“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone, Cortes?” Dad grinds out, now fully facing both of them.
Donovan’s eyes give me a quick sweep. The intention is lost to me, but I’m sure it has something to do with me already on my feet and arguing with our dad. He dismisses me quickly and turns his attention back on the angry force staring him and his girlfriend down.
“I was checking surveillance when Salvi was taking her breakfast and her cell was left wide open and her no where to be seen,” Hazel says, her hands fidgeting with her shirt.
I’ve seen men cry from just the intensity of my dad’s glare, the fact she can form sentences still are impressive.
“Hazel called me immediately and I sent Salvi to search the grounds with a few others to hopefully cut her off, but—” Donovan shakes his head and swallows.
He’s never been good with going toe-to-toe with our dad. Even the more reason he’s not meant for the role he’s been given. I swallow a scoff.
“Butwhat, Donovan?” Dad yells and the force of it even raises the hair on the back of my neck.
Dad never loses composure, always calm and collected.
“We don’t know how long she’s been gone. Our cameras were tapped into, and the feed was put on a loop,” Donovan says with a sigh. He looks like he wishes he could be anywhere but here right now.
“I’m working on trying to narrow down when the loop starts, that will at least give us some sort of timeframe,” Hazel quickly adds.
Dad cants his head. “It looks like you’re standing here doing nothing, Cortes. Leave now and do what I pay you for.” He then looks at my brother. “You’ll help look for your mother, go!” Donovan nods and both run out the door to do what they were instructed. Dad rounds on me and I raise an eyebrow. “Is Liam still here?”
“Yes,” I clip, not offering any more information than that. He will get the bare minimum from me until all of this is resolved. Even then I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust him again.
He blows out a breath to try to calm his temper. “Bring him here,” he demands, and my feet are moving.
If it hadn’t been for my mother’s disappearance I’d have stayed and fought him. Once we get our hands on her again, all games end.
Along with her pathetic life.
LIAM IS STILL ASLEEP when I reach my room. It seems he’s made himself a little more comfortable since I left him. He’s hugging one of my pillows while lying on his stomach, the fabric from his shirt raised enough to show the muscles in his defined back.
I step toward him, curious how he is sleeping so well in an unfamiliar place. He doesn’t trust us here, that much is clear. Yet he’s giving me his most vulnerable side by cutting off the world in my own bed.
My knees brush the edge of the bed and his hand snaps out, pulling me down as he flips to his back. I land on top of him then he rolls so I’m underneath. Tears gather in my eyes from the roughness of it and the pain it causes my wound.
It takes a lot of effort not to yell out against the pain, but I bite it back, not willing to give him the benefit of a slight weakness. His blue eyes are locked on mine, and I blink away the tears before they fall as he continues to crush my injury.
For all I know he could be doing it intentionally. My dad told him I was injured, and he saw the blood on me when he arrived. His thumb reaches up and traces the scar that marks my face.
“Who hurt you, Malia?” Liam asks, there’s softness in his icy depths and I forgot how beautiful they were when they looked at me like that.
His questions hangs in the air. It would be easier to tell him who hasn’t hurt me than to list all those that have. His specific question pertains to the person behind marring my face and almost blinding me. But that is only one scar amongst thousands more by the same person. Some you can see, some you can’t.
Liam’s thumb rubs against my cheek and I sink into the feeling of him. I press against him not wanting to fight against this hold we have on each other. I’ve done enough fighting tonight and I’d almost tell Liam anything he wanted for some semblance of peace.
When I go to speak my words are lost as his lips fall to the crook of my neck, pulling a gasp from my mouth instead. His hand leaves my face as it meets mine and he entangles our fingers while he kisses and licks at my neck, jaw, and ear, still avoiding my mouth.
Liam centers himself on top of me and I can feel his growing length fit perfectly on my heated center. I moan when he grinds against me, and I silently curse the fabric separating us. He releases my hand letting both of his travel down my sides and when he grazes over my wound, my body stills while I suck in a breath to hold back the yelp. For a short moment I had forgotten that I was injured. I don’t know why I don’t want him to know, probably because of the lack of trust between us. Liam has never made me think he would hurt me outside of when we fuck. We also haven’t spent a lot of time together since the first time either.
He must notice my hesitation because he rips his lips away from my chest and furrows his thick brows at me.
“What’s wrong?” he asks when I don’t say anything. Leave it to Liam to put it together and he raises his body and lays down beside me. He reaches out, taking my chin and turning my head toward him. “How bad are you hurt?”
A mix of irritation and warmth spreads through me. The fact I let him stop because I didn’t want him to see my injury and find a weakness fucks me off to the point I almost straddle him and fuck him. The warmth because he still cares. It’s obvious he hates it, but I’ll take any bit of the Liam Brenner that Mila had and relish in it.
“My dad sent me back to get you,” I say with a shrug. “Guess he wants to finish the conversation you were having before you guys cut off my mission of vengeance.”
A smile tugs at his full lips and my fingers itch to reach up and trace it. Sear it into my memory in case he never offers me such a gift again.