His Property(9)

“I’ll find him,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

“For what?” I demanded. “He’s not going to give you the money. What’s the point?”

He ignored me, scrolling through his phone until he found the number for whatever minion he was looking for to call and summon to help him.

“Liam!” I said. “Stop! This is ridiculous. You’re just mad that you didn’t win.”

He looked at me, his eyes stone cold. “Mad because I didn’t win?” he repeated, and his voice was even more frigid than the look on his face.

“Yes. You’re mad because someone got over on you. But guess what? It’s a part of life.” I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. “You can’t control everything. You shouldn’t even want to! You were so determined to show me that my father was an asshole, and okay, great, now you’ve proven what we all already knew. Why do you want to go after him?”

“You need to watch your smart mouth.” His voice, which just a few moments ago, had been filled with emotion and urgency as he talked about hunting down my father, was now cold, devoid of any emotion.

“I’m not being smart,” I said. It was true. This wasn’t like before, when I was in that hotel room wiping off my make up, or when I was on the casino floor, acting immature and reckless as I’d shoved that card into the slot machine. Now I really wanted to know. “Why do you want to go after him? What is it going to prove? He’s an asshole, I get it, thanks for clueing me into something I’ve known my whole life.” My words were biting, but my tone was calm.

But Liam wasn’t calm.

He was on the outside, but there was a storm brewing in his dark eyes, one I knew all too well.

“You will not talk back to me.” He reached up and rubbed his jaw, as if he were contemplating his options.

“It’s not talking back to have an opinion,” I said, and I could feel my fists clenching by my sides, could feel myself losing the grip I’d had on my carefully constructed calmness. I’d said I never wanted to see him again, but now all I wanted was to get through to him. “Just because it’s different than yours doesn’t mean I’m talking back.”

“I know what’s best for you, Emery.”

He took a step toward me, and I hated when he was like this, hated when he acted like he knew everything, that I was just some naïve girl who he had to protect. I shook my head. “No,” I said. “No, you don’t. Because what’s best for me isn’t this.”

“That’s enough.”

“No, it’s true,” I said. “It’s true and you know it.” Emotion swelled in my chest, and my fists clenched even tighter by my sides, like the harder I gripped them, the more likely it was that he would listen to me. “I keep thinking that if I just try to understand you, if I just…” My voice choked up as I spoke, and I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to keep talking. But I summoned my strength. I needed to say this, needed to get it out. “I keep thinking that if I just keep doing what you want, if I just keep playing by your ridiculous rules then maybe this will be real.” There. I’d said it out loud. “But I’m embarrassed by the way I’m acting. I’m embarrassed by the fact that I can’t see straight, that I know that you kidnapped me, that you told me straight out I can’t save you, and yet I still want to.” It was true. I still wanted to save him. My heart wanted to save him, wanted to rush to him, to have him take me in his arms. Even as I was saying the words, deep down that was what I wanted.

Liam closed his eyes, and when he opened them, there was a brief moment where I thought he was going to tell me that he could be saved, that the wounds inside of him could be healed, and that I would be the one to do it.

But instead, his face clouded and he took a step toward me.

His hands encircled my wrists as he spun me around and pushed me roughly up against the glass. “Do you feel better now?” he growled. “Better now that you’ve made your opinions known?” He spit the words at me, as if the fact that I’d tried to make him see that I had opinions was silly, something a child would do.

“It’s not about feeling better,” I said. “It’s about –”

He placed his hand over my mouth, cutting me off. His other hand skated up my thigh, pushing up under the skirt of my dress until it met my ass. He squeezed hard and I gave a surprised whimper that was almost unable to be heard through the hand he had over my mouth.

He continued his assault, moving to my pussy. He still had my panties, and his fingers skated over my bare slit, feeling the wetness there. He was right. My body would always give me away.