“Liam,” Mona purrs. “It’s been a while.”
Because of-fucking-course this bitch is here tonight and sees me alone.
I shrug her off, downing my drink in one swallow and slamming my glass back down. The bartender glares at me, but I don’t rise to the bait.
“Not long enough,” I grumble. “How unfortunate for me.”
A lot has changed since the last time I saw Mona Bridges. For instance, I’ve discovered a new-found talent for torture and she looks like the perfect volunteer. If I felt like wasting the energy on her, that is. And I fucking don’t.
“We’ve all been so worried about you,” she says, leaning on the bar so she’s slightly in my line of sight. “No one knows where you’ve been.”
“It’s no one’s business but my own, Mona,” I clip.
She twirls her long, dark hair around her finger, resting her hip against my thigh. Her big, brown eyes scrape the crowd and I know exactly who she’s looking for. Last time she couldn’t take a hint, Malia put her in her place… and gave her some bonus injuries.
“I’m guessing things didn’t work out between you and that little girlfriend of yours,” she says.
Ahh, yep, there it is.
“I never thought you’d be that pressed over a woman,” Mona adds.
My jaw clenches and I’m on my feet. She gasps when I cage her against the bar, leaning into her ear.
“I can fucking promise you, Mona,” I growl. “Say one word against Malia and I will put a bullet between your eyes without hesitation.”
I lean back, watching as she swallows thickly and her mouth snaps shut.
“What happened to you?” she rasps.
I smile without mirth.
“Nothing your tiny brain could ever begin to comprehend.”
Mona blinks at me a few times then tilts her head.
“Is this what she’s turned you into?”
Her hands reach out and slide down my chest.
“I can make you forget all about her.”
Anger burns its way through my body, and I reach behind me to pull my weapon. My hand brushes against the handcuffs I have in my back pocket and a plan forms. Shooting Mona in the middle of a crowded public bar wouldn’t be my finest moment.
Leaning back into her I let my breath ghost along her skin, and she arches into me. Her hands travel lower until they reach my belt. I snatch her hands and shove them behind her, pressing into her so they’re locked between her back and the bar top.
“If I so much as see you again, I will have you in a basement tortured until you’re begging for death,” I whisper, binding her wrists in the handcuffs and making sure they’re tight enough she isn’t going to get out of them anytime soon.
I step back, smiling and she guffaws when she realizes she’s been restrained.
“Good luck getting out of that one, love,” I taunt, tilting my head.
“Did you just fucking handcuff me?” she asks in disbelief.
I shrug.
“I’m Malia’s and Malia’s only,” I say, letting my smile morph into a sneer. “I’m not the same man I used to be. You’d do well to remember that.”
“What is wrong with you?” Mona squeaks, pulling her arms, like that’s going to help.