IT’SBEENTWODAYS since my night at Liam’s house, and I’ve finally moved into my condo. I lie on my couch, staring at the ceiling, and sink into the comfort of my independence. It’s an odd feeling to have something of my own. Even with the several security cameras and the system Dad reinforced my apartment with. It’s mine. Untouched by all the horrors of my childhood.
And as much as I want to enjoy the peace of it, I feel unsettled. The memory of how easily I handed that man control over me grates on my goddamn nerves. Pretty words wrapped in a beautiful package named Liam Brenner had me on my knees.
I would crawl on my hands and knees for you…
I snort, remembering the words he spoke so earnestly.
Kiss the fucking ground you walk on…
The reality of how much it hurts to lie to him like he’s just another job or another man scrambling for my attention with hopes of more. He’s the only man to speak to me and get me to listen.
I feel.
Seeing the pain Liam tried to hide when I was in the library… I wanted to take it from him.
Not push to inflict more, but take it away.
This man has shaken my world and turned me into some basic bitch with a desperate crush and hopes of fairytales and happily-ever-afters. I got the princess thing going for me already, but this is real life.
Liam and I are good versus evil—the same poles on a magnet destined to push each other away. He has no place in my world, and I have no place in his. I have no desire to play the part of a doting trophy wife to a man. It goes against everything I am.
I’ve spent so many years fighting against the standards of powerful men and their fucked-up views on women. Proving that tits and pussy can be just as ruthless and cruel as the men who play these criminal games with their dicks. But here I am, succumbing to a man who recognizes the broken pieces of my soul and uses them to coax my basic bitch fairytale mentality.
A knock sounds at my door, and I think about ignoring it before it becomes more insistent. Begrudgingly, I pull up the camera feed on my phone and see Oren and Breckin standing on the other side. Their backs are stiff, and I notice Breckin’s shifty eyes looking around the hall.
When I open the door, Oren takes me by the waist and leads me backward towards my living room. Breckin moves to shut down the cameras in the room.
“The fuck are you two doing?” I grumble, swatting at Oren’s hands.
He tries to level me with a look, but when I glare back, it falters. Oren doesn’t offer me a word until Breckin shuts us in, stands beside him, and faces me.
“Alright then, get on with it.”
Oren sighs, and I take in his disheveled features. In the last few days, he’s neglected shaving, and his eyes are heavy from lack of sleep.
“Followed Deavers like you asked.” Oren’s tone is low.
Whatever information he found, it’s big. The agent must get information from someone who is close enough to tap into my security.
“I know who's been feeding him information.”
Breckin and Oren exchange hard glances. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the fuckers are about to tackle me if needed. Maybe it’s the paranoia making my skin and hairs on the back of my neck bristle. Without conscious thought, I shift my body in response in case I need to fight them off.
Both men notice the movement and narrow their gazes.
“Deavers is fucking your mom, Mal,” Breckin says. My head snaps back like he just smacked me. His expression is conflicted, wondering if he should approach me slowly or stay put.
“Tawny—” Oren tries to finish, but I’m seeing red now.
My feet are moving, but arms encircle my waist to keep me from leaving.
I can’t focus on who has a hold on me but judging by the familiar grunt from behind me as I headbutt the fucker, it’s Breckin. I drive my elbow into his temple, making him loosen his grip so I can wriggle out of his hold, but Oren is there.
He places his hands on either side of my face, bending down to meet my heated gaze. “Focus on me, Malia. You can’t go home guns blazing when we need to look at the bigger picture.”
“The fuck is the bigger picture? That conniving cunt is a goddamn traitor!”
I can feel the venom spitting out of my mouth. The poison is boiling my blood, begging me to wrap my hands around her scrawny throat.