Chapter 29 Liam #2
“Success?” Andrea said. Dex snorted.
Toby fixed her with a smile that was more broad than real. “Oh, she’s funny, Liam. I like that.” He kept his gaze on her a second too long.
Andrea placed a hand on my arm, but her eyes didn’t leave his face.
Dex cleared his throat. “Toby, why don’t you grab a chair down at this end with me? Tell us what you’re up to now?”
“In a moment. Keen to catch up with my man Roth, here.”
He smirked. There it was. The face I remembered.
Toby pulled out a chair and sat, indicating for me to do the same. The last thing I wanted was to get into chitchat about the good old days. Strange he’d seek me out, though doubling down had always been his way. It probably wasn’t surprising he wanted to control the situation now.
“So what are you doing with yourself now, Toby? Life treating you well?” I leaned back in my seat. Perhaps if I let him talk about himself for a bit, he’d fuck off.
The look he gave me was pure satisfaction, like he’d just watched me trip over my own shoelaces.
“Finance,” he said, unblinking. “Managing partner for strategic ventures at Aegis Capital—defense, AI, frontier tech. We back the people actually changing the game.”
He twirled his champagne flute in his hand, eyes flicking to Andrea. “It’s fascinating work. One minute you’re in Westminster, next you’re in Tel Aviv or DC, talking about quantum guidance systems. Hard to complain.”
He paused, then added, almost lazily, “You’d have liked it, Roth. Real impact, but without the mud.”
He studied the bubbles a moment, then took a measured sip, as if timing it to the silence that followed.
“And what about you, Roth? Still playing with your Warhammer toys?” He kept his eyes on his glass. “Funny how you were mad for all that war stuff at uni. Turns out the real thing didn’t quite agree with you, eh?”
The sound drained out of the table—just the quiet click of a knife being set down. I felt the edges of my vision swim. My knee bounced under the table. I pressed it still and breathed in.
He smiled faintly. “Still, you always did prefer strategy on a tabletop. Less mess when everyone’s made of plastic.”
Everything narrowed—Toby’s voice, the white linen. It was all too bright. Too loud. The air shimmered like it was made of heat, noise, and a taste of dust. The sense of blood on my fingers. They itched for something to grip, and I pressed them into the tabletop.
Andrea’s hand dropped to my knee—a brief hesitation, then a squeeze, before her voice split the silence. “So, Toby. Your job. Is that the sort of tech that saves lives, or the other sort?”
Toby’s head snapped to her, then he leaned back and smiled. “Depends how you define saving. Precision’s the moral high ground. If someone has to hold it, better it’s us than the other lot.”
He raised his glass slightly, as if toasting his own ethics.
“Oh,” she said. “So you make the safer kind of killing?”
From the end of the table, I heard Ben make a strangled noise into his napkin. Someone dropped a knife onto a side plate.
Toby was staring at her, unmoving.
“Well.” The corner of his mouth tightened briefly. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“Mm.” Andrea nodded.
The room came back into view, and I swallowed, the sound crackling in my ears. Bonnie stood next to Toby, frowning. How long had she been there?
“Right, then.” I stood and looked at Andrea. I had to get out of here. “Glad things are working out for you, Toby. Shall we?”
“Oh yes.” Andrea smiled at the table. “Liam’s promised to show me where the terrace path leads before the sun goes down.” She raised her brows briefly at Bonnie, then Toby, her expression even colder than her tone. “Lovely to chat.”
We turned and walked toward the courtyard’s edge, Andrea holding my arm. Behind us, the conversation limped back to life, cutlery clinking faintly, the noise rising again like static.
After a minute, we were at the wall where the pathway dropped away to the forest below. The rest of the party was well out of earshot.
“So. That was intense,” she said. She was leaning with her hands on the wall looking into the trees.
“Ah—yes. It was a bit. Although—” I paused.
“What?”
“Well. I think we can safely consider you’ve made up for your Galadriel comment.”
“We’re back at Galadriel, are we?”
I cleared my throat. “I meant—”
She turned toward me and raised a brow, mouth twisting into a smile. “It’s okay, Liam. I know you were joking. But you still owe me for Sexy Chewbacca,” she added, deadpan. “And the boil. I’m not going to forget.”
We stood there looking at each other, the space between us silent and small.
“Wow, that guy was an arse,” she said finally. “Moral high ground? Who the fuck does he think he is?” The sun was sinking below the trees, and a slight chill was starting to settle in. Her eyes searched mine, as if she was after some sort of explanation, but I wasn’t sure what the question was.
“Are you cold?” I asked. She shook her head.
She looked absurdly pretty in the evening light. Softer, somehow. Hard to believe she’d just taken Toby Davenport apart without blinking. He hadn’t seen it coming, either.
And she hadn’t done it for the room.
She’d done it for me.
A few sparks flickered in the air between us, faint at first, then multiplying—little golden pulses above the grass. They blinked in and out like someone testing a string of lights.
“Fireflies,” I said.
“Oh, is that what they are?”
We watched them for a couple of minutes.
“Liam, I’m glad—”
“For?”
“I’m glad you’re nothing like him.” She turned back toward the view, hugging her arms around her upper shoulders. “That’s all.”
I felt a sudden lightness, as if my lungs could finally expand properly.