m glad you have something protecting you at least,” Fix said, thumbing over his shoulder, expression turning perplexed. “Did you know that the lock on your building is broken?”
Liam nodded, straightening up when the barks settled to low whines and growls. His robe slipped from his shoulder in the process, the ties having loosened when he bent over. He quickly caught it, eyes catching Fix’s as they ran over the exposed skin before he looked away again.
There was desire there, hidden under the veneer of respect—Liam was trained to pick it out.
Did Fix think he was pretty?
He hated that he wanted the answer to be yes.
He was used to men wanting him, desiring him, taking him. He’d never had a man turn his head before. He wanted to ask why. Maybe Fix didn’t think he was pretty. Maybe there was nothing about Liam that would be appealing to someone like Fix.
He wrapped King’s leash around his wrist and quickly double knotted the tie on his robe, swallowing the self-loathing. “It’s been that way for months. The door.”
Fix risked a look back and only fully turned when he saw Liam was fully clothed again. “Isn’t there a building manager you can call?”
Liam couldn’t even laugh. “It’s not that sort of building.”
Fix pressed his lips together for a second before glancing around them.
Liam tried not to feel self-conscious. His apartment was run-down and old, but it was all he could afford. And Liam did whatever he could to make it seem like a home. The first one he’d ever truly had.
The tiny living room they were standing in held a vintage, floral sofa Liam had saved from a garage sale and cleaned as best as he could. He’d thrifted some fluffy throw pillows to match and a nice knit blanket that kept him warm despite the frayed edges.
Across from it, he’d managed to tuck a small shelving unit and display the little hand-painted figurines he collected. They were his favorite comic book characters and ones he liked to cosplay as when he managed to save enough money for fabric and other materials.
Next to the shelf he had a dingy desk with an old sewing machine on it. After his camera and laptop, that machine was his most prized possession. He was in love with it.
So it wasn’t much, but it was his and he was proud of it.
“I’ll, uh, go get something more appropriate on,” Liam said.
Fix’s eyes were a flash bomb of that same desire—there one minute, burning hot, then extinguished the next second with polite respect. “Absolutely. I dropped in on you unannounced, so take all the time you need.”
Liam dithered on the spot, his feet not wanting to move away from the man. It was downright humiliating.
“Is there a problem?” Fix asked, and Liam jumped in place, shaking his head.
“No…I just…” He trailed off, because what? What was he about to say that wasn’t completely dumb and pointless?
Fix’s expression softened slightly, and he smiled at Liam before jerking his chin toward the door.
“Go get dressed,” he said, and Liam’s knees went weak. His body turned against his will, half of it heading to the door, the other half glued to the scuffed flooring.
He looked like he was about to trip over his own feet and he needed a save…quick.
“My scarf tried to murder me in my sleep and I left it on the bed,” he word-vomited mid-flail, instead of admitting he was torn between obeying the man and refusal to leave his presence.
The result was less than smooth. Especially for someone who made a living out of being smooth. In more ways than one.
Fix immediately went stiff-backed, shoulders squaring.
It was hot as hell.
He didn’t ask him to repeat it, he just acted, moving past him. King went crazy with barking again, seeing Fix invading their territory further. Liam tried to hush and calm him, only to watch Fix slow as he reached the open bedroom door.
He looked back at Liam. “Is that the only curse in here?”
“That’s the one that matters,” Liam said. “I can handle the others.”
“You can…” Fix trailed off, clouds passing over his face before he shook his head. “Liam, be honest with me. You have multiple curses on you at the moment?”
His voice and gaze said he already knew, in whatever cursebreaker way he had, what the answer was. There was some censure there too. Disappointment at his lie that Liam didn’t know how to handle. It made him want to tug at him for forgiveness.
Liam flushed, rubbing his ankle with his other foot. “Yes.”
“How many?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Liam lifted his chin, fighting his need to gain Fix’s approval. “Like I said, I can handle them.”
Fix didn’t look happy about that, and Liam’s insides squirmed.
“You didn’t find another cursebreaker, did you?” Fix asked.
“I…”
“The truth, Liam. Please.” He said it in that tone of voice again, and Liam folded like paper.
“No,” he whispered, looking down at his bare feet.
He heard footsteps, and then a pair of scuffed boots entered his line of sight. The scent of pine and something sweet tickled his nostrils, and warmth from Fix’s large body caressed his skin, making it prickle.
His gaze drifted upward and caught on Fix’s, blue eyes already staring so intently at him like he was the only thing in the world. He couldn’t look away.
He felt hypersensitive, the way he usually only felt when he’d pushed himself to the edge of control and he wanted to strip everything from his body so he could just feel .
He clutched the edges of his robe with shaky fingers so he wouldn’t be tempted to drop it to the ground…
…but what would Fix do if he did?
He pictured the flame that had appeared in those eyes from the tiny glimpses of his skin earlier and shivered, his breath coming out on a shaky exhale he couldn’t control. Would Fix gather him up in those massive arms and take him? Would he exhale promises of safety and affection into his oversensitive skin?
Liam flinched back from both Fix and his own dangerous thoughts, and King growled at Fix in warning in reaction to Liam’s flinch, planting himself directly between them.
Fix stayed where he was, holding his hands up with his palms toward Liam.
“I’m here to help,” he said, voice quiet and gentle like the one Liam had been using for King. “I want to help, so let me. Tell me how I can do that.”
Liam wrapped his free arm around his waist as he tried to get a hold of himself. “I don’t know what your rates are. I saved some and I think it should cover the scarf…”
“Forget about the rates,” Fix said sternly.
“But—”
“Liam.”
The way he said his name sent a jolt right through him. His cheeks burned at the reaction.
“I’m not letting you stay cursed because of money,” Fix said.
“It’s your job. You don’t work for free.”
“I do what’s best for those around me whenever I can. I’m not taking your money.”
For some reason, that made Liam bristle.
“I’m not a charity project,” he said. “I get by fine and I have money.”
“I never said—” Fix started, but the pride was hard to swallow.
“Just the scarf.” Liam pointed to his room. “It’s on the bed.”
“Liam…”
“No.” Liam shook his head, voice quavering as he struggled to stand firm against Fix. Everything inside him was screaming to just listen and let him do what he wanted, but he couldn’t. Not when it always came back to bite him in the ass. Not when every person who’d made him feel like they’d take care of him had ended up hurting him more.
He’d searched for people to take the burden off his shoulders and take care of him. He’d tried again and again to put his trust in people who didn’t deserve it. Until he just couldn’t anymore. He had learned to take care of himself, and one encounter with someone who appeared gentle and safe under the strength wouldn’t change that.
Fix clearly wanted to argue, but King growled at him again and he sighed, his shoulders slumping as he walked away from Liam and into his bedroom.
Liam leaned against the armrest of his sofa, King pawing at him anxiously as he listened to the sound of rustling.
Fix was in his bedroom. Touching his bed.
Liam caught himself wondering if his scent would linger. If Liam would be able to smell him when he went to bed. He wanted to. He closed his eyes against the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach and tried to push the desire away.
He didn’t want the cursebreaker.
He couldn’t.
Pale blue light flared from the doorway and Liam’s eyes snapped up to watch as it shifted and shimmered, climbing up his walls and crawling along his floor.
It came with a gentle crackle in the air and a soft whooshing sound that lingered for a moment before it all died down.
King huffed when Fix re-entered the room, the sleeves of his shirt unbuttoned and pushed up to his elbows, revealing a kaleidoscope of tattoos. His arms looked strong, like the rest of him, veins protruding and dark hair hiding the colors of the art on his skin.
Liam swallowed before looking up.
“The scarf is safe,” Fix said. “Liam, can I—”
“Thank you.” Liam walked over to his sewing desk with King at his heel and took a dented tin full of buttons out of a drawer.
He dug around until he pulled out a small wad of cash and thrust it into Fix’s hands.
“I think that should be enough,” Liam said. Fix looked like he was about to argue again, so he pointedly cut him off. “Have a nice rest of the day.”
With a final look into Liam’s eyes, Fix saw himself out of his apartment.
And his life.
Liam didn’t know why that thought made him want to curl up and cry.