Honored (City Series Book 4)(17)

I gaped at him, shocked. I felt a chill run through my body.

"But you know Colm isn't right."

"Stand up and leave now. Walk out of here and be happy I didn't kill you."

Without another word, I stood, and I felt like everything was crumbling around me. I knew it was a long shot, getting O'Brian on my side, but it would have meant everything. Now, my plan was gutted, and I was going to have to work with almost no resources. The world felt like it was crashing down around me.

As I turned to go, O'Brian spoke up. "He's offering your whole territory to whoever finds you and finishes you off, you know. Don't trust anybody."

I looked back at him and nodded.

"Good luck, kid."

I opened the door to his office, strode out through the main bar, ignored looks from Davin and the two goons, and went out into the night. The sun dipped down below the horizon, bringing on the soft darkness of twilight. As I climbed into my car and started the engine, I promised myself that I would keep Ellie alive no matter what.

I didn't care what the cost would be. I had to protect her. I had to make her situation worth the blood and the destruction.

And my plan wasn't completely ruined. I still had my ace tucked firmly up my sleeve. There was still a chance.

There had to be.





Chapter Fourteen: Ellie


Liam promised he'd call Chelsea, and then he disappeared. It was late, probably around six or seven, but he said he had some business. That man could be so frustrating sometimes, treating me like a child and not telling me what was going on.

I stretched out on the couch, staring blankly at the television playing some reality TV show about young girls raising kids. I believed what he told me, or at least I believed most of it. I didn't think he was lying to me, but I sensed that he was leaving some stuff out. It was the omissions that I was most interested in. I trusted that he was genuinely trying to protect me, but I was terrified that I couldn't help myself if he wasn't going to tell me everything I needed to know.   





 

My whole body felt heavy, and I heard my stomach growl. I hadn't eaten since Liam's eggs earlier in the morning. We had talked for most of the day, and I had asked him pretty much every question I could imagine. My biggest issue was why we weren't going to the police. He kept saying that Colm had his fingers in everything, and that even going to the cops wouldn't keep us alive. I had a hard time believing him; if that were true, why did they care if I called the cops in the first place? It was more complicated than that, he had said, and I sighed.

It just made no sense. I couldn't help but ask, over and over in my mind, why me? Why did I have to see what I saw? And why were they dumping dead bodies in a public place?

But Liam didn't have the answers to those questions. He could only frown and shrug his shoulders, as if that were answer enough. Maybe he was used to violent men trying to murder people, but that wasn't something I could easily adjust to. I may have had my own darkness in my past, but it didn't nearly touch what Liam lived with on a daily basis.

I had to admit that he impressed me. Despite everything, he was still willing to risk his life to save mine. He could have easily killed me, or at least let me be killed, and moved on with his life. But he tore everything up, put himself in the most danger possible, just to keep me alive. I hated him and blamed him, but I knew that none of it was really his fault. I just didn't know what else to do. I felt trapped, caught in an impossible situation, and completely powerless. He was the only one who could fix our situation, and I was stuck lying on an old, uncomfortable couch watching shows I hated all day long.

When we spoke, there was a glimmer of something deeper down inside of him that I didn't think he normally showed. It was something like honesty, or sincerity, and that was what kept drawing me to him, above everything else. It definitely helped that he was gorgeous and ripped and dangerous, but that was only a small part of him.

It felt like hours before I heard someone messing with the front door.

I had a moment of deep panic, and I jumped up off the couch, skin turning white with fear. I looked around like a crazy person, searching for some kind of weapon. What if it wasn't Liam? He hadn't told me what to do in case someone else showed up. I grabbed the lamp from the end table, ripping the cord from the wall, as the bolt unlocked and the door swung open. I held the lamp above my head, ready to smash it on whoever walked through.

"Whoa there," Liam said, holding up two bags of groceries like a shield.

"Fuck, Liam."

My heart was pounding.

"It's okay. It's me."

I stared at him and suddenly felt like an idiot. I lowered the lamp, turning red with embarrassment. He peeked out from behind the bags and grinned at me, this huge cocky grin.

"Calm down, warrior princess."

"You didn't tell me what to do if someone else showed up," I said lamely.

He nodded, expression turning serious. "Beating them with a lamp is probably a good start." He paused and grinned. "I'll be more careful next time. I'll knock three times before coming in."

I nodded. He took a few steps into the room, moving close to me and frowning. I had the stupid urge to reach out and touch his stubbled face, to feel his skin and to kiss along his chin. Instead, I looked away, ashamed of my overreaction and of the heat that built in my core.

"You can put the lamp back. It's really okay. You're safe here."

"Sorry," I mumbled, putting it on the end table.

Liam shut the door and moved into the kitchen with his two big grocery bags as I plugged the lamp back into the socket. I walked over to the front door, slid the bolt back into place, and followed him into the kitchen. He was busy unpacking the bags, putting fresh vegetables and other food into the refrigerator and the pantry.

"This should be enough for a few days," he said.

"Thanks."

I sat down at the kitchen table, feeling déjà vu, and folded my legs underneath my body. I was on edge, for obvious reasons, and I wished I could fold myself into my own body and hide away from the world. When he was done putting away the groceries, he looked at me and smiled.

"So, what do you want for dinner? I make a mean mushroom risotto."

"I'm not hungry," I lied.

I don't know why I felt so defiant, why I wanted to refuse his offer. For some reason, I felt like if I let him keep cooking for me, I'd give him some sort of control or power over me that I wasn't ready to give up.

As if he didn't already have everything.

He looked concerned. "Come on, you're definitely hungry. I'm starving."   





 

"Where were you?" I asked abruptly.

"It's not important," he said as he started to bustle around the kitchen, taking out ingredients and setting up pans.

"It is important, Liam. You need to tell me things."

"Look, you're safe here, and I'm going to fix this. You don't need to worry about all the shit I'm doing out there."

I wanted to scream at him, smack him and shake him. He had no clue what it was like for me, practically a prisoner. Every time he refused to give me more information it was like he made the cage just a bit smaller. I felt like the walls were beginning to press in around me, and he was the only one with any power to spread them apart.

"If you don't tell me, I'm getting the fuck out of here."

He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. I tried my best to show him that I was serious.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes. Please."

He sighed. "Fine. I was out at another boss's place."

"What boss?"

"His name is O'Brian, old friend of my father. But he can't help us."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"Now, I'm going to make some risotto, and you're going to eat it."

"I said I'm not hungry."

"I know you did, but you won't be able to resist."

He went back to cutting and preparing, and I lapsed into silence. I watched him work for a few minutes, chopping and mixing ingredients, and I marveled all over again at how he moved. I had a theory that you could tell a lot about a person by how they navigated a kitchen, whether it was quick and easy, or messy and loud, or clumsy and thoughtless. He was both graceful and precise, with everything laid out exactly in the order he needed it, all within arm's reach. There was no excess mess or unused pots or pans.

"What am I going to do here?" I asked softly, breaking his concentration.

He looked over at me while moving the risotto, adding water a bit at a time.

"What do you mean?"

I gestured around me. "This place, what am I supposed to do here? I have no phone, no Internet, no books. Just that crappy TV."

He frowned. "I hadn't thought about it."

"I know you didn't. But if you want me to stay here, you can't just leave me alone to stare at the TV all day long."

"You're right. Tomorrow, we'll figure that all out."

I nodded, and I felt a little better. At least he was willing to listen to me. He went back to cooking and I went back to watching him intently, the way he moved with practiced and precise steps. The smells from the cooking food began to overwhelm my stubbornness, and by the time he had everything plated and out in front of me, I knew that I wasn't going to hold out much longer. My stomach growled and it looked incredible.

"Go ahead, dig in. Want some wine?"

I nodded. "Just one glass though."