Before I got too far, though, I heard Liam move up behind me and grab me by the hips, pulling my body against his. I struggled, but he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly. His body was hard and strong, all cut muscle and power.
"If you go there, you're dead," he grunted.
"I can't leave Petey alone. He'll starve," I said, struggling.
He cursed softly but kept holding me. I stomped on his foot and he grunted in pain. He got a better handle on me and lifted me up off the ground easily, throwing me over his shoulder. I kicked and punched but it was like hitting brick. He carried me over to the couch and threw me down onto the cushions, following immediately to hold me there. As I struggled, I was amazed at how strong he was and how restrained he seemed. He could have easily hurt me if he had wanted to, and I wouldn't have blamed him, but he was only being as forceful as he needed to be to keep me there.
"I'll have someone take care of him," he said, gritting his teeth.
"No. He has to come here."
I slipped a hand free and pushed my palm against his face.
"Fuck, Ellie," he grunted, slapping my arm away. I thrashed and screamed.
"Get the fuck off me, you psycho," I said.
I thrashed harder, kicking my legs and yelling, but he didn't react. His face remained passive and serious, and he continued to hold me down. Eventually, I had to calm down, and I slowly stopped fighting him, breathing deep. I felt exhausted, beaten down and defeated. First, that man tried to murder me, and now Liam wouldn't even let me try to save my own dog. I was powerless, an absolute failure. More than that, I was a little unhinged, and I knew it. Liam didn't do anything wrong, but there was something boiling up inside of me from the stress and the fear. I actually felt a little bit better after having struggled and burned off some energy.
"Listen to me," he said softly.
"Go fuck yourself." I felt my defiance begin to ebb, though.
"Gladly. But first, understand that the only thing keeping you alive right now is me. You want to see Petey again? You do what I say."
I clenched my jaw and didn't respond.
"Are you going to hit me again if I let you go?"
I shook my head.
"Fine." He gingerly released me, and I sat up, adjusting myself.
He stood and walked across the room. "Do you know anyone in the area?"
I thought about it for a second. "My friend, Chelsea."
"Will she take the dog?"
I nodded. I actually had no clue if she would or not, but she was probably my best bet for having someone watch over Petey.
"Fine, I'll talk to her."
I looked away from him, rage seething through my body. I couldn't believe he would pin me down and let me yell and scream at him, hit him and grab at his face, and do nothing. I was pissed and defiant and confused and terrified, but also part of me was amazed at how hard he was trying to keep me safe.
"You can't hold me here forever."
"You're right. I have a plan to fix this thing, but we need to lay low until I can figure it all out."
I shook my head. "But I have work, I have responsibilities. I can't just disappear."
"You'll take vacation time. Your friends and family will deal with you being gone. You'll lie if you have to."
I looked at him, and I could feel the tears welling up.
"They'll fire me. My friends will worry."
"You can't work if you're dead. They'll feel worse at your funeral."
That gave me pause. "This is insane, Liam," I said softly, tears welling up.
He nodded, looking sad. "I know. I'm really sorry this happened to you."
I looked away, not wanting to get sucked into his perfect face and serious eyes. I fought back the tears, getting myself under control. Crying wouldn't help anything, and I didn't want to show weakness in front of him. I had trouble hating him, even though part of me thought it was his fault that I was trapped in his safe house. I wanted to scream and claw out his eyes, but I knew that wouldn't help anything. I was torn up inside.
And I was trapped. I was trapped in a nightmare with a man I barely knew. There were people out in the world that wanted to see me dead, and they were willing to murder me in my own apartment. And there I was, pissed at the only person in the whole world who was willing to give up everything to save me.
"Those eggs were amazing," I said after a brief silence.
He grinned at me. "I know."
Chapter Thirteen: Liam
We talked for another few hours, and eventually she agreed not to leave the house, at least for another day. She was stubborn and difficult and wild, but I could see the fear in her eyes. I could practically smell it, rolling from her body in waves.
If she weren't afraid, I would have been even more worried.
Fuck, there was something about her that kept sticking in my brain. At first, I thought it was just because she was so sexy and innocent looking, with perfect lips and hips I wanted to grab and hold on to. Staring at her outside of Richie's school, I thought I'd never met anyone so perfect and gorgeous. I wanted to rip off her blouse and explore every inch of her smooth skin, to burrow my face between her legs and breathe her smell in deep. But there was so much more to her than I could have realized at first. Any other civilian would have broken down into a ball of tears, but not Ellie. She was way stronger than I could have imagined, and although she was still trying to make stupid choices, she was so incredibly beautiful in her defiance. Despite the fear, she was desperately trying to hold on to herself.
And she was going to need that strength. I had no idea what was going to happen in the coming days or weeks, but I knew it was going to be difficult.
Worse, it may be bloody.
I felt the wind move through my hair as I navigated south, heading out of my territory. I hated leaving Ellie alone, but it was important that I got out and started making contact with a few people, started pushing my plan forward. The longer I waited, the longer Colm had to consolidate his power. Worse, he could even find my safe house, though I really doubted it. My father had taught me well, and I didn't take any shortcuts in setting the thing up.
I was exhausted, and the sun was low in the sky, but I pushed myself forward. I felt responsible, somehow, for what was happening to Ellie. If only I had backed someone other than Colm early on, or if I had been able to talk him out of wanting to kill her, or if I had taken her into hiding the night before, then maybe I could have avoided everything. Or at least the worst of it. At least I could have avoided Ellie getting a gun shoved in her face.
At least her friend seemed nice enough. Chelsea had agreed to take on Petey, though I wasn't sure she bought my story about taking Ellie on a spontaneous vacation. I didn't blame her; it was pure and unfiltered bullshit, and she must have known it, but she reluctantly agreed. I didn't let Ellie talk to her, mainly because I didn't trust cellphones anywhere near the safe house, even if it was a burner paid for in cash. But still, at least that problem seemed to be solved for the time being.
I made a left, pulling onto Passyunk Ave, and continued south. I was crossing into the territory that pushed up against my own southern borders. It was one of the largest turfs in the entire city, nearly twice the size of my own, and that was saying a lot. The man who controlled it, Boss O'Brian, was an old friend of my father's and one of the biggest of Colm's rivals. I didn't know what he had heard about Ellie, but if I was going to make anything happen, I needed to try to get him on my side.
I parked my car, killed the engine, and took a deep breath. It was very possible that I was walking into a trap. It was very possible that Colm had gotten to O'Brian already, maybe offered him a territory bump or some cash in return for killing me. Just because the man was a friend of my father's didn't mean he was going to automatically help and protect me. I glanced at the gun sitting on the seat next to me and sighed. I opened the glove box and shoved it in there, making sure the safety was on. I couldn't risk going in there armed.
The evening was cool as I stepped out of my car and began walking toward O'Brian's pub. Most of the bosses ran at least a few businesses on their territory. It was an easy way to launder money and to maintain a front. When the drug cash came in, you just slipped it into the revenue stream of your businesses and fudged your books a bit to make it all look legit. The Mob had been doing it for many, many years, and our system had been more or less perfected.
More than that, though, we needed to appear like legitimate businessmen, even if everyone in the city knew that was bullshit. Life with the Right People was all about appearance. You had to maintain a tough front, could never look weak, or else people would take advantage of you. Success was all about overtaking and pushing out the weak, and although it was brutal and difficult, it was the way of life many of us had chosen.
Besides all that, it was nice to have a home base. Somewhere you could call your own. My place happened to be a working business in its own right, but still. O'Brian's was one of the oldest spots in the whole city, passed down from his father's father. It was practically a historic site.
I pushed open the old wood door and took in the dim room. Immediately, heads snapped in my direction, and I noticed a man or two looked surprised. They must have recognized me, though I couldn't place them. The bartender, Davin, gave me one glance and immediately walked into the back room, not bothering to hide his movements.