Honored_ An Alpha Mob Romance(41)

I shook my head; that wasn’t fair.

I was having a hard time dealing with the reality of Liam’s past. He was a criminal, and he wasn’t shy about it. And yet, he said that he had some “code of honor,” or whatever, like he was some knight in shining armor. He didn’t seem like a criminal; he wasn’t a scumbag or seedy or weird. He honored the past and his family. But what does that really mean? He seemed to really care about the people around him, and he took care of them. Well, he took care of himself, too. That certainly showed, I thought to myself, remembering the feeling of his body pressed up against mine.

Still, he was a member of the Mob, which meant he must have done some pretty bad stuff. I tried not to judge people by their past, by the mistakes they made, since I was the first to admit that I’d made plenty of mistakes myself. But I’d never met anyone involved in the underworld so blatantly. Liam was a completely new kind of person, something I knew probably existed but had never seen any real evidence of. He was like someone from a dream, or from a movie. That was part of the draw, though; I wanted to excavate him, to understand what made him do the things he did. I wanted to know why he risked his life to save mine, someone who meant almost nothing to him.

And I was angry. Above all, I was so angry.

I got up off the couch and began to pace around the house between the kitchen and the living room like a caged lion. I wanted to scream and yell and punch the wall. I wanted to make Liam’s life as hard as possible, for no reason other than I blamed him for my position. And the worst part of it was, I knew he was the only person trying to keep me alive. He was the only person I could trust.

Why did I have to stumble on those two guys? It could have been anyone else in the entire city. Then again, if it were someone else, would Liam have tried to save her? I was so frustrated and confused, and I felt like I didn’t deserve all the hard work and risk and pain and suffering. Liam wanted to save my life, but I really couldn’t understand any of it.

I glanced at the clock on the stove. He should have been home twenty minutes ago. I put it out of my mind, refusing to worry.

At least I wasn’t paralyzed with fear anymore. Anger was beginning to replace the fear, a deep burning anger at my situation and at Liam. I knew it was misplaced anger, and really I should have been mad at Colm Brennan or whoever else was trying to murder me, but I couldn’t help it. Liam was an easy target. Despite how badly I wanted to kiss him again, and how easy and free his confidence made me feel. He was the only person I could be angry at because he was the only person I was allowed to see.

As I walked back into the living room, I wondered briefly how Petey was doing. Chelsea wasn’t exactly the most responsible person in the world, but Petey was a good dog. I hoped he was okay.

I flopped back down on the couch with a loud sigh and flicked through the television channels again, intent on getting lost in whatever was on. I needed some escape, at least an escape from my own twisting mind. I couldn’t keep torturing myself, wondering about scenarios that didn’t exist.

Time slipped by that way without me noticing. One second I turned on some random reality show with crazy southern idiots getting way too wasted and the next it was night outside, dark and quiet, and I didn’t even recognize what was playing on TV.

I look around the room, feeling groggy. Did I fall asleep? I must have.

“Liam?” I called out loudly.

There was no response. The creepy, empty safe house just echoed my words back to me. I briefly wondered if the place was haunted, which made me laugh softly to myself. I must have been pretty messed up, wondering if the house that was keeping me alive was also haunted.

Ghosts and gangsters. That was my life.

I got up from the couch, worry beginning to take hold of my chest. He was supposed to be back already. I walked into the kitchen and looked at the time: two hours had passed and he was still missing. I felt something inside me clench up. What if he never came back? I had nothing and no way to survive on my own. I couldn’t go back to my apartment or the Mob would kill me. I shook my head, on the verge of panic.

I couldn’t break down, not yet. He might just be running late.

I walked back out into the living room, my heart beating hard, and walked up the stairs. I checked the bedrooms one by one, wondering if he maybe fell asleep somewhere, but they were all empty. I was alone, completely and utterly alone, and the only person in the entire world that knew what I was going through and was trying to keep me from a bullet to the face was missing. Maybe he was dead for all I knew.

I hated it. I hated the waiting and the fear, and above all I hated being powerless.