“You keep saying that and I might just make that happen. If you have questions, next time ask.” Liam pauses and looks down at his phone. “Unlike you, I don’t have anything to hide.” Without giving me another glance, he starts out of the room before stopping at the door. “Find a way to get me a new phone, I need to be able to stay in touch with my sister.”
I snort. “And do what? She’s already at risk for just being your sister, Liam.”
“I wasn’t fucking asking. You let me worry about Xana, now get me a goddamn phone.”
Liam storms off and I hear him clammer down the stairs before the front door opens and slams shut. I sigh and step around the room feeling the ground for any loose floorboards. When I find what I’m looking for, I grab my dagger and stash it inside. More for peace of mind that he can’t take it than needing it. It’s far too precious to me for Liam to take and lose just to get me back for breaking his phone.
Gathering a sports bra and a pair of spandex shorts, I make my way to the bathroom that I have to myself and decide to take a shower. When I pass the steps, I see a fire has come to life in the hearth with no one around to bask in its warmth.
It’s almost an insult to walk away from such an inviting sight that I struggle to move my feet. Curling up in front of the fire in the solitude of the forest would be the perfect way to decompress from a day like this. To get lost in the memories I have as a child coming here and train with weapons my dad would give me lessons on.
Liam opens the front door and raises an eyebrow when he sees me standing at the top of the steps. I open my mouth to speak but shut it immediately, not trusting what would come out.
“There’s whiskey if you want a glass,” he offers, clearly his little trip outside helped calm him down. This man likes control, but he seems as lost with his emotions as I am. Like a broken faucet with the water either too cold or too hot, never the right temperature.
At least since my true identity has been revealed.
Thirty Four
Malia
IT’SBEENAFEWdays sitting here at the cabin and I’m growing restless. Liam and I haven’t spoken since the first night. He leaves the room when I enter, whether it’s to make himself busy outside or hide himself in his bedroom. My sadistic little heart strives to make my presence known and feed off his irritation.
We’ve fucked twice since he’s found out who I am, both times out of anger, but I still haven’t reached that point with him since. It bothers me how much I crave him and want his attention, even if it’s negative.
Liam gave me a piece of before the hate when we were in my bedroom, only to shut down and block me out again. I don’t care how I have to achieve it but I’ll break down those walls again.
That first night in the interrogation room he took care of me when I tore my stitches and shut me out right after. Obliterating his phone probably didn’t help my case, but I’ve never been one to do things subtly.
Now, I sit here on the counter in a black-lace bralette and black spandex booty shorts, sipping on this damn sad man’s drink, waiting for my moment to strike. That first time at PD almost two months ago sits heavy in my mind. The way he used my body for revenge and taking control of me.
My pussy clenches at the memory, betraying everything I’ve been taught when I let him take control. I won’t admit it out loud—and Liam knows by how my body responded to him—I fucking loved it. I can’t let him walk around here and think he dictates my mind and body; I’ll just have to take that control back.
The door to his bedroom opens and my heart rate picks up the closer his steps get. I throw back the remaining liquid in my glass when he steps into the kitchen, his steps come to a halt when he catches me sitting half-naked on the counter.
His eyes start at my bare feet and slowly trail up my body, pausing at my tits before he snaps his gaze up to meet mine.
“Drink?” I ask with a smirk, pleased with the small amount of attention he’s giving me.
Men and their dicks.
Only ever thinking with one head at a time.
Liam doesn’t answer, instead just stalks toward me and I slide the bottle of whiskey behind my back. My smile grows when irritation takes over his handsome features. He hardly misses a beat, stepping between my legs and placing both hands on the counter, trapping me where I sit.
Liam leans his face down to mine; lips so close his breath ghosts mine.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls.
“Extending an olive branch.”
He searches my face for the deceit, and he must not find any, because he snaps his hand out behind me and grabs the bottle, then pushes away from the counter. Throwing back the bottle, he drinks the whiskey straight, never taking his eyes off of me.
I watch him swallow the liquid, his full lips wrapped around the opening, and Adam’s apple bobbing while it slides down his throat. Fuck, I have never been so jealous of an inanimate object in my life.
“Save some for the rest of us,” I clip, not wanting him to drink too much, but glad he took the bait.
Liam hisses from the burn when he breaks the bottle from his lips and slams it next to me, then stalks out of the room and I scoff.