17. Seventeen
Seventeen
Liam
Her body is a curl of heat inches from mine. She hasn’t moved all night, not once, and I fight the urge to lean closer to the soft skin of her back and trace my fingers down her spine. My hand twitches in the space between us, reaching without touching.
I should’ve slept on the couch. Should’ve left her in Joe’s bed, where she belongs, with his ghost hanging over her. Should’ve done a hundred things I didn’t do, instead I brought her back to my bed.
At first, I felt infuriated. What the fuck is she doing to herself with that blade?
But then I saw the raw pain in her eyes, the bloodshed of grief choking her, and I knew all too well what that feels like.
I saw my trepidation in her dark eyes, and I wanted to take it away, not for her, but for me.
I didn’t even have to consider it, and I dived right into her bloody bath. She needed me and I’m a moron wanting to be needed. She is still Joe’s, still the reason he was on that bike, still the one face I swore I’d never want.
I drag my palm across my stubbled jaw. My mind screams for distance, for escape, but my body remains anchored beside her as her steady breathing fills my darkness.
She finally stirs, rolling onto her back, the towel gaping looser now across her chest. Her lashes flutter, lips parting on a small, groggy sound that goes straight to my gut.
Her almond eyes blink open, black magic landing on me, wide, still glazed with sleep.
The warmth in my chest turns to ice, she is too poisonous.
I shove myself upright, swinging my legs off the bed and into some sweatpants, putting space between us like it can erase the night.
“You can go back to sleep.” I can’t let her have more of me or think there is anything here worth holding onto.
Luckily, I have to leave town to find the pieces of shit that are impeding me from getting so close to everything I’ve worked for. I could’ve gotten more information out of that prick yesterday before shooting him, but she showed up unannounced and that didn’t go too well either.
Damien cleaned up the bloody mess with our guys before I brought her back home, but now I have more work to do. She is simply messing up every aspect of my life.
“Don’t get used to any of this, I want you out when you're ready.” I add, forcing the words like knives.
I don’t wait for her reply. Don’t dare look back. I cross the room, grab my cigarettes from the dresser, and leave before I do something even more fucking stupid. Behind me, the silence stretches with hers, mine, amongst other things we keep quiet of what needs to stay buried.
Later, when I go back into the house towards the bedroom, I am relieved to see that she is out of bed, and yet… The eyesight rips something away. I go to the bathroom, but she isn't there either.
Where the fuck is she?
She’s a loose cannon and goddammit, I'm not about to babysit this girl and her demons dancing around her. She shouldn’t be in my house, not in my world, not with what she saw yesterday.
I walk out onto the yard, the lemon trees invade my senses, the pool glitters under the morning sun, all turquoise and glassy calm, while Sara dangles her feet in the water like no big deal, like she isn’t in the presence of a killer.
Finding her makes me instantly breathe out, and that little enlightenment bothers me. I fight the urge to carve my name on her, so no other men will ever want her.
I move toward her carefully, and she speaks without looking back.
“Don’t worry, I was about to leave.” I haven't seen her face yet, but I need to, need to look at her, to drown in her, to purge her from my system. She must've found some clothes she left in Joe's room, and I feel a weird pinch knowing she had any kind of life with my brother.
I close the final distance between us, and she tilts her head up in her black tee and denim shorts. Her eyelashes catch the light, her dark orbits staring back at me with a promise to read my deprived desires and worship them.
“And you need to stay away,” I threaten. “And very, very fucking quiet about what you saw.”
Her brows knit, her chin tilts stubbornly.
“I’m not stupid, Liam, something’s going on.” Biting her lip, she hesitates. “I found—”
“You think you understand? You don’t. These are men who don’t blink at burning down entire families. You breathe a word, Sara, and it won’t just be you they come for.”
“Gosh, just shut up for a second!” She squirms with irritation, and a shiver races through me. “I found a briefcase under Joe’s bed. Money. Poker chips. Is this what this is all about? A fucking gamble gone wrong?”
Her words slap me. Shock flickers like a blade catching light, but my face stays stone.
“You don’t know what you saw,” I say, sharper than I mean. “And you’d be smart to stop sniffing around places your nose doesn’t belong. Curiosity is a good way to end up in the ground.”
Her eyes flash and she stands up, brushing her hands clean against her hips. “Maybe I’d rather know the truth than live in the dark,” she hauntingly whispers, leaning her face closer to mine, her eyes dropping to my mouth, and I want to make her lips bleed between my teeth.
“Perhaps that makes me braver than you, Liam. Did that ever occur to you?” Her eyes cut deeper than daggers, and before I can put some sense into her and spank her for talking to me that way, footsteps crunch across the gravel, and my initial response is to hide her behind me, to protect her. Fuck, me.
She thinks I’m the bad wolf, but my life is roaming of evil.
I take a step away when my uncle’s shadow stretches long over the pool deck, wearing a linen shirt, sleeves rolled, eyes sharp as he scans the scene and lingering too long on Sara.
Joe was always closer to him. But now… now something coils inside me.
“Liam,” he greets, his tone smooth. His eyes flick back to Sara, and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes tugs at his lips. “And who do we have here? I’m afraid we haven’t met?”
“Sara, this is my uncle, Fred.” I say, my voice a wall. I’m not fond of anyone checking on me since Joe died and him getting me a puppy of all things. Sara stiffens beside me, suddenly small under his attention.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” I feel her anguish seeping in. I want to laugh if she thinks he’s the center of her nightmares, she has no compass. “Sara, why don’t you go inside,” I say under my breath, barely looking back at her.
“Nice to meet you too, Sara.” Fred smiles and Sara nods before she goes inside.
A part of me is hoping she’ll walk out of this house never to be in my orbit again, but my insides also twist at the thought.
“How you’ve been?” he asks, laced with sadness.
“I’m alright, you?” I ask.
“I’m okay, I just want to make sure you’re holding up. Did you find out anything more about the accident?” he asks, looking around before returning to me.
“Can you be more specific, Fred?” I say, crossing my arms and pinching my eyebrows. I’ve grown restless with the past twenty-four hours. He looks at me as if he’s trying to decipher hieroglyphs.
“I don’t know. I worry about you. Perhaps I’m still in shock,” he pauses with a low smile. “You boys have always felt so invincible… and —”
I notice Sara eavesdropping by the door, her eyes like saucers when I stare back at her, and I remember she found something in Joe’s room that I need to chat about with her before she leaves. Fred spins around, pulling me out from my thoughts, and his gaze locks onto Sara.
“Fred, I appreciate it, but this is actually not a good time. I’ll walk you out,” I grunt and grab him by the shoulder.
“Right, you’re a busy man these days, I get it. How’s the puppy? And give your mother and me a call. She’d like that.” His hand clasps on my shoulder.
He’s always cared for my mother, staying in her life long after my father gave her every reason to walk away. Sometimes I wonder if he loved her, his brother’s wife. If he did, I can’t blame him. She deserved better than the man she got.
When I walk back into the house, Sara exhales before me, her hands on the kitchen island, staring into nothingness.
I observe her in her daze, but I know better…
she is processing; her quietness and stillness aren’t peace.
There is a storm inside her she keeps from exploding, and her shoulders loosen when she sees me.
No baby girl, no. Fear me.
“He got you the puppy?” she murmurs, and for reasons unknown to me, she almost looks relieved.
“Yeah.” I walk past her to the kitchen. My voice is steel, but my chest burns. I should leave it here and tell her I’m leaving for a while.
Don’t look for me, don’t wait for me.
Then that flicker in her eyes is there again, not sadness, not bite. Need.
“What did you find in Joe's room?” My hands clench into fists at my sides.
“I told you, it’s full of money and poker chips.” She walks over to me. “Liam… why do you look puzzled? Did you not know about this?” She sounds terrified by the deeper meaning.
“No, Sara, I didn’t.” My hand clenches in my hair. I need her out of here. I need to think straight. What was Joe up to?
Fuck.
She closes the distance, her touch on my shoulder sending me into a rage I can only contain for so long. I hold on to the kitchen island, ready to break it, and her eyes find mine — worried for Joe or me, who knows…
I can’t stand her dumb empathy. I’m not weak. I want to be both the storm that wrecks her and the shelter she runs to. I want her screaming my name when pain and salvation become the same thing.
“Liam… what’s going o—”
I break. In one motion, I turn around, grab her, and lift her onto the island’s edge as my lips crash over hers, bruising and desperate.
She doesn’t even have time to comprehend what is coming for her because I can’t stop myself even if I tried, and the moment my mouth finds hers, she breaks with me.
She kisses me in a deep embrace, punishing me and herself all at once.
Grief meets grief, and hunger morphs into desperation. I need her, and I hate myself for it.
Her legs spread open before me as she locks her arms around my neck, and I savagely slide her shirt over her breasts, revealing them in all their glorious fullness.
My mouth waters before it even finds her skin, her nipples hard and desperate for me, her breasts barely fitting my palm.
My teeth graze the soft swell before I drag her nipple between my lips and bite it.
She gasps and arches her back to meet my touch, her fingers digging into my hair as she moans.
It feels like liberation, and I want more.
I need more. I sharply pull her by her hair, and that elicits a delicious, painful hiss from her lips that makes me harder.
Bringing her closer and kissing her with a hunger I can’t control, I want to crawl inside her and consume her very broken essence, fill her with my darkness and see if she’ll survive me.
Her hands inch under my shirt as her tongue plays with mine, fire scorching my veins, and I groan, pushing my erection deep against her.
“Pl—ease.” She moans. I am on the verge of unzipping my pants and pushing inside her when the fire in me hits with guilt. Joe. Rage. She moans. It all hits me.
No. No. No. I rip myself back, hands slamming against the stone with a crack that echoes,
“Fuck!”
The sound rips out of me, guttural, broken, and it makes her jump against me. She stares at me, chest heaving, disoriented by the loss of contact, and a pulse of guilt runs through me.
For a second I thought she’d beg me not to stop, and I might have ruined us both right there. Instead, she shoves me. Hard.
“You need to leave me alone, Liam. Whatever this is, I don’t want it.” Her voice shakes as she pulls her shirt down, her eyes cutting sharp, and it guts me worse than any blade.
I want to yank her against me, hold her so tightly that her demons and mine remember to crawl where they belong, back to hell.
The front door knocks and opens. Damien steps in, tall, broad shoulders filling the frame, and his eyes cut to Sara, then to me, narrowing as if he’s already decided she is a liability.
“That’s one way to keep her quiet,” he says flatly.
For once, I don’t argue. I watch her jump down from the island and walk away.
When I see her stare Damien down without fear, I can't help but smile.
She does not know what kind of danger she is courting.
Her wet handprints slowly disappear from the stone, and something twists in my chest with each fading mark.
I want those hands around me instead, but in a more pressing matter, I need to make sure Damien doesn’t kill her. Though I’ll put him in the ground before he touches what belongs to me.