20. Twenty #2
I soften my expression, leaning closer. “Actually, they're expecting me. Liam sent me.” I wink, savoring how his name tastes like venom on my tongue, and his eyes narrow, glancing toward his boss.
I seize the moment, fingers already on the doorknob when Anne gets on her tiptoes and plants her lips on his for a mere second, and he looks like he knows he's about to get fired but also wants her to do it again.
This man is very confused. My heart sings when she catches my eye with a wink and whispers, “Go.”
The knob turns beneath my hand, and my heart falls into the pit of my stomach when I see him up close.
He's halfway across the room when I step in, his shirt untouched, and the girl stands frozen.
His eyes sharpen when he sees me, his icy blue eyes meet mine, making his infuriated stare look deadly.
He looks very, very mad.
He's striking, a menace, a monster. A monster that ripped something in me that was never meant for him to take, and I'm going to own that part of myself back. I can't explain what gets into me, but before I know it, I push her out.
“Time's up.”
“Jesus, Sara—” His voice cuts sharp and his body lunges for my wrist, but I'm already shoving her toward the door.
The girl whimpers, confused, barely standing up to me.
“Stop it!” he orders. “What the hell has gotten into y—”
“Why? So, you can finish what you started?” I snap. “How noble of you, Liam.”
I stop in front of her, assessing if she’ll just read the room and leave on her own, but when she looks up at Liam, something about her is fragile and…frightened. I feel like sinking into a cave. Before now, I've never really been mean or violent.
He pinches the bridge of his nose as if I'm testing his patience.
“Okay, both of you—wait. Sara, don't you fucking move,” he grits through his teeth, and she stares at me with tears forming in her eyes. There goes another girl under the Laurent’s spell. Maybe he was with her this entire time… and why does the thought of it hurt?
He pulls out his phone, muttering into it, “Damien, get her out. Quietly through the back. I have something I have to take care of before I meet you guys, but we're good here.”
I didn’t miss the stare he gave me when he said, 'something to take care of' and I silently tremble inside, but I’m also impatient to see what that means.
Liam approaches the girl and says, “My friend will escort you out. His name is Damien, everything will be figured out from there. This is yours.”
He hands her what looks like an ID and passport. I don’t understand what any of it means, but one thing becomes crystal clear: Liam was not going to use the sex club in the way one might use a sex club. Oops.
The girl slips out, shaken, and doesn't even look at me.
As his attention drifts back to me, my legs threaten to break. I stare at him, anger crawling up my throat until it burns. “Who is she? What is this?”
“It's not what it looks like," he says, his voice even as he removes his leather jacket, the shirt pulling taut over his muscles. “And I know…That's the first thing they say when it's exactly what it looks like.”
He looks at me, studying me, his eyes looking over my face to my body in my dress and back to my eyes, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
"Then what is it?" I say, as a pitying feeling of relief of being close to him comes over me and my words sound small.
“Something you weren't supposed to walk into, but it seems you can't help it, Sara, now, can you?” he breathes, almost seductively, slow enough to feel his voice deep in my stomach.
“Well, I don't expect an invitation, especially when you fall off the face of the earth for two fucking months,” I bark at him.
“You're counting?” He grins, stepping closer to me and my pulse jumps.
“Who. Is. She?” I pronounce every word, sounding as confident as I was hoping to be.
“I will explain, but there's nothing between her and I, if that's what you're all pissed about. Which—” He sounds amused, and I want to confront him deeper.
“Which what?” I cut him off, secretly thankful he clarifies, because deep down, that’s what I want to know.
“It's really none of your fucking business.” He is so much closer to me now, and it’s increasingly difficult to hide my body trembling.
“Well, when you have gotten in my face telling me who can’t touch me, you make it my business, Liam.” I glare at him.
For a second, he quiets everything. It is just us and this tension I can’t allow myself to sink into. He walks beside me and heads to the chair in the middle of the room, sitting down with his arm propped up, relaxed, waiting for me to say more, but nothing comes out.
I can't help but take him in. He is intimidatingly ravishing, tall, his body is made to touch, and I want to claw his eyes out. My chest hurts as I can see some of Joe in him, but it isn't Joe, it's Liam, and I am recognizing what makes Liam more Liam than Joe.
Did I… did I miss Liam?
“You provoked me, Sara. Now finish it.” His deep voice startles me, and I forget where we are, who we are.
His presence reveals torn pieces I want to take apart and have him shatter until we’re both unrecognizable in our sins and regrets. The music plays around us, and the song "Church" by Chase Atlantic engulfs us.