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Unbroken
  • Текст добавлен: 3 октября 2016, 21:26

Текст книги "Unbroken"


Автор книги: Lisa Renee Jones



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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 9 страниц)




PART SEVEN

Control

“IS HE REALLY DEAD?” MEG DEMANDS, her voice trembling, her fingers clutching a soft cloth purse to her side, a perfect hiding spot for a gun, I fear.

I hold my hands up and take a step backward, appalled that she’s obviously been watching the house and following us. “Meg—”

“Is Chad dead?” she all but hisses at me. “I need to know if he’s dead.”

She sways toward me and I sit down on the seat, clutching my own purse and mentally planning how to reach my gun inside. “He’s gone,” I say. “It’s true.”

“I didn’t ask if he was gone,” she growls from between gritted teeth. “I asked if he’s dead.”

“He’s dead,” I confirm, resenting how easily her betrayal of my brother could have made it true.

She searches my face and shakes her head. “No. No! You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You wouldn’t be out shopping two days after you buried your brother if he was really dead.” She gives me a once-over. “And for a wedding dress? No way.”

“I’ve spent the past six years pretending bad things aren’t real. It’s how I survive. He’s dead, Meg.”

“He’s hiding. Just like before.”

“You think I didn’t want to believe that?” I demand, my voice wavering at the truth in her words. “The police used dental records to prove it was him.”

She chokes out a disbelieving laugh. “He faked those records like he faked his death in the past. I need to see him. I need to explain what happened.”

“What does that even mean? What happened?”

“I didn’t want to betray him, Amy. You have to believe me. Rollin made me do it all.”

Rollin being the man responsible for killing my family, and I’ve seen photos of her kissing him, while she was supposed to be in love with my brother. She’s not sorry for anything. She’s digging for information; she’s after Chad and that cylinder. “It doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do or why,” I say tightly. “He’s gone. I buried him for real this time.”

Anger flares in her eyes and she grabs the pink dress I love so much and shakes it in the air. “You’re looking at freaking dresses. You don’t look at dresses two days after you bury your brother.”

Defensiveness flares. “It’s called survival. Focusing on the one person I have in my life who’s still here and loves me.”

She glares at me. I glare back, ignoring the fear in the pit of my belly at the certainty that she’s about to snap. Heavy seconds tick by, the challenge crackling between us, and I can feel her searching my expression for proof of the secrets I will not reveal. Expecting confrontation, my fingers tighten on my purse; I’m worried that I can’t retrieve my weapon before she does hers.

Suddenly though, her spine softens, her face crumpling as she sobs. “He can’t be gone.” Her hand leaves her purse to press to her face. “He can’t.”

My teeth clench at what I am certain are tears of manipulation, a tactic she’s used on me once before with a success she won’t have now. “I wish it weren’t true,” I say, my voice quaking with the anger she’s stirred in me. “But it is.”

She swipes at her wet cheeks and hugs herself. “Who killed him? Was it Rollin?”

My anger deepens at the name of the man who is responsible for killing not only my family, but at least one of this woman’s employers when she betrayed my brother. “I don’t know who did it.”

A knock sounds on the door and she whirls around to face it, her hand flying to her purse, her fingers slipping inside.

“I need a minute more, Betty!” I call out, desperate to defuse the moment. “I’m on the phone.”

“Okay, honey,” she replies. “I’ll hang the dresses I brought you on the door.”

“Thank you!” I say, holding my breath to listen for her retreat and the instant I am certain she’s left, I warn Meg, “She’s going to return. What do you want from me, besides driving a stake in my heart over Chad?”

Her bottom lip trembles—actually, her whole body trembles. “I’m afraid.”

I narrow my gaze on her, certain that this is another ploy to win information. “Afraid of what?”

“The father-and-son monster duo. Who else? Rollin and Sheridan. Someone is looking for me. It has to be one or both of them.”

I don’t ask how she knows. “Why do you think it’s them?”

“Because I could hurt them if I testify. I know things. Lots of things.”

“They’re locked up.”

“With money and resources that reach beyond those cell walls.”

“People who betray their countries do not go to regular prisons or have the same rights to communicate with the outside world,” I argue, saying only what has been revealed publicly. “And I’m not even sure they need witnesses. The news said they were turned in by the Chinese.”

“Their attorneys are trying to get them moved to a regular prison with the right to a trial. Sheridan Scott and his consortium of wealthy investors are dripping with money. If you think their attorneys won’t connect them to the outside world, you’re crazy.”

My gut clenches at the idea that our enemies could soon be free. “How do you know this?”

“I called an ex-friend of Rollin’s when I figured out I was being followed. He told me everything.”

“Where did this person get this information?” I push further.

“He has a friend still close to Rollin who told him. Amy,” she pleads, going down on one knee in front of me, and snapping me back into the present. “I need help. I have no one but you to go to.”

“Help yourself, Meg. Give the CIA what they want and keep the people who mean you harm in jail.”

“I told you. Anyone who betrays these people will end up dead. And they have Jared, anyway. He knows more than I do, I’m sure.”

“What? Jared is in prison?”

“He’s working for the CIA, I think. Some kind of deal he made. He’s a fool. He’ll be dead in a heartbeat.”

I’m not sure if I should be relieved to know where Jared is or worried he’s going to become a problem anyway.

“I need help, Amy. I have no money and no resources. Chad was my only hope. Please. Help me. I’ve taken every step Chad taught me to hide and they still found me.”

“You lived in New York with Chad. Of course they’re looking for you here.”

“I didn’t hide here. I came to New York to see you.”

“You betrayed my brother.”

“I fell in love with him. It destroyed me to keep lying to him.”

“But you did.”

“I wanted to tell him the truth, but I knew he’d hate me and we’d both end up dead.”

“He is dead, Meg, and as far as I’m concerned you had a role in that. And the fire. You set the electrical fire at Liam’s house.”

“I had to do it or they would have killed me.”

“My family died in a fire. In a fire.”

“I’m sorry.” Her hand goes to my leg and I stiffen, fighting the urge to shove her away. “I’m so sorry,” she repeats. “I’ll help you avenge Chad. I’ll do anything to help you if you will just help me too. Anything.” She grabs my hand and thrusts a piece of paper in it, curling her fingers around mine. “This is a number you can reach me at. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. Please, Amy. Talk to Liam. Get him to help me.” She releases me and stands, and before I can blink, she’s thrown open the door and vanished into the hallway. Stunned, I sit there for a moment and have to shake myself. She knows things we need to know.

Leaping to my feet, I reach the doorway.

“Liam!” I scream, yanking up my long skirt and taking off at a run. “Liam!” She disappears into the store and I shout louder, “Liam!” I gasp as I smack into his hard body, and I grab his arms to right my footing. “Meg,” I pant. “That was Meg that just ran by. In the black wig and glasses.”

He presses me to the wall, blocking my body with his, and this time it’s him shouting. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m not hurt. We have to catch her.”

Betty appears in the hallway. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

“Call security,” Liam orders, offering no further explanation, shifting his attention back to me. “Was she alone?”

“I don’t know. I think yes. We have to catch her.”

“The only thing I have to do is keep you safe. She could be leading us into a trap.”

Tellar rushes to our side. “Why do we need security?”

“Meg was here,” I gasp. “She cornered me and then took off. Short black wig and thick glasses.”

“Is she alone?” he asks, clearly in the same mindset as Liam.

“I think so. She thinks someone is following her. I think there’s a gun in her purse.”

He eyes Liam with a silent question and Liam nods. “Yes. Go get her.”

Liam had barely finished the sentence before Tellar is on the move and Betty is claiming his spot next to us. “Security’s on the way. What can I do to help?”

“Secure the boutique,” Liam states. “No one in or out.” He glances at me. “Go change. I’ll be right there.”

I nod, eager to get out of here, but once I’m at the end of the hallway I can’t stand the idea of being shut inside the dressing room without knowing what’s going on. I go back to find Betty missing and Liam talking with a security guard. Seconds tick by that feel like hours before the guard makes a call on his radio and Liam turns toward me, motioning me into the dressing room, his long strides closing the distance between us.

I enter the room with him on my heels, and I quickly unzip my dress as he shuts the door. “What the hell did she want?” he asks.

“Confirmation that Chad’s dead,” I say, shoving the dress to the ground and stepping out of it.

Seeing my struggle with the dress and hanger, he takes over. “I knew someone would nose around, thinking that he’d set up his death again. I just didn’t expect it to be Meg.”

“She says Jared is helping the CIA.”

“How does she know that?”

“Someone close to Rollin. But that would mean that the Chinese turned Jared over to them. He’s a world-class hacker. Would they do that?”

“Did she say what he’s doing to help the CIA?”

I give a shake of my head. “No. She didn’t seem to know. If it was a witness protection program, she wouldn’t know, right?”

“Right. There could be any number of other options, though. He’s a double agent of some sort, or the two countries simply made a trade deal for something more valuable to the Chinese.”

“So, in light of those things, is knowing where Jared is a good or a bad thing?”

“We’re not making any assumptions based on the claims of that woman with her track record for deception. We’ll investigate. We’ll figure it out.” He withdraws his phone from his pocket. “Finish getting dressed. I want out of this store.”

I cover his phone before he can dial. “Wait. I need to tell you something else. She said Sheridan, Rollin, and everyone in the consortium supporting Sheridan . . . they all might get moved to regular courts and be granted trials.”

“And she told you this why?”

“She wanted Chad’s help, and now wants ours. She thinks her testimony would be incriminating and therefore she’s in danger. Someone is tracking her.”

“You know this could all be fabricated to try and pry our secrets out of us, right?”

“I do. But what if it’s not?”

He cups my cheek and kisses my forehead. “Take everything she said with a shaker of salt, baby.” He releases me. “And whatever happens, we’ll deal with it like we always do.” He gives me a once-over. “Clothes, baby. We need out of here.” He punches the auto-dial button on his phone.

“She says they have reach beyond the prison, no matter how secure.”

“And that ‘reach’ might be her, trying to bait us,” he says, shifting his attention to his phone, listening a moment before quietly saying, “Meg just paid Amy a visit. Call me.” He pauses a beat. “Now.”

Chad, I think, pulling on my jeans, hyper-focusing on the zipper to fight the ball of emotion in my stomach. Will he call us? I’m not sure that he will. I reach for my shirt on the floor and Liam grabs it first, offering it to me but holding on. He searches my face, understanding in his eyes as he lifts my shirt and pulls it over my head. “He will call back,” he assures me. “He’s not gone, Amy.”

I give a choppy nod and my fingers curl around the paper in my hand. “Oh.” I offer it to him. “She gave me this number. She said we can leave a message and she’ll call us back.”

“And we’d do that why?”

“To help her.”

“I repeat. And we’d do that, why?”

“She offered to help me get revenge for Chad’s death.”

“And she took off running, why?”

“She got spooked, is the only answer I have.”

He doesn’t look convinced. In truth, I’m not either.

Footsteps sound in the hallway, followed by a knock. “Liam.”

At the sound of Tellar’s voice, Liam opens the door while I lean against the wall to pull on my boots. “I caught her at the door and then lost her in the crowd,” he announces, “but I already have Josh tracking the security feeds. Without a coat in this weather she couldn’t have gone far and she’ll be easy to spot.”

I step to Liam’s side. “Did you tell him that she might have taken off the wig?”

“I told him,” he states, narrowing his gaze on me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just shaken up a bit.” And noting the questions in his eyes, I quickly summarize the important facts. “She cornered me, tried to get me to admit Chad was alive, told me Jared was working with the CIA, and then begged for our assistance before taking off.”

Tellar gives me a deadpan look. “I don’t even know where to start asking questions, but Coco’s ex-CIA and well connected at the agency. Once I get us all out of here, I’ll call her.”

“Suddenly her skills make sense,” I say, remembering how she’d helped us escape a bad situation in the past.

“She has exceptional skills,” Tellar assures me. “I paid a security guard to bring our car around front. I want you both out of here until we have more facts.”

“Agreed,” Liam says, trying to move me forward, but I hang back and quickly grab my purse from the chair, securing it crosswise. Tellar backs up, giving us space, and Liam urges me forward, placing me between the two men. We head down the hallway into the bridal boutique to find Betty standing in wait.

“We’ll take everything in the dressing room and anything else you think she might like or need, including shoes and a bag,” Liam tells her. “Charge my card and have it all delivered today.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone.” She adds, “Be safe!” as we walk out of the bridal boutique.

After we’re out in the open, crossing the retail area, I’m nervous, but I don’t give in to it. Once we stopped denying that the risk of the cylinder was here to stay, I felt a shift inside me, a sense of control I desperately needed. Standing tall and fighting is what I’ve been denied for six long years, but that is no longer true. Reverting to fear, running from an unknown enemy, would make what Chad just did for us be for nothing.

Reaching the exit, Tellar pauses and glances at us. “I’ll get the door and makes sure it’s clear outside.”

Liam steps to my side, giving an affirmative nod, and I take a step backward to avoid the cold wind as Tellar leaves, quickly finding myself tucked tightly under Liam’s arm, snug against his body. Silently, we watch Tellar stride toward the Bentley. The driver’s door opens and the security guard steps out. Tellar pops open the rear door, scanning the sidewalk and street before he motions us forward. Liam opens the door and we quickly cross to the sidewalk, snowflakes fluttering around us, then we’re sliding into the warm car. Liam shuts us inside, his hand settling possessively on my leg.

Tellar quickly claims the wheel and puts the car in drive. “I need more information than I have so far, to tell Coco. Start with everything Meg said about Jared.”

I explain the entire encounter to both men in detail, fielding their questions, having no time for my own. When Tellar finally calls Coco, he keeps it short. “She says she’ll get back to us fast or slow, depending on when her contact responds.”

“That’s about as noncommittal as you can get,” Liam comments dryly.

“Yeah, well, the head honcho in this division is her ex-husband, who she occasionally sleeps with. And apparently he’s pissed off at her right now.”

I outright gape. “Ex-husband? And she still sleeps with him?”

“Yeah,” Tellar confirms. “It’s awkward, but it works for us right now.”

“Depending on how pissed off he is,” Liam comments. “We need an update from Josh.”

“He told me not to call him while he’s tracking Meg. He says we’ll just waste precious seconds that determine whether he finds her or not,” Tellar says as we pull up to the security panel at the house. “He left a meeting to handle this for us, by the way.”

We pull through the gate to Liam’s house, and that weird tingling sensation down my neck returns. I twist around to watch the gates close.

Liam squeezes my leg. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I say, facing forward as we enter the garage. “I just feel a little antsy, I guess.”

“That makes two of us,” Tellar murmurs, the doors behind us grinding closed.

“That’s why we need to find Meg,” Liam says, popping open his door. “I’m calling Josh.” He’s out of the car in an instant, charging toward the door, though he normally hovers.

I start to follow, but hesitate. “How bad do you think the situation is?” I ask Tellar.

“I’ll let you know after Coco calls, but if we find Meg and we know where Jared is, it erases the unknowns we wanted erased. That has me feeling pretty damn good about things.”

“Liam doesn’t seem to feel that way.”

“He likes to feel in control. Right now he doesn’t, and he wants it back.”

“I like control, too.” I think of my nightmare. “I need control.”

“Exactly why he wants it. To give it to you.”

He’s right. That’s exactly what Liam is trying to do right now. “Thanks, Tellar.” I slip out of the car and hear his cell phone ring. I pop my head back inside. “Coco?”

“Derek. He wants to come welcome you home. I’ll get rid of him.”

“Nicely,” I warn, exiting the car.

He calls out, “I’m always nice to Derek,” which is completely not true. The two of them are like brothers, always at each other. Like Chad and I used to be—and never will be again. The idea twists me in knots.

I rush up the stairs and follow Liam’s voice, finding him in the living area, his back to me, spine stiff, one hand on the windowpane. “Tonight needs to change,” I hear him saying as I stop beside the couch. “Get him here to me.” He pauses. “I won’t be here after tonight. I’m taking Amy back to the safe house.”

My heart races and I feel like the ground is unstable. He wants to run and hide again, after he just convinced me that we can start a normal life. He ends the call and puts his phone in his pocket, leaning both hands on the glass now and staring out at the sun-touched Hudson River, though I have a feeling he’s not really seeing it. As if he doesn’t know I’m here when he always knows I’m here.

Knowing what I have to do, I inhale and let it out. “I’m not going to the safe house,” I state.

He turns to face me, his gaze flashing with stubborn determination, and I’m certain this is about to get tricky. Liam needs control, but so do I. And this time, I’m going to have to own the moment, not him.





PART EIGHT

The Visitor

“WE’RE GOING TO THE SAFE HOUSE,” Liam states, his tone absolute. “Pack a bag.”

“What?” I gasp. “No. We aren’t hiding, remember?”

“We’re fucking doing whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

“Meg didn’t try to hurt me,” I argue, crossing to stand in front of him. “We’ll find her. You had my dresses delivered, Liam. We just talked about our wedding.”

“And we will get married, and you will have your dresses to choose from. But I was also sure we’d get Meg on camera. We didn’t. We’re flying in the dark.”

“I’ll call her and set up a meeting.”

“That could be a trap,” he reminds me stubbornly.

“Who says I have to be the one to show up to meet her?” I retort.

He shackles my arm and turns me, pressing me against the round white pillar beside the window, his big body crowding mine. “You can ‘not show up’ from the safe house.”

“You’re being stubborn, arrogant—”

“And remarkably right,” he finishes.

“Remarkably wrong, though you really do have arrogant down to a science.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, Amy.”

“Exactly,” I concur. “It’s not.”

The sound of Tellar clearing his throat warns us we are not alone, but neither of us looks at him. We stare at each other, continuing our battle without words, with the same outcome. Total, complete disagreement. Until finally it’s Liam who blinks, his jaw clenching as he softly promises, “We’ll talk when we’re alone,” and pushes off the wall to face Tellar.

Taking that as his cue to speak, Tellar announces, “Coco talked to her ex.”

I step next to Liam, my adrenaline still pumping from our confrontation. “And?”

“The CIA plans to find Meg and put her behind bars, along with anyone else connected to Sheridan, Rollin, or the consortium.”

“What about Jared?” Liam asks.

“That’s where things get interesting,” Tellar comments, sitting on the edge of the couch. “The minute Coco brought up his name, her ex went cold on her and ended the call.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, folding my arms in front of me.

“My guess,” Liam replies, “is that they have Jared but they don’t want us to know.”

“But Meg told me they have him,” I remind him. “As if it’s public knowledge.”

“Unless Meg shouldn’t know,” Tellar points out.

“Translation,” Liam says. “The CIA has a leak.”

“Exactly,” Tellar agrees. “In which case they’ll want her even more, to find out who it is. If we can confirm they have Jared and hand Meg over to them, this is all good news for us. All of our obvious loose ends are tied up.”

Liam settles his hands on his hips under his jacket, shaking his head in frustration. “We wouldn’t be dealing with this if Chad had conferred with us on this plan to ‘kill himself’ before he did it. We needed the layers Josh and Dante represent between us and problems before we were thrust back into the spotlight.”

“Isn’t that the damn truth,” Tellar says. “We need to lock Dante down as our man at the party tonight.”

“No party,” Liam announces. “We don’t have time to facilitate an informal meet-and-greet. We need to get down to business. I told Josh to get him here this afternoon.”

My brow furrows. “Why didn’t we do that in the first place?”

“Dante likes to assess people in a public setting before he talks business,” Liam explains. “Apparently he gets gut feelings about people, and that’s how he decides whether to allow an official business meeting.”

“Who the heck is this guy?” I ask, thinking this Dante person is taking arrogant to a whole new level.

“A former personal assistant to several presidents,” Liam replies. “The kind who was never on the record books. He’s not only good at what he does, he’s discreet, and he doesn’t get emotional about his decisions.”

“I’m sold with those credentials,” I say immediately.

“But can Josh really convince Dante to bypass his screening process?” Tellar asks.

“Dante trusts Josh, and I’ve worked with him once before through Josh.” His cell phone buzzes with a message and he digs it from his pocket and glances at it, his expression tightening. “Dante’s in the air and won’t land until right before the party.” He looks at Tellar. “Looks like I’m going to the party. I’ll make it worth his while to meet us at the safe house to formalize things.”

“Liam—” I begin, ready to fight, but he cuts me off.

“We’re going to the safe house, Amy, and you’re staying here tonight with Tellar.”

“Tellar just said Meg and Jared are all but nonissues at this point.”

“Meg is not a nonissue,” he warns me. “She’s desperately avoiding jail time, and desperate people are dangerous. Which is why I’m hiring Dante to deal with her. Until then, we’re going back to the safe house.”

The doorbell rings and Tellar stands, pulling out some device from his pocket and glancing at it. “I left the gates open for the delivery people and thanks to the mobile security feed I had installed on my phone, I can tell you that’s Saks with Amy’s dresses.” He heads for the doors and Liam’s cell phone rings.

Frustrated and needing space from the man I love and want to throttle right now, I follow Tellar to the door, overwhelmed by how many bags the—not one, but three—delivery people have in tow. I help him accept the bags, and together we make several trips to the bedroom.

He places the last bag on a rack in the walk-in closet and I try to decide which one to open first. “If I’d known which one had the wedding dress,” I comment, “I’d have sent the other bags back since apparently I’m not going to the party.”

Tellar levels a stare at me, a preface to a lecture, I am certain. “Amy—”

I hold up a hand. “I know everything you’re about to say.”

He gives me a long look, seeming to weigh his words. “Derek’s eager to see you. Why don’t I invite him over while Liam’s gone? It’ll keep your mind off the party.”

“I’m not feeling social, and I don’t want to drag him into this.”

He inhales and lets it out. “You and me it is, then. How about pizza?”

I try to smile. “Yes. Pizza.”

“It’s a date,” he says, giving my chin a tiny knock before leaving me alone in the closet.

I glance around the enormous space, eying Liam’s line of suit jackets and pressed shirts, the full-sized mirror along the back wall, and the long leather bench in front of it. It’s a beautiful space that until now, I’ve really not taken the time to enjoy. My space. Liam’s space. Our space. I don’t want to leave.

Fighting an onslaught of emotion I’d thought I was done with at the funeral, I walk over to a zipped heavy plastic bag and open it. Staring back at me is the most gorgeous pale pink lace dress I’ve ever seen. The top is strapless, the cut body hugging, and I pull it fully from the bag, delighted at the way it flares delicately at the bottom. It’s a Cinderella dress, fit for a fairy-tale wedding, when nothing about my life is a fairy tale.

Suddenly I have the urge to try it on and I quickly undress. I’m down to my bra and panties, my back to the door, when my skin prickles with that warm awareness that always washes over me when Liam enters the room. I whirl around to find him standing in the doorway, his jacket gone. His hair is rumpled as if he lost his ironclad control and ran his hand through it. He’s power. He’s masculinity. He’s leaning on the frame, his broad shoulders consuming the entryway, his presence consuming me.

And despite my anger at him, when his lashes lower, his gaze sweeping hotly up and down my body, a wave of tingly sensation washes over me.

“Don’t look at me like that, Liam Stone,” I scold. “I’m angry with you and we are not having sex.”

He arches one of those dark, arrogant brows. “Is that a challenge?”

“I’m angry at you.”

“I know.”

“Is that all you can say?” I demand.

“No, I—”

“Do you see this dress?” I all but growl at him, yanking the pink skirt in front of me. “This dress is what someone living a fairy tale wears, to marry the man she loves. And you know what? Earlier today, I could have convinced myself that was what I was about to do. But now we’re running again, after you told me not to run.”

I’ve barely finished my words before I’m pressed against the wall, his big body trapping me all over again. “Don’t bully me, Liam,” I order, shoving at the wall of his chest. “Don’t use your size to make me listen to you. It won’t work. I need control right now—you can’t have it.”

“Amy, listen to me.”

“Let go, and I will.”

He stares at me for several heavy seconds, seeming to weigh my seriousness. I tilt my chin up, letting him test my will with his own intense stare, but I do not waver. He notices, his body lifting from mine, his hands pressing against the wall on either side of me. I’m so out of my mind right now I want to pull him back. I know I’m lucky to have someone who loves me enough to want to protect me, but I’m angry with him. I’m hurt. I grab his shirt.

“We have no reason to believe we’re in danger. Not yet. So we’re staying until we do. We’re starting our life. End of story. Meg was a part of taking my brother from me. She’s not ruining my holiday or my wedding. I won’t let her.”

His expression softens. “Amy, baby.”

“Don’t ‘Amy baby’ me right now,” I warn.

“You wanted to leave after your nightmare.”

“And you convinced me to stay,” I remind him. “It worked.”

“We’ll do the holiday and our wedding, no matter where we are.”

“I need it to be here. I need a home I share with you. You can’t tell me I finally have the freedom I’ve craved for six years, and then take it away.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t. We have no solid evidence of danger. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

He pushes off the wall and covers my hands with his, settling them between us, the shadows of his past etched in his eyes and fighting this battle for him. “Amy—”

“I need to stay,” I repeat. “And so do you. You aren’t even working, Liam. When was the last time you picked up a pencil to design?”

“I’ll design again when you’re safe.”

“I managed fine for six years. I’m not with you for protection. I’m with you because I love you.”

The shadows in his eyes deepen. They’re the kind of shadows created by heartache, loss, and something else I know all too well. “I can’t lose you, Amy.”

His voice is pure anguish, and any hint of anger left inside me vanishes instantly. “You can’t defeat fear without facing it,” I whisper, repeating what he’d once told me.

I watch his face harden, darkness swimming in his eyes, and this time, it’s him that snaps. His fingers tunnel into my hair, his mouth closing down on mine, his tongue caressing mine with hot demand. The taste of him is pure darkness and torment, and his need to drive it away is downright primal. His body presses into me. I melt into him and one of his hands splays on my back, molding me closer. In an instant, my bra is unhooked, his hands cupping my breasts and teasing my nipples. I feel the energy between us, the shift in Liam, and even in myself. We’ve solved nothing about going or staying in the city, but there is a wall falling from between us, a part of Liam he fights, which he’s unleashed for me to see, feel, and experience.

He tears his mouth from mine, staring down at me with a vow. “I won’t lose you.”

In the next second he’s turned me to face the wall and my hands flatten on the hard surface to right myself. He steps to me, leaning close, his hips anchoring mine. “Losing you is my fear,” he confesses, his voice roughened by emotion.

“You won’t lose me,” I pant, my sex clenching as one of his hands slides into my panties and strokes my clit.


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