Published: June 9th 2023, 2:00:05 pm
Liam thinks he’s the king of the fucking world.
My lip curls as he patters around the room without care, utterly oblivious to the pure hatred coursing through me. He has no idea what I found, and I want nothing more than to spring it on him and demand answers.
I won’t, though.
He’s not going to get that warning from me. If I let him know what I found, he’ll undoubtedly be on edge. He’ll know I’m angry, and it’ll make him cautious.
I want him oblivious. I want him lulled into a false sense of security, thinking of me as some weak lovestruck woman who would never dare even think about acting out against him. But now that I know what he’s been doing, I’m done.
My wayward emotions for Liam are the only reason I’ve been following him around, letting him drag me from state to state like cattle. The old Katie, the one who didn’t know Liam existed, wouldn’t have put up with it. She’d have been out of here the first chance she got.
Liam left for two hours, and the thought of escape never crossed my mind. I could’ve been long gone by now, and I’d be entirely free of Liam and my father’s unnecessary control.
It must be Stockholm syndrome. That’s the only excuse.
Now I need to wait for another opportunity, which I’m sure Liam will give. He’s clearly growing to trust me, thinking I wouldn’t dare run away from him. He’s going to learn the hard way.
Liam glances at me, a smile toying at the corners of his lips before he belly flops on the bed I lay on.
“Liam!” I shout, bouncing in the air.
He laughs, clearly finding great pleasure in annoying me, but I don’t find it funny. He’s a fucking child, and I huff as I move away from him. He doesn’t get to act like everything is okay and try to cuddle with me after what he’s done.
“Do you want to play a game?” Liam asks, ignoring the way I glare at him. “I still have that deck of cards we found back at the cabin.”
I would rather be eaten by sharks than play a game with Liam.
“No,” I say, turning away.
Liam frowns, falling silent, before rolling onto his back and directing his attention to the TV. He put some 90s sitcom on after his shower, and he props himself up on his elbows as he watches. I’m surprised he’s not asking why I’m upset, but he probably thinks it’s because he told me he wasn’t interested in dating me.
I am still mad about that, but it’s nothing to how finding that message has made me feel. That message has me ready to kill.
I bet it was the fucking receptionist. She’s been making eyes at Liam since the moment we stepped foot into the hotel, and I should’ve known Liam wouldn’t be able to resist. Men never do. They think exclusively with their dick, and I was a fool to believe Liam was different.
He kills people for a living, for fuck’s sake. He’s obviously not a good person.
The sound of a phone ringing cuts through the room, and I lunge.
Liam’s phone is plugged in, and I shove the heel of my foot into his nose when he turns to grab it. He doesn’t realize immediately that I’m going for it, I’m not even sure if I do, but the slight head start is just enough.
“Fuck,” Liam gasps, grabbing my ankle.
My fingers close around his phone, and I rip it off the charger just as my leg is pulled back and I’m roughly dragged across the bed. I flip around, preparing to kick at Liam with my other leg, but he quickly pins down both my feet before throwing himself onto my chest.
His face is covered in blood, and it drips into my forehead as he reaches for my arm.
“Let me go,” I hiss, wiggling underneath him.
He’s too fucking heavy, especially when he’s sitting on my chest like a fucking child, and I open my mouth and begin to scream as he pries the phone from my hand. It’s my father, and I should get to talk to him.
Liam can’t keep treating me like this.
I have only a millisecond to scream before a meaty hand is slammed down over my mouth, effectively silencing me. I fucking hate it, and I try to bite Liam’s palm as he forcibly rips the phone from my hand.
I follow, trying to scratch him, but he easily ignores it as he brings the phone to my ear.
“Yes,” he says.
He sounds unnervingly calm, like he’s not gushing blood out of his nose while pinning me to the bed. I gnaw at his palm and try to rip his phone out of his hand, but I can’t reach it. I hate Liam. I absolutely hate him.
“Yes,” he says again.
I know he’s speaking to my father. I try again to scream, wanting my dad to hear and ask to talk to me, but the sound is too muffled through Liam’s hand.
Blood continues to pour out of his nose, and I grimace as it drips down his chin and onto my shirt. I must have broken his nose when I kicked him in the face. It was instinctual, and I refuse to feel bad for it.
“Yes,” Liam says a third time.
He pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up, and I writhe underneath him to try and break free. I want him off, and I hate how easily he can overpower me. Objectively I know there’s a power imbalance between us, but it’s one thing to know of it and another to experience it firsthand.
It’s frightening.
Liam tosses his phone aside and glares down at me, his expression venomous.
“We need to leave,” he says, tightening his hold on my mouth. “I’m going to let you go, but if you try to scream again, I’ll gag you.”
How dare he? I can’t believe I ever thought I had feelings for him, and any softness I ever felt vanishes as I shove at his chest and try to wiggle free from underneath him. Liam’s sure letting his true colors show today.
He removes his hand and climbs off me, and I kick him in the chest for good measure as he retreats.
“What’s wrong with you?” I hiss.
“What’s wrong with me?” Liam scoffs, sounding genuinely surprised. “You broke my fucking nose, Katie.”
He doesn’t have the right to call me that anymore. Only my friends and family call me by my nickname, and Liam is neither.
Liam wipes at his lip. The blood smears, and he glances at his wet hand before stepping into the bathroom to grab a towel. He emerges seconds later with a clean one, and he roughly wipes at the bottom half of his face before going to the closet mirror to look at it.
He tilts his face from left to right before grabbing his nose and snapping it back into place with a sickening crack.
I gag, both from the noise and the sight, before looking away. That’s disgusting.
“What did he say?” I ask.
Liam glances at me in the mirror’s reflection before shaking his head and turning away. His blood is still smattered on my forehead, and I wipe it off before climbing off the bed. I don’t want Liam getting any smart ideas and trying to pin me to it again.
If I’m standing, I’ve got a better chance of defending myself and getting away.
“Pack your things, Katie,” Liam repeats. “We’re leaving.”
Oh, now he’s got jokes.
“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s happening,” I say.
I’m done blindly trusting Liam, and if he wants me to do anything with him, he’s going to give me a reason. This is my life he’s fucking up, and I won’t take it lying down.
Liam ignores me, and I cross my arms over my chest as he shoves his few things into his bag and sets them on the bed. There are a few bloodstains on the comforter, which I’m sure the room cleaners will have an absolute field day with.
I wonder if they heard my screaming. It was only for a second before Liam shut my mouth, but I was loud.
Liam grabs my bag, and I lunge forward and rip it out of his hands before he can even think about beginning to pack my things. I’m not a child, and I refuse to be treated as one.
“I’m staying here,” I decide. “You can go frolicking off to fuck knows where, but I’m not going. Not unless you tell me what my father said and where you intend to take me.”
Liam wipes a dripping piece of blood off of his upper lip. He looks furious, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching. Good. Let him be angry.
“Is this because I don’t want to date you?” he asks.
I scoff. “Fuck you.”
This has nothing to do with Liam not wanting to be in a relationship with me. This has to do with his kidnapping and dragging me all around the fucking country with no explanation other than ‘just trust me.’
Liam takes a threatening step toward me, and I gulp as I inch away. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I can tell by his expression that I won’t like it.
“If you take one step closer to me, I’m going to scream,” I threaten.
I’ll scream my fucking lungs off.
“Please don’t do this right now,” Liam says, running a hand through his hair. “I need to get you out of here, and we don’t have time for one of your temper tantrums. I’ll explain everything to you on the way.”
Lies. Everything he says are lies. Liam has no intention of telling me anything, not unless I force it out of him.
I plant my feet on the ground, making it clear I’m not budging.
“Princess…” Liam trails off. “You’re only making things harder for yourself.”
I’m making things harder for myself? I think not. I think that, for once, I’m sticking up for myself. I can’t blindly trust that Liam has my best interest in mind, not when all he’s doing is keeping secrets from me.
A sharp knock on the hotel room door cuts between our angry glaring, and without meaning, my lips curl into a smirk. For once, I’ve got the upper hand. Somebody’s come up here to check in on us, probably because they heard my scream, and nothing is stopping me from admitting that Liam’s kidnapped me and I need help.
I won’t do that, even though I know I should, but Liam doesn’t know that.
As much as I loathe Liam, I’m not eager to get him arrested. My father’s been working hard to keep me hidden from the world, and I’m sure he wouldn’t be pleased with the attention I’d receive if it were found out that one of his guys had kidnapped and dragged me around the country.
“Catherine…” Liam says.
I grin at him, enjoying the nervous look he shoots me.
He’s scared of what I’m going to do. There’s another knock at the door, but before I can even register what’s happening, I’m being pinned to the floor by an oversized meathead.
My back hits the ground with a hard thump, knocking the breath out of me, and I grimace as Liam slams another hand down over my mouth and pins my wrists above my head. What the fuck does he think he’s doing?
I rip my head from side to side, trying to break free, as Liam drags my hands to my waist and kneels on them so I can’t move. My actions shift from angry to desperate as I try to break out from underneath him, not liking this.
This isn’t a Liam I recognize.
Liam grabs the strap of his weapon bag and drags it over, his actions quick and efficient.
“One second!” he shouts when another knock echoes through the room.
I try to scream, genuinely afraid, as Liam rifles through his bag and pulls out a needle. My pulse races as I eye it, and my vision grows blurry with tears as I try to get him off me. Why is he doing this?
I wasn’t going to say anything.
What’s he going to do to me?
“Please,” I beg into his palm, although I doubt the plea is heard.
Liam smoothly uncaps the needle before shoving it into my exposed bicep, and immediately I feel the burn of whatever he’s injecting into me. It quickly combats my panic, forcing my muscles to relax despite the raw fear coursing through me.
“I’m sorry, princess,” Liam whispers, pulling the needle out. “I really didn’t want to do this.”
It doesn’t matter what he did and didn’t want to do. What matters is what he’s actually done.
Liam recaps the needle and sets it into the hidden zipper of his bag before kicking it under the bed and climbing off me. I try to move, wanting to follow, but my muscles don’t cooperate. My vision doesn’t, either, and my head lolls to the side as Liam picks me up and everything goes blurry.
Everything then goes black as my eyes slip shut.
What did he give me? Clearly some sedative.
My face presses into his shoulder as he brings me to the bathroom, and I realize I can’t open my eyes just before I pass out.
My head pounds, and I’m pretty sure I will die if I don’t get some water into my throat in about thirty seconds.
I clench my eyes shut as I try to make sense of what’s happening, my mind groggy and unfocused. I should probably be panicked, but the emotion doesn’t come. I faintly remember Liam drugging me, the bastard, but I’m pretty confident he doesn’t intend to kill me.
It takes a few minutes for me to wake up enough to concentrate on a thought for longer than three measly seconds, but it’s enough time to realize I’m laid flat in the back of a moving vehicle and my hands are tied together in front of my body.
At least they’re not tied behind me like when Liam first kidnapped me.
I’ll never forget how it felt to fall in the crack between the front and back seats, and how absolutely embarrassing it was not to be able to get back up.
Liam probably thinks I’ll be grateful I’ve not been put in that position again.
Cracking open my eyes, I grimace as a beam of sunlight shines directly into my eye. It’s bright outside, so I assume not much time has passed since Liam took it upon himself to forcibly remove me from the hotel.
I wiggle my wrists, testing the tie holding them together, before craning my neck to peer down at them. Of fucking course. The pink fabric is bundled and knotted, but I can tell immediately that it’s one of my sports bras.
You’d think the elastic, stretchy material would make it difficult to tie, but whatever knot Liam did is effective. It probably also doesn’t help that my muscles are weak and limp from the sedative.
I glance further down my body, relieved to see I’m now dressed. I remember being in only my towel when Liam took it upon himself to attack me, and as much as I hate the thought of him clothing my unconscious body, I’m relieved I haven’t been lugged around in a tiny, damp towel.
Liam even shoved matching socks on my feet, and I wiggle my toes before turning to the side to look at the front of the car. My head rests behind the passenger seat, giving me the perfect view of Liam’s side profile.
He’s driving in complete silence, naturally, and my movement must be louder than I intend as a second later, he turns his head and quickly peers back at me. There’s a slight bruising under both his eyes, probably from me having broken his nose, but it’s faint.
I hope it hurts.
“You awake back there?” Liam asks, making brief eye contact before turning back to the road. His voice is unnervingly calm, almost like he hasn’t drugged, tied me up, and shoved me into the back of some car.
I tug at my arms, trying and failing to free my wrists. How did Liam manage to tie me so tightly with a damn sports bra?
Better yet, how did he even get me in this car without anybody noticing? There’s no way somebody would spot a man tossing a tied-up, knocked-out girl in the back of a car without saying anything or calling the police.
I bet he had the receptionist’s help.
“How are you feeling?” Liam continues.
I bite back a groan as I force myself into a sitting position. My temples pound, but Liam must be familiar with whatever sedative he’s given me as he grabs a water bottle from his center console and hands it back.
I glare at the side of his head as I struggle to grab it and untwist the top.
“Untie me,” I order.
My voice is rough, and I gulp down half the bottle before weakly twisting the cap back on.
Liam glances at me over his shoulder once more, and I resist the urge to move out of his view when his eyes dart toward my wrists. I bet the sick fucker gets off on this.
“I will once we reach the next exit,” he says.
I press my lips together and look out the window, unsatisfied with that response. We’re on a two-lane highway with extensive stretches of land on either side. There’s only one other car in front of us, and behind us is a giant semi Liam must have passed while I was still waking up.
“Where are we?” I ask.
Liam doesn’t immediately respond, not that I’m surprised.
“Are you okay?” he asks instead. “I expected you to wake up screaming and cursing at me.”
I don’t need the false affection. Liam’s made it more than clear he doesn’t care for me, at least not how I thought he did, and I’m uninterested in his pity.
“Where are we going?” I ask again, ignoring Liam’s question.
He purses his lips, and I tear open the water bottle and empty it while I wait for him to finish whatever internal conversation he’s having with himself. Normally I’d say I don’t have time for this, but considering I’m tied up in the back of a car with literally no idea where we’re going, I figure I’ve got all the time in the world.
Plus, the sedative has me groggy.
I drag my feet along the back of the car, my eyebrows furring as I look around the interior. This car is old, and I’m pretty sure I can hear the gears grating together from where I sit. Liam left his car behind in Pennsylvania, and I drop my chin to my chest as I try to recall him getting a new one.
He definitely didn’t mention anything about it, not that I’m surprised.
Liam seems to love his secrets.
“Katie—“ Liam starts.
I’m quick to interrupt. “Where’d you get this car from?”
By his tone alone, I can tell he wasn’t about to say anything helpful. Liam’s got a special voice he uses when he’s about to say something he knows I won’t like. It’s slightly softer than his usual one, and I refuse to let it work on me.
“Conveniently, I just got it earlier today,” Liam says.
Oh, wow. Who knew he could give an answer without catching on fire?
I scoff. “Busy day for you, then.”
Liam glances at me over his shoulder again, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. I won’t fall for it, and I chew at my bottom lip as I peer out the car window.
The silence that stretches between us is long and painfully awkward. I wish Liam would put some music on, but I don’t want to be the one to ask. Doing so is admitting that I’m uncomfortable, and I don’t want to give him that leverage.
“Are you not going to yell at me for sedating you?” Liam eventually asks, breaking the silence.
I blink, unsure how to respond, before deciding to remain quiet. He’s not stupid, and he knows it was a fucked up thing to do. He knows I’m pissed.
A few more minutes pass before we finally reach an exit to a rest stop, and Liam pulls to the side before parking in a secluded spot. It’s a good distance from the few other cars parked here, and I watch a father rush a pee-dancing young boy into the men’s room as Liam gets out and opens the back door.
I didn’t attempt to open it myself, but I already know it’s child locked.
Liam blocks my view of the other cars as he kneels on the back seat and reaches for my wrists. I hold them out, impatiently waiting to be untied.
“I thought you were going to try and attack me when you woke up,” Liam quietly admits. “That’s the only reason I tied you up.”
Is that supposed to make me feel better? It doesn’t.
Liam quickly removes the sports bra from my wrists, and I hurriedly pull away from him the second they’re free. I avoid eye contact, not wanting to encourage Liam any further, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on that social cue as his big, meaty hand cups my left cheek.
“Excuse you,” I huff, ripping my face out of his reach. “Don’t touch me.”
The tattoos on the back of his hand flex as Liam clenches and unclenches his fist. He looks torn on what to do, and I do my best to make that decision easy for him as I scoot to the far end of the car and reach for the seatbelt.
There’s a good chance that sitting in the backseat will make me sick, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
“We needed to leave right away,” Liam says, capturing my attention. “I’d have never done this if we weren’t in such a hurry, princess.”
I work my jaw side to side, and Liam clears his throat before continuing.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he admits.
I’m not afraid of him. I’m disgusted by him. I’m disgusted that he sat around and played this little romantic game of boyfriend with me. That he held my hand and had sex with me until I developed feelings.
He knew what he was doing, and he didn’t even have the courtesy to wait twenty-four hours after telling me he doesn’t want to be in a relationship before fucking somebody else. I may be a spiteful bitch on my best days, but I’d never do that to somebody.
“Katie, are you—”
Liam reaches for me again, and I smack his hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss.
My voice cracks, just my fucking luck, and I mentally curse myself as my eyes fill with tears a second later. I refuse to be one of those pathetic girls who cry in front of the man that’s hurt their feelings, and I bite my tongue in a sad attempt to distract myself with physical pain.
Liam coos, fucking coos. “Princess…”
God, I just want him to leave me the fuck alone.
“Don’t call me that!” My cheeks grow wet, and I angrily wipe the unwanted tears aside. “You don’t get to sit here acting all apologetic after what you’ve done. You don’t give a shit about me, and if you want somebody to fawn over so fucking much, you can hit up your receptionist again.”
I was supposed to keep that particular nugget of information hidden away for a rainy day, and I mentally curse myself for exposing my knowledge too soon. It doesn’t benefit me to tell him what I know now.
Liam’s narrowed eyes meet mine.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
I’m uninterested in playing this game, and I turn away as I wipe my cheeks again.
“We should keep moving,” I say, ignoring his question. “If it’s so urgent we leave, it’s not a good idea to sit at a rest stop arguing. Don’t want the bad guys to find us, now do we?”
I’m starting to think these bad guys aren’t even real. What if this is all just some elaborate ploy to ruin my life? I’m sure my father’s wife has been looking for years to have me moved away, her inability to understand that her husband’s affair with my mom had nothing to do with me.
Maybe she’s the one running the show, paying Liam to whisk me away and drop me off in some abandoned location. It’s a guarantee I’d come right back, so maybe he’s under strict orders to fuck up my life and crush my spirit until I have no interest in moving back to the city.
It’s a far-fetch idea, but most of the good ones are.
“What does the receptionist have to do with anything?” Liam asks, sitting back on his heel. He plants one hand on top of the car, out of my eyesight, as his torso takes up the entirety of the open doorway. “Why are you so obsessed with her?”
My blood boils.
“I don’t know, Liam,” I say, shooting him the dirtiest look I can muster when tears pour down my cheeks. “Maybe it’s because you’re fucking her.”
Liam must have been an actor in another life because the way he plays a confused man is borderline convincing. His jaw drops slightly, and his eyes go comically wide before he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Liam scoffs.
He’s such a liar.
“I’m not an idiot. I saw the text. ‘In the lobby, babe,’” I say, repeating the contents of the deleted message I found.
I sound like an insecure, jealous girlfriend, which is the opposite vibe I’m going for. I want Liam to think I don’t care about him or what he does, but my body refuses to cooperate. My cheeks are hot, and probably a bright red, and my clammy hands shake where they rest on my lap.
I’ve never been one to shy away from confrontation, especially when I think it’s deserved, but it’s nerve-wracking to bring up and discuss something like this. Liam’s made it clear he doesn’t have feelings for me, and I need to start acting accordingly.
Liam inches further into the car, his movements slow and cautious like I’m some wounded animal he’s afraid will suddenly lash out. It’s not out of the realm of possibility.
“I have a lot of connections, Katie, and that text was from a shady car dealer I met briefly when I was doing some business a few towns over a couple of years ago,” he says, his voice low. “She calls everybody babe, and she has a wife who I’m pretty sure would have my head if she ever caught word of me so much as looking at her wrong.”
I smash my teeth together, letting those words absorb. Is that plausible? I suppose if Liam did get this car today, which I don’t see when else he would’ve done it, it wouldn’t leave enough time for him to fuck the receptionist and do our laundry.
Still, that doesn’t explain why he was so secretive about it.
“Why’d you delete the message?” I ask. “And how did she know where to meet you and that you needed a car?”
Liam reaches for my knee, and I smoothly knock his hand away.
He huffs. “I deleted the message because you’re always going through my phone, and I didn’t want you thinking it was your dad and trying to call her. I reached out and gave her my number when I ran to the drug store to get you your diapers the other day. They had a payphone.”
I don’t appreciate how he brings up the diapers, and I shift uncomfortably as I realize there’s a giant pad in my underwear. I noticed it before, the bulky fabric hard not to feel, but I didn’t think anything about it until just now.
Oh, god. Did Liam put this on me?
I was free bleeding while waiting for him to return with the laundry. I’d go into the bathroom every few minutes to wipe, but I hadn’t gotten dressed before he sedated me.
I glance at Liam out of the corner of my eye, mildly grossed out on his behalf. If his asshole were bleeding, I’d have steered clear.
Liam stares at me, probably waiting for some response, and the attention makes my heart pound. A few tense seconds pass, and I anxiously rub at my wrists before turning to Liam and gesturing for him to get out of the back seat.
“I need to pee,” I say.
It’s a lie, and we both know it, but Liam doesn’t put up a fight as I push past him and climb out of the car.
I stare at myself in the mirror, annoyed with the pathetic face that looks back at me. I’ve always prided myself in remaining stoic around men who have hurt my feelings, and I can’t believe I let myself cry in front of Liam.
I blame it on the sedative. It’s got my brain all fuzzy, and coupled with the emotional turmoil that comes with being tied up and kidnapped, I’m clearly not thinking straight.
Sighing, I pull my hair out of my face to get a better look at myself.
My eyes are red, and my cheeks are splotchy. It’s not a good look, and I quietly tut as I turn on the sink and wait for the water to heat from ice-cold to lukewarm. It takes a few minutes, and I run my fingers underneath the stream until it’s at an acceptable temperature.
I help this helps calm my skin, and I cup my hands below the water to collect it before bringing it to my face. I’m hit with a nasty, metallic smell as I do so, and I internally cringe as I run my hands down my face and let the water drop down my chin into the basin.
Beggars can’t be choosers.
I drag my hand across the back of my neck afterward, the cold refreshing. It serves as a shock to my system, which is precisely what I need right now.
“Fuck me,” I mumble, making eye contact with myself in the mirror once more.
The water didn’t help, and, if anything, my face looks even splotchier than before.
I’m glad the bathroom is empty, and I peer under the stalls to double-check before lifting my t-shirt sleeve to examine the spot where Liam stuck me with the needle. The area is tender to the touch, and there’s a slight ache when I lift my arm, but the skin looks okay.
He better have used a clean needle.
Objectively, I know I should use this time to think over what I want to say to Liam when I leave the bathroom. He’s going to want to talk about it, he always fucking does, but I don’t wish to discuss it.
Instead, I shove the entire conversation we just had to the back of my mind. Even if he didn’t have sex with somebody else, that doesn’t excuse the fact that he very literally drugged and tied me up in the back of a car.
It was a scary and fucked up thing to do, and I can confidently say I’m not a fan.
I take a few more minutes to collect myself before making my way out of the bathroom. The parking lot is still mostly empty, and I give an older man a tight-lipped smile as I return to the car. The man stares, probably wondering why I look like a drowned cat, but I pretend not to notice.
Liam’s moved back to the driver’s seat, his forehead resting against the steering wheel as he waits for me to emerge.
I’m surprised he wasn’t standing directly outside the bathroom door. For all he knows, I could’ve run into somebody in there and begged for help.
He looks up as I approach, and I eye the car with a frown. If what he says about it is true, I suppose he didn’t have much choice in the vehicle he got. It’s not bad, but the paint is peeling and the exterior is covered in so much dirt, I’m surprised I can even see the black color underneath.
I’m not exactly a car expert, but I know an early 2000s Honda Accord when I see one.
“Katie…” Liam says through his open car window.
I give a jerky nod in his direction before walking around the car and pulling open the passenger door. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we arrive. I need space, and I’m not going to get that until we get to wherever the fuck we’re going.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Liam asks.
I shake my head and shut my door.
“I assume if I ask what your conversation with my father was about and why you felt compelled to drug and kidnap me again, you won’t answer.” I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve gotten helpful information out of Liam, and I know this will not be one of them.
He lets out a long sigh, confirming my assumption, before turning on the car and making his way out of the rest stop.
I rip at my cuticles and mindlessly count the mile markers we cross. At one point, we drive past a sign giving the distance to the upcoming three cities, but I don’t recognize any of them. Wherever we are, it’s desolate.
Wonderful.
Why can’t Liam ever take us somewhere cool, like Vegas or New Orleans? I’d even settle for Chicago or Seattle. I’ve always wanted to see the big bean, and I have a feeling Liam is a good photographer.
He takes direction well, and I think he’d only put up minimal complaints when I demand he takes a thousand photos of me with slightly different angles. It’s not like he’s got anything better to do with his time.
“It started with some shipments going missing…” I snap my head toward Liam’s so quickly that my neck cracks. “It wasn’t anything big, but then David’s wife started fretting about being watched. They found a tracker in her car, and David asked me to take you out of the city as a precaution until they figure everything out.”
My throat is dry, and I resist the urge to bounce in my seat as I stare at Liam. Is he actually telling me what’s going on? I didn’t think this day would ever come.
“David’s wife was killed last week, and there was an attempt on David’s life just this morning,” Liam admits.
Nicole’s dead? Somebody tried to kill my dad? The man is surrounded by armed meatheads twenty-four-seven, and I can’t imagine somebody getting close enough to try and kill him. At least, not successfully.
Liam clears his throat before continuing. “He thinks it was an inside job. Nobody knows I’m with you, but a few people know where I am and that I’ve been sent away on a private task. David’s worried one of them has flipped, and he asked me to go dark. That’s why we needed to leave so immediately.”
Oh, so there was true urgency to our departure. I thought Liam was bullshitting me, or at the very least, being dramatic.
Does this mean people are genuinely coming after me? To kill me? Liam took care of that man following us in the woods back at the cabin, but I thought that meant everything was better.
We moved just to be safe, but he left his car behind, which was the only way to track us.
“Where’s your phone?” I ask, scanning the center console. It’s nowhere to be seen, and blood rushes through my ears as I shift my attention to Liam’s pockets. Those look empty, too.
“I got rid of it,” Liam says. “Just to be safe.”
That’s good, and I let out a relieved sigh as I relax back in my seat. Somebody could use that to track us. I’m unsure how, but I’ve seen it happen in plenty of movies.
A metallic taste fills my mouth, and I wince as I release my bottom lip from my teeth. I’ve been nervously chewing at it, ripping at the dead, chapped skin as I contemplate what all this means.
Why would somebody kill Nicole? My dad never involved her in his business, so it’s not like she would’ve gotten on anybody’s bad side. I don’t want to die, and as safe as I feel with Liam, he’s only human.
He can’t realistically protect me from anything. Especially not angry, large men with guns.
“What happens if David dies?” I can’t help but ask. “You drop me off at the nearest rest stop and head back to the city?”
Liam is on my dad’s payroll, and if he’s dead, there’s not much reason for Liam to stick around. What if the new boss finds a way to call Liam and tells him to kill me? Liam says he won’t, but he’s just a meathead who follows orders.
He’s given me no reason to believe he would disobey them for me. He doesn’t even like me.
“David isn’t going to die,” Liam says.
That’s not the most comforting answer.
I tap my toes against the ground, feeling fidgety. “But what if he does?”
Liam shoots me a sideways glance before focusing back on the road. We’re coming up on another semi, and he smoothly moves into the left lane to pass before flicking on his turn signal and returning to the right.
“It doesn’t bode well for you if it’s found out that David has a child,” Liam eventually admits. “You don’t have a dick, which is helpful, but people in my world can be weird about bloodlines. They act like they’re fucking royals or something.”
This is the first time I’ve ever heard Liam speak poorly about my father’s not-so-secret, secret line of business. Who knew he had opinions my dad hasn’t ingrained in him?
Still, my heart pounds. I don’t give a shit about my dad’s work or what he does and doesn’t do in his life. I’m nothing more than the product of an affair he had twenty-something years ago, and I’ve never been involved.
My mom raised me as a single parent until she died, and even then, my communication with David has been minimal. He sends checks every once and a while, and he calls even less frequently. That’s all there’s ever been.
He’s probably got like a hundred kids. These men always do.
“How does it bode for you?” I ask.
Liam looks like he doesn’t want to answer.
“I’m up on the totem pole, but I’m not involved in the execution attempts, so I’d say it doesn’t bode well for me, either,” he admits. “Whoever’s trying to kill David is likely gunning after his spot themselves, and that makes me competition.”
Liam visibly hesitates before continuing. “It also doesn’t look good that we’ve been hiding out together. I marry the boss’s daughter, officially become part of the family, and I’ve got stronger ties. They’d think I’m playing the long game, and that puts us both at risk.”
Oh, that’s absolutely fantastic.
The man sent to keep me safe is also putting a larger target on my back. I never thought I’d say this, but I almost miss the grimy, old men my father sent to watch over me before. They were either already married or too old to even be considered.
I also never would’ve caught feelings for them.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, changing the subject.
I don’t want to think about this anymore, let alone talk about it.
“South Carolina,” Liam says.
South Carolina? What the fuck is in South Carolina? My gaze travels to Liam’s forearm, where I know the tree from their flag is inked into his skin. It’s where he’s from, so I suppose he feels familiar with the state.
“Where in South Carolina?” I pry.
Liam presses his lips together. “It’s a small city you’ve never heard of before. We’ll be safe there and have a comfortable place to stay for as long as we need.”
I don’t like the sound of this.
“…Liam,” I say.
He grimaces. “I’ve never told any of David’s crew where I’m from or my government name. I’ve always kept it a secret, and I doubt you want to stay in another cabin or hotel for an indefinite amount of time.”
I run a shaky hand through my hair. “Please tell me we’re not going to your hometown or something.”
Liam doesn’t respond, which alone is answer enough.
“Where exactly are we staying?”
This isn’t what I should be focusing on, I’m fully aware of that, but I need something small and unimportant to distract myself with before I lose my ever-loving mind. I can tell I’m only seconds away from a complete mental breakdown, and the residual haziness clouding the edges of my mind from that sedative doesn’t make me feel any better.
I’m scared and uncomfortable, and my limbs feel like jello. If something goes wrong, I have absolutely no means to protect myself.
Not that I did before, but at least I could run.
I doubt I’d make it even a quarter of a mile before I roll an ankle on a pebble and get shot in the back of the head. If things are as serious as they seem, Liam should give me a gun. I deserve the right to protect myself.
“My mom has a spare bedroom, and she doesn’t ask questions,” Liam eventually says.
What? I’m going to fucking kill myself—and Liam.
I wait patiently for Liam to tell me this is all just some sick joke, but he doesn’t. Of course, he doesn’t.
Instead, he continues driving, focusing on the road as he flicks on his turn signal and makes his way around another semi-truck. I’m horrified.
His mother’s house?
I get along well enough with mothers, assuming they aren’t one of those bat-shit ‘my son is a perfect prince and no woman will ever be good enough for him’ types. Knowing Liam, that’s probably the exact type of mother he has.
I can’t think of any other reason why he’d be trying to stay with her.
Is that not super weird? He’s acting calm, like this is an everyday occurrence and completely normal, but I can’t be the only one to think it’s odd. What even is his thought process?
Oh, I’ve got some random girl with me, and we’re trying to keep away from a bunch of guys who most definitely want to kill us. Why don’t I take her to stay with my mom?
That makes perfect sense. Not.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask. “What if they find you? Wouldn’t this be putting your mom at risk, too?”
Liam shakes his head. “I got in some trouble when I was nineteen, and I moved to New York with a fake ID. My first name is Liam, but everything else David and the crew knows about me is made up. I’m not too worried about them figuring out who I am or where I live. Nor do I think they’d put in that much effort.”
That doesn’t add up. Liam’s been working closely with my father for almost ten years, and I find it hard to believe he’d have never shared anything personal about himself. That’s a level of detachment he should see a therapist for, and if it’s true, it makes no sense why he’d be bringing me home.
If he hasn’t told anybody else for ten years, why trust me with the information?
At the end of the day, Liam doesn’t know me that well. At least, not well enough to trust me with information that could put his family in danger.
Unless he secretly hates his mom.
I turn and stare at the side of his head, still mildly pleased by the darkening bruises blooming under his eyes. I’ve never broken somebody’s nose before, and I hope my actions have made it clear to Liam that I’m not to be messed with.
I may be smaller than him, but I know how to kick.
I’ve got heels of steel, and my ankle power isn’t something to mess around with. Growing up in New York City has given me sturdy feet, and I’m not above using them.
“I really am sorry for sedating you, Katie,” Liam says, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t expecting somebody to come to our room, and with you throwing a fit and the phone call I’d just gotten, I panicked.”
He sounds genuine, but I don’t acknowledge it. I’m choosing not to dwell on it because I will get beyond upset if I think too deeply about it. It was terrifying having somebody twice my size pin me down and forcibly drug me, and Liam fucking knows that.
For all the talk he likes to make about keeping me safe, that felt like a direct contradiction. It was violent.
“Did you at least use a clean needle?” I ask.
Liam’s quick to answer. “Yes.”
I spot him looking at me from the corner of my eye, but I continue staring straight ahead. It’s not until I see his grubby hand moving that I react, and I harshly smack the back of his wrist as he reaches for me.
Liam doesn’t deserve to touch me, not after everything he’s done.
I’m tired of playing the game of will-he, won’t-he, and the mixed signals are messing with my head. Liam’s made it more than clear he doesn’t want to have a relationship with me, and it’s cruel to follow that up by trying to hold my hand a few hours later.
He doesn’t know what he wants, that much is painfully evident, but I’m not some toy to yoink around while he figures it out.
If he can’t make a decision, I’ll make one for him.
Sighing, I reach over and turn on the radio. The speakers are grainy as fuck, of course, but I fiddle with the dial until I find a station with minimal static. It’s playing twangy country music I’ve never heard before, but I like it.
Anything is better than silence.
“How long is the drive?” I ask.
The only good thing about being lugged around the country by Liam is that he does all the driving. I’ve got a license, but I’ve never bothered to learn. There’s never been a need for me to drive, and I took the subway everywhere I needed to go.
Liam sighs. “We’ve got about six hours left, give or take.”
Six hours? I glance at the clock, already dreading what the rest of this trip will look like. I’m going to need a few bathroom breaks considering I just chugged an entire bottle of water, am on my period, and have a bladder the size of a walnut.
That means, if we’re lucky, we’ll be arriving around eight tonight. That’s literally the worst time ever. It’s too early to go to bed and escape to this spare room Liam insists his mom has, but it’s too late to go outside or do anything productive.
My anxiety comes out when the sun goes down, and seven to ten at night is my most anxious time.
Liam looks at me again, his jaw flexing like he wants to say something, but after a second, he shakes his head and turns back toward the road. I’m not sure what’s going through his head, but I have a feeling I don’t want to know.
The second we get to his mother’s house, I will be rifling through his bag and stealing the rest of those fucking needles. It’ll be a cold day in hell before Liam ever drugs me again.
I bet it wasn’t even the good medical stuff, either.
Who knows what the long-term repercussions of his black-market sedatives are? For all I know, it could have killed my most vital brain cells. I feel fine, minus a lingering headache and a nasty, metallic taste in the back of my throat, but that doesn’t mean anything.
I rest my temple against the car window and shut my eyes, hoping to sleep this ride away. The movement of the vehicle is oddly soothing, and maybe if I get just a bit more sleep, I’ll feel better when I wake up.
A nap always fixes things.
I doze in and out for about an hour before the pressure on my bladder is too intense to ignore, and I cross my ankles as I debate whether or not I want to hold it. Usually, I’d say yes, but I need to change my pad, too.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I say.
Liam’s fingers twitch against the steering wheel before he gives a curt nod.
“I’ll take the next exit.”
If there’s anything Liam’s good for, it’s knowing when he needs to be quiet. Some people never pick up the social cues, but it seems silence is Liam’s default. It probably doesn’t make him fun at parties, but it works when he’s your kidnapper.
Hopefully, if my father dies and Liam’s recalled like a faulty machine, he’ll keep that same attitude.
I’d appreciate him not spreading the word of my existence, and I figure it’s the least he owes me after everything he’s put me through these past few weeks. I like to think he’d be upset to see me dead.
Maybe I can get on his mom’s good side. I’m willing to bet money that Liam’s a mommy’s boy, and perhaps if I can get her to like me, he’ll be hesitant to share the information that would very likely get me killed.
I still don’t even understand why he’s taking me to his home in the first place. It’s clearly some big secret of his, so it doesn’t make sense. Am I really that little of a threat?
For all he knows, I could be working with the people trying to kill my dad. They’ve already killed his wife, Nicole, so I know they mean business.
I could be a businesswoman.
Liam, as promised, makes his way to the nearest bathroom. It’s a good twenty minutes before we finally reach one, and he doesn’t even try to threaten me into silence when we see how busy it is. At least ten cars are parked here, and three families sit at nearby picnic benches eating homemade lunches.
I could do some damage if I wanted.
Instead, though, I grab a pad out of my bag that Liam stuffed in the trunk and make my way into the women’s room. Liam hits up the vending machine, naturally, and by the time I return to the car, the passenger seat is full of snacks I know he doesn’t eat.
Is this his way of apologizing?
I grab and move everything aside before taking a seat and ripping open a bag of Doritos. It’s the purple flavor, my absolute favorite, and I loudly chomp as Liam makes his way back onto the road.
The country station I found eventually grows staticky, and I pout as I turn the dial to a new one. This one is 90s R&B, and I hardly find myself surprised when Liam’s fingers begin to tap against the steering wheel in rhythm with the music.
Is he a Destiny’s Child fan?
It’s several more hours and three bathroom breaks later that Liam finally pulls off the highway.
I place my hands over my mouth to hide my expression as we drive down an absolutely barren road, and I do my best not to look too horrified as I eye the sheer amount of farms surrounding us. It’s dark, so maybe I’m mistaken, but there’s nothing but grass and plants as far as the eye can see.
Is this where he’s from?
Liam may think this is better than the hotel, but at least there were things to do in the area.
If I got bored, I could go to the bar or head outside and get ice cream. There was even a grocery store down the street, not that I ever went. Still, I liked having the option.
This place is fucking desolate.
“You’re from the farm?” I ask.
Liam snorts. “There are a lot of farms here, but I can’t say I was raised on one. My mom lives closer to the city.”
Oh, that’s good.
I lean back in my seat, beyond relieved to hear that. A city means people and things to do. Liam’s gotten a bit more relaxed recently about letting me out of his sight, and I hope that means I can go out and do things on my own.
We drive for a few more minutes before I finally see something that could resemble a city, but it’s still painfully small. A handful of buildings line the left and right sides of the road, and while they look nicely kept, it’s clear they’re old.
There is one ice cream shop, and we pass what’s either a music venue or movie theater before turning onto a slightly busier road.
Cars are parked on the street, and a few people are walking around, but it’s nowhere what I’m used to seeing in New York.
“This is the main strip,” Liam says, gesturing to either side of the road.
This? I suck my lips into my mouth with a jerky nod. I suppose it could be worse. The people look clean, not covered in dirt with fishing poles slung over their shoulders as I feared.
Liam confidently navigates through the city, not that you could really call it that, and he occasionally points out the buildings we pass. There’s a school that looks about a third of the size of the one I went to, and we pass a grocery store that’s apparently called a Piggly Wiggly.
A few seconds later we pass a Whole Foods, though, which makes me feel a tiny bit better.
We turn off the main road and drive down a few side streets until Liam pulls up in front of a small, ranch-style home. It’s admittedly pretty cute, and I assume by the Tesla in the driveway that this must be Liam’s mom’s house.
The expensive car sticks out compared to all the minivans, pickup trucks, and sedans I’ve seen driving around. Other than the car, though, the house seems pretty normal. It’s covered in a light blue siding with white window trim, and the small gardens that line the covered porch and side yard are immaculate.
It’s suburbia central, and I raise a brow as Liam pulls into the driveway and kills the engine.
This is where Liam grew up? I can’t believe it.
We sit silently for a long minute, both of us staring at the house.
“Do you need a few minutes?” Liam asks.
I sigh. “It’s not like it’ll help any,” I say, pushing open the car door. I’m not looking forward to this.
Liam places a hand on the small of my back as we approach the house, and I resist the urge to shrug it off before hesitating.
“What are we telling your mom that we are?” I ask.
It’s always expected I play some role, and it’s better I know my part before we get inside. I’d hate for Liam and me to have conflicting stories or behaviors.
Liam clears his throat.
“We’re friends,” he says.
I suck in a slow breath, struggling to keep my annoyance to a minimum. It seems I’ve been demoted, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I step forward and shrug his hand off my back.
“Then you don’t need to be touching me.”
Liam drops his arm back to his side, but his body practically oozes tension. I know he isn’t happy with my reluctance to forgive him and return to my usual cheery self, but I can’t help it. It hasn’t even been a full day, and I need to sleep on this anger before deciding how I want to move forward.
Not that I have much of a choice. Liam holds all the power here.
The realization makes my chest burn, and I continue toward the house before it grows. The sooner we do this, the sooner I can retreat to a bedroom and spend some much-needed time to myself.
I really hope I have an ensuite bathroom.
Liam steps in front of me, taking the lead as he confidently raises his fist and knocks on the door. I immediately hear a dog begin to bark, the tone and volume indicating it’s a small, yappy one. I don’t dislike dogs by any means, and I’d go as far as to say I typically enjoy their company, but I don’t have the patience to deal with a small rat-like critter trying to claw at my ankles right now.
Rolling back my shoulders, I mentally prepare for the sound and commotion that’s about to overwhelm my already stressed-out senses.
The door is pulled open, but before I have the opportunity to see the woman on the other side, Liam’s being yanked forward and awkwardly bent in half. A muffled grunt emerges from his throat as arms wrap around his shoulders and squeeze, and I shift my weight from foot to foot as I watch him hug the person in return.
“Hi, Mom,” he mumbles, pulling away.
The woman looks hesitant to release him, not that I can see much from my position behind Liam. I clasp my hands behind my back as Liam steps to the side, finally exposing his mother.
My jaw drops. I’m not sure what I was expecting Liam’s mom to look like, but it sure as fuck wasn’t this.
She’s shorter than I thought she’d be, considering how tall Liam is, but at a second glance, I realize she’s probably an average height. Her shoulder-length gray hair is pulled out of her face with a giant butterfly clip, and two gold undereye masks rest on her cheekbones. None of those things alone are that shocking, but when joined with the hot pink velour sweatsuit she’s wearing, it’s a lot.
All I can see when I look at her is the mom from Mean Girls.
There’s even a tiny happy dog running around our feet, and I swear to god, if it starts gnawing at her nipples, I will lose my ever-loving mind. Given the complete and utter clusterfuck that’s become my life these past few months, I wouldn’t be surprised.
My life is a movie. An incredibly cheesy fucking one, at that.
“This is my friend, Katie,” Liam says, introducing me. He reaches for me before awkwardly clenching his fist and dropping it back to his side. “And this is my mom, Beth.”
Beth shoots me a wide grin before excitedly stepping forward and pulling me into just as aggressive of a hug as she did with Liam. I’m partially expecting it, and I politely return the hug before pulling away.
“It’s so wonderful to meet you,” she says, taking a firm hold of my shoulders as she gives me a quick scan head to toe.
I’d pay good money to know what’s going through her mind right now, and I keep my mouth shut as she turns back to Liam.
“Are you here to stay?” Beth asks.
Liam nods. “For a while, if you don’t mind.”
Beth furrows her brows, looking mildly confused and offended by Liam’s suggestion that she would mind, before stepping back into the house and waving us inside. Liam gestures for me to enter first, and I plaster a polite smile on my lips as I do.
The interior is just about what I predicted. It’s cozy, with a bit of a rustic farmhouse vibe I’d expect from a southern mom’s house, but it’s tasteful. The front door opens to a wide entryway, and I kick off my shoes on the mat to the left while Liam tosses his keys on the thin table to the right.
He shuts the door behind us, and I eye the kitchen at the end of the entryway and the living room doorway to the right as Liam kicks off his shoes.
“Of course, I don’t mind,” Beth says, entering the kitchen. “The sheets in the spare bedroom haven’t been changed in a while, but there are fresh ones in the hallway closet.”
Liam and I follow her into the kitchen. It’s spacious, and to the left is a hallway I’m pretty sure leads to bedrooms and bathrooms. I have only a second to look before Liam pulls out a chair from the kitchen island and gestures for me to sit.
I do, painfully aware that Beth is watching our every interaction through narrowed, calculating eyes. I wouldn’t say I like it.
“I’m sure the sheets are fine,” Liam says, leaning against the island.
He’s so close I can feel his body heat warming me through the back of my shirt. I want to move away and put some much-needed distance between us, but I don’t want to draw any attention to our proximity.
Why can’t Liam ever give me space? He’s like a pesky bug drawn to light. It’s probably because I shine so bright from within. Like a diamond, as Rihanna says.
Beth gives Liam a nonplussed, disgusted stare.
“You’re going to make Katie sleep on dirty bed sheets?” she asks.
My lips twitch, and I aimlessly tap my fingers against the kitchen island as I watch a flush rise up Liam’s neck. It settles in his cheeks, turning them a bright shade of red.
It’s a rare occurrence that I witness Liam blush, and it’s easily one of my favorites.
I love it when the men who kidnap and ruin my life feel shame, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my smile from spreading. Maybe I’m going to like Beth more than I initially thought.
I was terrified she and Liam would have some weirdly uncomfortable relationship, and I’d have to awkwardly stand by while she constantly belittled me with the excuse of being a boy mom who knows her Liam-baby best.
I hate momma’s boys, and I’ve dated one too many guys who somehow think a relationship with a woman means having their socks picked up and every meal cooked.
Liam pushes his hair out of his face before giving a curt shake of his head. “Of course not. I’ll change them before she goes to sleep.”
Beth nods, pleased with the answer, before shifting her attention to me.
It takes everything in me not to wither under her sharp gaze, and I find myself thankful for the small dog I once dreaded as it jumps at Beth’s leg, capturing her attention. Her lips purse as she glances down at it, and a small coo slips from her lips as she bends and picks the tiny critter up.
It only adds to her image of the mom from Mean Girls.
“So, how do you two know one another?” Beth asks, glancing between Liam and me.
My pulse races, and I’m relieved when Liam jumps in to answer.
“Through work,” he says.
Beth sucks her cheeks into her mouth before giving a slow nod. I wonder how much she knows about Liam’s work, but given his earlier statement that she knows enough not to ask, I assume she has some inkling.
What does that make her think of me? A small part of me likes the idea of people thinking I’m some super-secret assassin or something. It’s kind of cool, and it adds a bit of mystery to me.
“Great,” Beth chirps. It doesn’t sound entirely genuine, the mention of Liam’s work visibly dampening her mood. “You look exhausted, so I won’t badger you with questions tonight. I’ll see you two in the morning.”
She spins on her heel and disappears down the hallway without another word, her tiny dog clasped tightly in her arms. It peers at us over her shoulder, small beady eyes tracking our every movement.
I wait for her bedroom door to shut before working up the courage to face Liam.
“That was brief,” I say.
He nods. “She has an early bedtime, and I’ve made it quite clear in the past that I need time to decompress before facing her onslaught of questions.”
Silence stretches between us, and I rest my head in my hands as I sink into my chair. Today’s been exhausting, and I’m ready to sleep for the next week.
“You have your own room, don’t you?” I ask, wanting to make sure.
I don’t want to share a bed with Liam any longer. I found myself selfishly enjoying it before, but after these past few days, I want to end it. It’s hard to lose all feelings for Liam at the drop of a hat, as much as I wish I could, and I need space if I have any hope of doing so.
“I do,” Liam confirms.
That’s good, and I let out a deep sigh as Liam walks to the front door. I listen carefully as he slips on his shoes and disappears, but it’s only for a minute or two before the door creaks open and is shut once more.
I don’t move, and Liam wordlessly carries our bags into the kitchen. I stare at his feet out of the corner of my eye, relieved he’s wearing socks. His bare feet are gnarly.
“Katie?”
I resist the urge to sigh as I look up and meet his eye. “Yes?”
“Do you need anything? Food? A drink?” Liam asks, rocking back on his heels.
He’s wearing the same guilty expression I saw earlier in the car, and I know it’s because he drugged me. He feels bad about it, that much is painfully obvious, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to forgive him.
He showed me his true colors, even if it was in a moment of panic, and I won’t forget it.
Liam taps his foot against the floor, not so patiently waiting for my answer.
“No,” I say. “I don’t need anything.”
An extended few seconds stretch between us.
“Are you sure?” Liam asks.
I think he’s trying to drive me crazy. Liam’s constantly testing my patience, but I don’t have the energy to deal with it tonight. My head still aches from the black market, brain cell destroying sedative, and my social battery is drained from my short interaction with his mother.
She was friendly, but I was so worked up that it took more out of me than usual. All I wanted to do was scream that Liam kidnapped me and I’m a prisoner, and my chest physically ached with the effort it took to hold my desperate pleas back.
I nod, and Liam’s chest expands before he peers down the hallway his mom disappeared down a few minutes ago.
“Would you like me to show you to your room?” he asks.
I slide off the stool and gesture for Liam to lead the way. He does, his movements slow as he walks down the dark hallway. The first door we pass is a bathroom, and I quickly peer inside to see if it’s a full or half-bath.
It’s a full, and I eye the shower with want before hurrying to catch up with Liam.
“This is my room,” he says, gesturing to the door on the left. He makes no attempts to open it before turning to the right. “And this is yours.”
Clearing his throat, he turns and opens the door for me.
I step inside, my gaze flickering to the queen-sized bed in the center of the room before moving to the dresser in the corner and the small TV on top of it. It’s a basic room, with little decoration or personality, but it’s exactly what I need.
There’s a door on the right, and I hold my breath as I turn the knob and push it open. My knees just about collapse when I see the shower, toilet, and sink. There’s an ensuite bathroom, and I hold back tears of joy as Liam enters the room behind me and sets my bag on the floor.
He’s gone a second later, leaving without so much as a goodbye, and I stare at the open doorway with a frown. That was rude.
My thoughts are cut short when he emerges with an armful of sheets, and he avoids eye contact as he smoothly strips the bed of the old ones. I’m sure they’re fine, but the selfish part of me that enjoys seeing Liam cater to me keeps me quiet.
He’s efficient, and I lean against the bathroom doorframe as I wait for him to finish.
“Feel free to come into my room if you need anything,” Liam says, setting the comforter back on top. “We can go shopping tomorrow to get food, but you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen in the meantime.”
I nod, already knowing I won’t be leaving this room until absolutely necessary.
Liam licks his lips and bundles the old sheets in his arms.
“Katie…” he starts.
I’m quick to cut him off, not wanting to hear it.
“I’m exhausted,” I say, politely excusing him.
Liam meets my gaze, looking like he wants to argue before he gives a slight dip of his chin and disappears. He shuts the door behind him, and I collapse face-first on the bed the moment I’m alone. It takes precisely four seconds for the tears to come, and I pray nobody can hear me as I shove a pillow into my mouth to hide my sobs.
___
Poor Katie 😭