A Thousand Cuts (Cursebreakers, Inc. #3)

9. Liam

Chapter 9

Liam

L iam gave Fix an inch, and the man took a mile.

But he did so stealthily. Step by step, little by little, until his presence was as normal to Liam as breathing.

There seemed to always be a reason why Fix was swinging by. Some small thing he wanted to check on. A question he couldn’t send over text. A ‘just because’ always ready on the tip of his tongue.

King was not impressed at all.

Liam’s heart raced every time.

He was coming to expect the visits, looking out the window for a glimpse of him, one ear turned toward the door for a knock.

Despite the looming paranoia, he also conversely felt safer than he ever had. He didn’t have to fear curses when Fix would be there to break them within the hour. He went to bed with his head full of the other man and woke up to fading dreams of chased kisses and hands on his body.

It was dangerous to get used to.

Once they figured this mess out, Fix would be gone, and then where would he be? Still waiting by the window and hoping for a knock that would never come?

No. He needed to get a hold of himself.

And part of that was taking some control of his life and fixing the one niggling thorn in his brain that couldn’t be solved by a cursebreaker.

Cane.

Specifically, what Cane had dug up about him and his past and who he had told.

It wasn’t something he could leave in Fix’s hands. He was already risking enough by letting the cursebreaker dig around in his life to try and solve this case. If he turned over the wrong stone…

Liam couldn’t let it happen. Every time Fix gave him an update he feared what would come out of his mouth. He couldn’t go through life with this hanging over his head, waiting for it to drop like a guillotine.

He didn’t trust Cane.

Which brought him to staring at himself in the mirror at eleven o’clock at night, contemplating whether he could really do this. He’d dressed in a simple pair of black jeans and a black and white cropped shirt. It was nothing special and he’d never go to the ring in it normally, but he wasn’t planning on working. For once, he didn’t want to draw attention.

He pulled his long hair back into a low ponytail and shrugged on the beige corduroy puffer jacket that he’d thrifted. He’d been beyond ecstatic that day; the opposite of the dread he was feeling bubbling in his stomach now.

Sighing, he shoved his feet into his sneakers and grabbed his phone and keys.

King whined at his feet and Liam gave him a soft look, bending down to stroke his head. “I’ll be back soon, King. Don’t worry.”

King whined some more, icy blue eyes pleading with him.

“I know,” Liam whispered. “But I have to do this to keep us safe, okay?”

He left before he could talk himself out of it, locking the door behind him and beginning the familiar journey in the direction of the fight ring. He ran through what he wanted to say over and over as he walked to the nearest station and caught the train, rehearsing it so he wouldn’t get tongue tied. Cane was intimidating as hell, so he needed to get his point across quickly before he lost his nerve.

Anxiety made it hard to sit still and a sudden disruption on the line didn’t help matters. The lights in the train carriage flickered overhead and the few people around him grumbled and shifted. Someone reached into their bag and grabbed some ingredients, casting a light spell and holding it in their palm.

There wasn’t a lot of time to figure out what had happened as they were forced to disembark at the next station.

For once in his life, Liam hadn’t drawn the short straw as the station was his stop. He left the disgruntled passengers behind, making his way down the dark streets and alleys until a familiar warehouse loomed in front of him. Deep, booming base spilled out into the night, only faint light illuminating its facade.

He hated coming here. He always left feeling a little worse about himself. But fear was a powerful motivator.

He took a deep breath before approaching the entrance, recognizing the bulky shape of the guard on the door—tall and built, with braids in his hair and skin as dark as the night, covered head to toe in tattoos and piercings, Ares was sort of hard to miss.

Their eyes met and Ares gestured with his head for him to come closer. Liam held himself still for the cursory pat down, appreciating that Ares never lingered longer than he had to.

“Doesn’t look like you’re dressed for work,” he said.

“Maybe the client is into this.”

“Boring and basic is an interesting kink.”

Liam wanted to glare at the insult to his wardrobe, but instead he shifted on his feet. He knew what Ares was digging at and implying. Why was Liam here when he wasn’t playing arm candy? And was he about to stir up trouble?

“I need to talk to Cane,” he said, deciding to come right out with it.

Ares’s flat-eyed stare didn’t shift. “So do a lot of people.”

Liam bit his lip. “He owes me.”

His lack of confidence must have been very funny. It was the first time he’d ever seen Ares crack a smile.

“Cane doesn’t leave debts unsettled. Try again.”

“This is recent.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was two seconds ago. If Cane felt he owed you, you’d know about it,” Ares said. He crossed his arms. “So are you sticking around or leaving?”

Liam was left floundering.

He hadn’t exactly thought this all the way through. While his head had been playing out scenarios of just what he was going to say when he got Cane face-to-face, he hadn’t factored in just how he was going to get there. Criminal underbosses didn’t exactly have an open-door policy. And Cane more than anyone wasn’t exactly what he would describe as ‘nice and chatty.’

His boyfriend, on the other hand…

“I’ll stick around,” Liam said. “Maybe salvage the night and make some money.”

Ares stepped aside and motioned him on into the darkness. “You might wanna take a layer off then.”

Liam pressed his lips together, holding his jacket tighter. “Thanks for the advice.”

Ares shrugged, dismissing him from his attention.

Liam slipped into the dark hallway, glancing over his shoulder at Ares nervously, like the guy was going to see straight through his skull into his brain. He turned the corner and sighed out his nerves, shaking his hands out before nodding to himself.

He just needed to find Hart. Find Hart, and get him to take Liam to Cane.

It wasn’t a secret that Cane and Hart were together. Liam wasn’t exactly sure about all the details, he only remembered seeing the cursebreaker hanging around and all the weird stuff that had been happening at the time.

It was what had led him to meeting Fix that night.

People screaming, him being pushed, him on the floor sure he was about to be trampled underfoot, and then a strong hand guiding him upward to safety. Protecting him.

Maybe it was stupid to put that interaction on a pedestal and hold it there. Maybe it made no sense to go looking for him to help with his curses just because his eyes were kind and his hands on Liam were firm but gentle.

That feeling of complete and utter safety was what had made him give Fix space in his life, limited as that space was. Fix had given him an out. He’d respected Liam’s rejection. Yet Liam couldn’t make himself make a clean cut. He felt like he had to keep that tiny whisper of a maybe for Fix, even though he knew he’d never let himself have it.

He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know if he could survive it. There was something about Fix that hit him deeper, pulled him closer. A scratch from him could feel like a stab wound, he already knew it with certainty. Fix could take him apart and destroy him.

Liam wasn’t ready to give him that power.

He stepped into the main room, squinting against the strobe lighting.

Two men were slamming each other against the bars of the cage in the center of the room, people waving handfuls of money and drinks at them as they delighted in the violence.

Liam turned away from it, searching the heaving crowd and familiar dark corners for a three-piece suit and loafers. Cursebreakers, like criminals, didn’t keep regular working hours. Hart might not even be here tonight.

He scanned around some more, praying and hoping one thing could go his way. He might be the world’s most cursed, most unlucky person, but even he had to catch a break somewhere.

He spotted a perfectly coiffed head in the distance and moved quickly, trying to skirt through the crowd and keep him in sight.

He was so focused he didn’t notice the hand that snapped out to grab him.

He gasped and startled as he was pulled into a lap, lips immediately at his ear.

“Long time no see, doll.”

Liam shivered, but not with pleasure. It was revulsion crawling across his skin as O’Malley’s face flashed through his mind. Green eyes, a snide smile, and large hands that hurt. He tried to free himself and get back to his feet. “I’m not working tonight.”

“Plans change all the time,” O’Malley said, holding on to him without mercy. “Surely you can spare a little time for me.”

Liam had promised himself he would never be in this position again. He wrestled himself free and found his feet, backing up. “I really have somewhere to be, sorry.”

O’Malley followed him up, adjusting his black trench coat over his suit, the lights shining off his slicked hair. Liam had never seen him in anything casual. He looked like one of those silver screen Mafia bosses, only without the pull. He was a poser; smoke and mirrors hiding insecurity and hunger that he turned into anger to inflict on others.

Liam had had a brush with it once, narrowly avoiding worse by the evening being cut short, and he never wanted to tempt fate again.

O’Malley clearly had different ideas.

A few of O’Malley’s cronies closed him in from behind and Liam’s heart began to beat faster as he looked for an escape. O’Malley grasped for his forearm and Liam didn’t have enough maneuvering room to pull it back.

“That’s not very nice of you, doll.” He yanked him in close, eyes boring into Liam’s, speaking a hairbreadth away from his lips. “Don’t you remember all the good times we had together? We never finished what we started.”

“Don’t you remember that I told you if you did one more thing you weren’t supposed to in this ring that you weren’t welcome here anymore?” a calm yet curt voice said.

Liam snapped his head around and found none other than the person he’d been searching for rescuing him.

Hart.

He could have melted in relief, but there were still buckets of trepidation flooding his system. Hart didn’t know what he was getting into with O’Malley. The guy might not have the money to put where his mouth was, but he was still plenty dangerous.

“Step aside, please,” Hart said, gesturing to O’Malley’s cronies. “Liam would like to leave.”

Liam was shocked Hart knew his name. The guys behind him looked at each other in confusion before doing as asked. Clearly, Cane’s reputation transcended him.

O’Malley growled, his grip tightening on Liam’s arm and making him wince. “Hey! Who the fuck do you work for, idiots, me or him?”

They wavered on their feet.

“They’re just being polite. Unlike some people,” Hart said primly.

O’Malley let out a nasty laugh. “You might be fucking the boss, but you don’t have authority here, Breaker.”

“Is that so?” Hart asked, looking to the side and motioning to something. “I suppose demonstrations are often the most effective means of proving a point to someone of lower intellect.”

O’Malley finally let go of Liam’s aching arm and stepped toward Hart. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

Hart turned back to face him and looked in the pockets of his suit, not at all ruffled by the bull bearing down on him. “I have some pamphlets on how to better your education. Perhaps they will also help with your vocabulary.”

“You prissy little bi—”

A closed fist knocked the word right out of his mouth.

Liam hadn’t even seen Cane approach.

“The fuck did you just say?” Cane said, repeating O’Malley’s words back to him and looming over his sprawled figure on the ground.

Instead of pamphlets for further education or vocab lessons, Hart had nothing but devotion and a hell of a lot of attraction to give to Cane. The contrast was clear as day, love either blinding Hart or creating a shroud of desire that gave Cane a free pass to act unruly.

Not that Liam was going to complain. O’Malley deserved more than having his jaw unhinged. Cane rammed a steel-toed boot into his gut for good measure like he’d heard Liam’s thoughts.

Hart placed a hand on his bare, tattooed arm. “Cane.”

Magically, it kind of worked, and Cane eased off. Liam needed Hart to tell him what his secret was so he could maybe control King that well too. The two had a lot of similarities. Only King was adorable and cute, and Cane was…Cane.

“You heard what he said to you, sweetheart,” Cane said, playing with one of the many piercings on his face in agitation. “That shit doesn’t fly in my ring.”

“And the demonstration was made,” Hart said calmly. “A wise person said to know when to quit. You shouldn’t beat a dead horse, after all.”

“What if you’re just making sure it’s dead?” Cane asked, innocently aiming another kick at O’Malley’s chest as he was trying to crawl away unnoticed.

Hart pursed his lips in censure and Cane folded like a cheap deck of cards. “Fine. You win.”

From Hart’s smile, Liam had a feeling he always did.

Cane made a gesture and a couple of people Liam recognized as being part of Cane’s empire came forward to do his bidding, grabbing O’Malley’s wheezing form and escorting him and his men away.

“C’mon, sweetheart, with me,” Cane said, grasping Hart’s hand. “Every time you go out of my sight you get into some sort of trouble.”

“Me!?” Hart scoffed. “I’m trouble?”

Cane scanned him up and down in a way that made even Liam blush. “The best kind.”

“We have company,” Hart said, but from his body language, he was obviously into whatever this dance between them was.

“Easily solved.”

Cane began to pull him away without another word.

Which broke Liam out of his staring.

He was about to lose his chance.

“WAIT!”

Hart glanced back, pulling to a halt. Cane sighed at his side.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that was incredibly rude. We didn’t even check if you were okay,” Hart said, sounding truly sincere.

“Oh, uh, yes, I’m fine.”

“Great. See ya,” Cane said, moving to drag Hart away again.

“I mean…No!” Liam blurted out. “I’m terrible. The worst. Horrible.”

He knew more synonyms than this.

Cane narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying his bullshit, but Hart only looked at him with concern.

“Come up to the office and we’ll get you all sorted out.”

“Excuse me?” Cane said.

Hart gave him a look. “I invited him up.”

“Did you now,” he drawled. “I didn’t hear.”

“Cane.”

“Sweetheart.”

They held eye contact for too long to be normal. A whole conversation was being held between them in the silence, arcs of tension illuminating the place better than the strobe lighting.

Cane reached out and grasped Hart’s chin between his rough fingers. “I’m going to collect later, sweetheart,” he promised, voice low.

Liam caught Hart’s shiver and flush before he turned to Liam. “Follow us.”

He did, keeping enough distance to be polite, but not enough that he could fall out of Cane’s menacing orbit that repelled people like a reverse pole magnet.

They made it up the stairs and through the doors before Liam paused on the threshold.

He could only have imagined what the inside of Cane’s office looked like. He’d pictured blood splatters for carpeting and guns as wallpaper. Instead, the place was…clean. There was a potted plant in the corner and organizers on the desk and motivational posters hung up with ‘Keep Hanging in There’ scrawled across them.

Hart noticed his staring and smiled proudly as he shut the door behind Liam, dulling the music and sounds from the ring. “I helped clean the place up so it’s a more productive workspace.”

“I’m sure Cane just loves it,” Liam said, darting a look at him.

Cane had settled into his worn leather chair, boots up on a large, dark desk and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He took a drag and blew it out. “There were some compromises made.”

“I let you keep the chair and desk,” Hart said.

“Mmm, I don’t remember you putting up much of a fight. You and this chair and desk have a long history together,” Cane purred.

Hart flushed pink and so did Liam.

Hart turned to face him and said hastily, “Don’t listen to him. Now, what did you need? Fix would kill me if I let you go without checking you’re okay. Is your arm sore? O’Malley is a brute. We should have banned him before he could start trouble.”

At the mention of Fix’s name Liam straightened, everything else becoming white noise as a jolt of electricity passed through him. “Fix mentioned me to you?”

Hart stopped his fussing and paused. “Of course. He’s been quite concerned about you ever since he first met you. He’s very thoughtful in that way, you know. And kind. He has many positive attributes. He’d make an ideal boyfriend for someone. Objectively speaking.”

Cane snorted and Liam wanted to crawl under a rock.

It had no tact at all. It was a boat with a neon sign ramming through a building with a speaker blaring, ‘DATE FIX’ on repeat.

“Smooth, sweetheart,” Cane said.

“I was speaking in hypotheticals, of course,” Hart told Cane, moving around to perch on the edge of his desk. Cane offered him the cigarette and Hart took an elegant drag before handing it back. “Except for the caring part. If you want a more comprehensive list of his achievements in life, I just so happen to have one on me though.”

He began rummaging in his pockets again and Liam hated to admit he was actually eager to learn anything about Fix, no matter how small.

“How about we cut to the chase here instead,” Cane broke in in a dry voice that sucked all the air and comfort from the room. “I have things to do tonight that don’t include making small talk with a doll with an agenda. What are you really here for?”

Liam froze, eyes flicking to Cane to find him staring holes through him.

“Cane.” Hart’s voice was a reprimand.

Cane didn’t fold this time, instead he held Liam’s eyes without blinking, like he was reading him like a book. Liam couldn’t look away.

“You pulled up my information.”

Cane hummed, taking another drag on his cigarette, showing no hint he cared and no hint what he knew. Liam’s anger and fear grew.

“You have a problem with that?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Liam said.

Cane smirked around the butt of the cigarette. “My information is a matter of public record, doll.”

“Mine is not. And I would have liked to keep it that way.” Liam ground his back teeth. “You had no right to dig into me.”

“Take that up with Big Boy. I simply provided a service,” Cane said.

“He was worried about you,” Hart interjected in defense of Fix. “He would never have invaded your privacy if he didn’t feel it was necessary. Fix isn’t like that.”

“I know,” Liam said with a sigh. “We talked about it and he apologized already.”

“So why are you really here?” Cane asked again.

Liam closed his eyes. There was no way he was going to outsmart Cane; he was too damn perceptive and paranoid.

“Who else did you tell?”

“No one.”

Liam opened his eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“I don’t make a habit of lying,” Cane said. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“He really didn’t.” Hart mediated again. “He didn’t even tell me.”

Liam felt some relief, but not enough as he continued to stare at Cane. “What did you find out about me?”

“Your location,” Cane said.

He couldn’t read anything on Cane’s face. “Nothing else?”

Hart frowned and Cane smirked. “Was there anything else to find?”

Liam’s heart began to hammer so hard he saw black curling around the sides of his vision. Everything he’d built could come crashing down around him.

“You don’t know anything. Okay,” he told Cane. It wasn’t a request, it was a very shaky demand.

Cane blew out a plume of smoke through his nose before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray Hart moved into his way like muscle memory. Hart wasn’t paying attention to Cane though, his eyes were fixed on Liam. Assessing. Guessing.

You probably don’t think I’m so great for your brother now, right?

“I washed my hands of it,” Cane said after a moment of watching him squirm. “Your life holds no interest or value to me.”

“Cane!” Hart gasped.

“In the nicest way,” Cane tacked on with a roll of his eyes.

Liam didn’t take it personally. In fact, the words oddly comforted him, bringing a flood of relief. Liam wasn’t on Cane’s radar enough for him to care about his past. It wasn’t a bargaining chip of any worth he could use, so he was dismissible.

“We do care,” Hart corrected, giving him a comforting smile. “Cane just has a unique way of showing it.”

“Sure,” Liam said.

In a way it was probably true by proxy. If Hart cared about it, then Cane cared about it. That was about the best he was going to do. Liam didn’t want it though. He’d rather be forgettable.

“Just…I don’t want anyone to talk about me. Whatever you know, I don’t want you discussing it between you either. And especially not with Fix,” Liam said shakily. “It’s my business. You already invaded my privacy for him once.”

“Of course you’re entitled to your privacy,” Hart said. “I’m exceptionally sorry you felt it was invaded. I wouldn’t do anything to make that worse. It really was just because he was worried for your safety.”

Liam nodded. “I forgave him for that. I just wanted to come here and set the record straight.”

Cane clicked the barbell in his tongue against his teeth. “It’s nothing that puts Hart in danger, so it’s already forgotten. There’s only so much charity I’m willing to do anyway. You two can work it out on your own time. I have better things to do.”

“There’s nothing to work out,” Liam said.

Cane snorted. “Whatever you say, doll.”

Hart was still staring at him in concern. “If there’s anything you need…something you need help with…”

For all his good intentions, there was nothing Hart could do for him. “I just like to be left alone.”

Hart sighed, nodding. “I respect your boundaries.”

Liam swallowed his relief and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.” He glanced at the clock on the desk. “I should go. I have to catch the last train.”

“No need for that,” Hart said, reaching for his phone. “It’s late. I’ll call Fix.”

Liam choked on a breath. So much for boundaries. “No! Please, I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve caught the last train out.”

Hart frowned. “Ares can drop you home then.”

He wanted even less to be trapped in a car with him , awkwardly twiddling his thumbs while Ares glared at the road. “Hart, thank you, but I’m good.”

“You better hurry if you wanna make it,” Cane drawled, gesturing at the clock. “O’Malley and his goons won’t bother you on the way out. They’re…otherwise engaged at the moment.”

Hart pursed his lips but nodded. “Travel safely.”

Liam gave an awkward wave. “See you around.”

“Hopefully not here,” Hart said. “No offense intended.”

Liam smiled. “None taken.”

“What’s wrong with here?” Cane said, just to be an asshole.

“You know what I mean, you just like to play at stupidity to annoy me,” Hart said, their bickering following Liam out the door.

He was almost envious.

Not exactly of the functioning dysfunction that was their relationship. It seemed to be one match strike away from igniting at all times. But there was a steadiness of feeling between them hidden under all the tension and fighting that was plain as day. They would do anything for each other. They were two halves of a weird whole.

Liam had never been a half of anything.

He refused to think of Fix. Of how they could fit together. Of how he instinctively knew it would be perfect.

It did him no good.

He made it back outside, the air more frigid than it had been when he entered, the sky darker even though he was sure it shouldn’t be possible. There was an eerie feeling hanging around that made him check every corner before he stepped away from the door.

He was just being paranoid.

He couldn’t wait to get home.

He put his hands in his pockets and snuggled his nose into his collar as he set off, leaving the drab warehouse behind and keeping a wary eye out as he took a few dark alleyways that were a shortcut to the main street.

It was risky, but he didn’t have time to lose.

Liam shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and picked up his pace, crossing the road and hurrying in the direction of the train station.

If he missed the last train he was screwed, and he’d have to go crawling back to Hart and Cane to help him out.

The streets were almost completely empty, others either at home already or being smarter than him and already waiting on the platform. He shivered as a breeze swept through, catching trash and debris and sending it skittering down the sidewalk.

His own steps were thundering in his ears, almost echoing back at him. He had to check over his shoulder multiple times to see if anyone was following him. It was like he could feel breaths on the back of his neck.

The dim lights from the lampposts stretched the shadows into eerie shapes on the ground, illuminating the smog and steam that was commonplace this close to the industrial side of the city.

A sudden sharp, metallic sound behind him made him spin in place with a gasp, only to catch an empty can rolling out of the alley he’d just passed. His heart began to beat faster as he peered into the depths, imagining eyes staring back at him. A darkness trying to beckon him into it.

He broke into a sprint, not knowing why, his instincts just telling him to move.

He rounded the corner and almost tripped over a trash bag that had been carelessly left there, stumbling and catching himself against an electronics store window.

His breath fogged up the glass in front of him as he tried to catch it, only to startle when an older model TV in the window turned on in front of him.

It was static at first, before a blood-red eye appeared on a black background.

Liam stumbled back from the image in horror as a green line came down from the top of the TV as if wiping it clean. In its place was a single word:

RUN

Liam did.

He raced down the street, his feet barely hitting the floor. All around him he saw that word reflected back at him; on the road walk sign, in a scrolling promotion message above a store, on the train departures board as he reached the entrance.

He fell against the escalator, scraping his shin under his jeans. He hauled himself up with gritted teeth, scrambling upward before checking over his shoulder.

A dark figure stepped into view, placing one foot on the bottom step.

Terror sent adrenaline coursing through his veins, pushing him harder as he scaled the hundreds of steps.

RUN

RUN

RUN

He passed the word with every board, urging him higher even though he felt like his body was going to give out.

Footsteps hastened behind him and he whimpered, not daring to look.

He could hear the heavy chug of the train on its tracks as he reached the top, the screech as it pulled in. He desperately prayed for it to wait for him. Please, please, don’t leave . He burst out onto the steam-filled platform and threw himself through the doors just as they were about to close, startling those who had already boarded.

Liam was sweating all over and could barely draw in a breath as he braced himself against the opposite door. The whistle blew to signal departure, and the black faded from Liam’s vision enough for him to look back out of the window.

At the entrance to the platform was the dark figure just standing there as the train pulled away.