27. Twenty-Seven #2
Another man I seem to have seen around but can’t place where, and Damien jump on the boat next.
Startling me. They function with pure, intimidating confidence emanating from them as they flank the man on the floor, their movements synchronized as if they’ve done this a hundred times before.
The yacht’s alarm wails on, and the deck empties considerably.
I feel trapped between the jacuzzi and Liam, unable to move and not knowing what’s going on.
“Luckily for you, you’re going to find out who the fuck we are, right Riviera?” Damien smirks with venom, and my blood turns icy right when the alarm stops.
“What should we do with him?” Riviera asks, his black hair falling on his light brown skin, his grip tightening on the man’s expensive suit jacket.
“Take him somewhere private for questioning?” Damien asks.
Liam doesn’t answer. His face is terrifyingly blank as he adjusts his stance. A predator who is maliciously and vehemently considering his next move to portray the risk he poses to his prey. I watch him as he becomes unrecognizable, aims the gun down and fires.
The sound is deafening. Blood sprays across the polished deck as the man crumples with an agonized scream, mixed with my scream when he clutches his shattered knee.
I clap my hand over my mouth to quiet my shock but can’t stop the choked sound that escapes me as the world tilts sideways, my vision blurring as tears well up.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Damien laughs. He actually laughs.
Liam turns around, facing me. His face now shows a map of anguish and vigor with the vein on his forehead proving he’s barely suppressing an array of emotions ready to explode.
“When I told you to be very afraid, I meant it.” He pauses, biting his bottom lip and stepping closer to where I’m standing in the Jacuzzi.
“And you should be terrified of the man who promised to keep you safe, whom you continue to ignore. If you ever leave like that again, mark my words, I will hunt you down. And I will drag you the fuck back to me.” A psychotic laugh breaks from him. “I’ll bring you the fuck home.”
Home.
It sends shivers up my spine. I’ve never truly felt at home until…
As soon as the noise of so many missing pieces shuffles into my mind, the realization of all of it hits me in the face.
The girl from the club the night he came back to Saint-Tropez, her terrified eyes, her desperate glance at the exits, the way Liam watched her with such intensity and gave her identification.
And now this woman, with the same haunted look, being handled like property. It all clicks into horrible focus.
Oh my God. This is a human-trafficking operation.
“You’re rescuing them,” I whisper, my voice barely audible even to myself.
Liam’s head snaps toward me, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, he looks almost surprised that I’ve figured it out. The gun remains steady in his hand as he takes a step back, positioning himself more firmly between me and the chaos.
“I told you to not search for answers,” he says through gritted teeth. “I told you to stay away. Why are you even here?”
“I’m here… because of the poker games.”
“What poker games, Sara? There isn’t—” His eyes narrow to my necklace and looks around as if a lightbulb just switched on in his brain.
He whips his arm up. “Search the fucking boat!”
My mind races, connecting more dots. The way he said these men deserved it, that they are trash, could they be connected to the trafficking and the games?
I’m barely able to form a sentence as I watch more men with their guns raised take over the yacht, searching it.
Liam walks over to them, holstering his gun back under his shirt and points in a few different directions as he talks to them, most likely giving instructions.
His tall body is rigid under his leather jacket, where the bulletproof vest peaks underneath. His black jeans accentuating his toned legs and ass. I really shouldn’t be checking him out right now, but he’s a vision to behold. Confidently lethal and I’m confidently fucked.
He walks back over to me as the deck clears up, his eyes unmistakably pinned on me. I’m a hostage, stuck between choices I want to make so badly and know I will regret them later, while other choices could take my already broken heart to the grave.
“B-but why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you explain? I would’ve understood,” I say, as he approaches me, towering over me and discards his leather jacket, throwing it on a nearby bench.
“This is not your fault,” he snaps, before I can respond. His face is a storm of barely contained fury as he steps into the jacuzzi with the grace of a panther. “It’s my fault.”
I push at his chest. “You just had to fucking talk to me, Liam!” I push him again. “You keep so much from me. Just like your brother. You both dragged me into this shit. I’m sick of it!”
He grabs my arms to stop me, but I’m furious. “Why are you keeping so much from me!” I raise my voice with bubbling frustration ready to unleash.
In one swift motion, his foot connects with my ankles, sweeping them from under me. I lose my balance, tumbling backward with a startled gasp that's cut short as I hit the water.
His hand tangles in my hair, firm and unyielding as he forces my head beneath the surface. The warm water closes over my face, muffling everything around us.
One, tw — Just as a brief panic dances at the edge of my mind, he yanks me back up.
“Sill losing your mind, or are we making progress?” he growls.
I cough water out. “Screw you!”
But Liam shoves me back under, and the world goes silent except for the muffled thrumming of the jets and my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
He pulls me right back up. “And now?”
But I shake my head, defiant. My eyes glare at him with anger choking at me for feeling not only abandoned my whole life but always left in the dark.
“Do you know what happens when you disobey me?” His forehead falls to mine. “When you idiotically put your fucking life in danger? This Sara, this is what happens.”
His hand grabs onto my cheek possessively, his blue eyes inhibiting turmoil staring into my soul.
“If anything happens to you, I'll lose my fucking mind, do you not understand that? I’m already losing it.” His voice cracks, and for a moment, I see something raw behind the fury in his eyes.
“You walked right into their trap, you stubborn pain in my ass.” His fingers tighten in my hair, and I can feel his body trembling against mine. “That's what infuriates me the most. You have no idea what these people are capable of. No fucking idea.”
Speechless, I open my mouth, but he shoves me under again.
The water rushes and bubbles escape from my nose and mouth, but this time, I feel at peace.
I let my body relax in his grasp, letting him take the lead to unleash his all-consuming terror because I understand it.
For a flicker, I saw in his eyes the thought of losing me, and it reached roots of grief and love that intertwine themselves into something so confusing and undeniably dark, that only someone with broken pieces would feel the warmth in his wrath.
When he pulls me up a second later, water streams down my face.
“I could have lost you,” he says painfully, his face inches from mine, and my heart flips on itself.
“There are girls to this very day that we don’t know if we will ever find them, Sara.
I can’t. I can’t fucking lose you Sara.” His voice is definitive, primal and my stomach drops with sadness, and something much more somber.
My hands fly to his chest, fingers digging into the soaked fabric of his vest.
“Why?” I gasp, my voice breaking. The water laps violently around us, mirroring the storm in his eyes. “Why are you so afraid to lose me, Liam?” And this time my voice doesn’t falter, doesn’t break.
Instead of pushing him away, I find myself pulling him closer, desperate to bridge the chasm between us. His fury is terrifying, but it draws me in so violently. He’s raw, utterly beautiful.
“Because you’re like a thorn in the palm of my hand that I have tried so hard to claw out. You’re lodged in and I want to heal around you. If you leave, everything I’ve been holding together goes… with you.”
I search his eyes, holding my breath, unable to speak. A decision I feel both of us are on the brink of making, that no matter how much we dance around our fate and try to counter it, we’re like magnets in the most unfortunate field of outcomes.
With a growl that vibrates through his chest and into my fingertips, his eyes flash to my neck, and he reaches for the necklace, ripping as the chain bites into my skin before breaking free.
The pain is sharp but fleeting, replaced instantly by the crushing, consuming pressure of his mouth against mine, and I gasp into his kiss with an intensity of relief humming through me.
The back of my legs hit the edge of the jacuzzi as he presses forward, and his strong arms wrap around me. I try to draw a breath that isn't there while his tongue pushes past my lips, claiming me completely.
Liam kisses me with such ferocity that my lungs seize, his lips devouring mine, as if he's trying to brand me from the inside out. I taste him, so much of him — as my fingers dig into his shoulders for support.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide.
“As long as I'm breathing.” His voice vibrates through me. “You will never put yourself in danger like this again. Do you understand me?”
His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing my lower lip as I nod and lean into his hand. The sensual and kind moment within the storm that Liam inhabits is as confusing as the fine line between love and hate. Somehow, when I hated him, it felt easier, but nowhere near as meaningful.