Love/Hate: The Complete Enemies to Lovers Series

by Lilian Monroe

  Stella’s eyes soften and she smiles. “Oh, Ash. It’s good to see you like this again. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to find a man who treats you right. You deserve a guy who makes you feel as special as you are.”

  “Liam makes me feel special.”

  “Well, I think it’s time I meet him.”

  I smile and give my sister a nod. “Okay.”

  “Good. Now, let’s go find me a nice, hunky rebound. I can be a cougar, can’t I? Find a nice, young man to warm my bed.”

  I laugh, frowning. “Please don’t say that. You’re my sister.”

  “And I’m a hot-blooded woman with needs, Ash.”

  I finish my drink and laugh, shaking my head. “Let’s go.”

  By the time we get there, it’s only Red, Benji, and Claire at Red’s house. Red opens the door and welcomes us in.

  “You guys are early!”

  “It’s 9:30,” I say, glancing at Stella.

  Red just stares at me. “Yeah. It’s early.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Maybe Stella was right about the age thing.

  She grins. “Nah, it’s all good. Come in! You guys want a drink?”

  I introduce my sister to Benji and Claire. Claire has a full rainbow on her eyelids, and her hair is curled to perfection. She looks like a wood nymph.

  Stella points to her eyes. “How did you get your eyeliner so sharp?”

  They fall into easy conversation and the doorbell rings. Pretty soon, more and more people are filtering into Red’s old apartment and I’m drinking, laughing, and socializing.

  It feels good to be out. It feels good to be talking to people normally, and not having the weight of my past on my shoulders. Here, with Red and my sister and the rest of them, I can just be myself. I’m not a widow, I’m not a police officer’s wife, I’m nothing except me.

  After a couple hours, I check my phone and see four missed calls from Liam. There are a few text messages as well, so I quickly type out a response.

  Ashley: Is everything okay?

  My phone buzzes right away.

  Liam: Where are you?

  Ashley: At Red’s party. What’s up?

  Liam: We need to talk.

  I frown. This doesn’t sound like him. He doesn’t text very much, but even these texts are shorter and more abrupt than usual. Worry curls in my stomach, and I tap on my phone to send him my location. I slip my phone into my pocket and take a deep breath.

  Red slides beside me, arching her eyebrows. Her curly red mane is wild tonight, almost as big as her torso. “Everything okay?”

  I grin. “You’re very perceptive.”

  “You broadcast your emotions on your face, Goldilocks. You’d be terrible at poker.”

  I laugh. “I invited Liam over, I hope that’s okay.”

  “As long as he doesn’t cause a scene,” she grins. “Or spill anything on my carpet.” Someone calls out to her and she squeezes my arm, leaving me standing on my own.

  Suddenly, my wine tastes warm and disgusting. The music feels too loud and I’m starting to feel dizzy. My mind keeps circling back to Liam, and those text messages.

  I need some air.

  I head for the front door and take a big gulp of fresh air as soon as I’m outside. I sit on the front stoop, putting my wine glass down near my foot and closing my eyes.

  It only takes a few deep breaths to calm me down. I’m panicking. Everything is probably fine—maybe he just had a bad time at the event with his brother. Maybe he just wants to see me.

  I hear his footsteps before anything else, and I look up to see him walking away from a cab about half a block away. The cab stays there, its brake lights shining in the dark street. I stand up, walking down the two steps to the sidewalk.

  “Hey,” I say, smiling. “What’s up?

  He gets closer, and my heart drops. Something is wrong. He’s wearing a full suit, but his tie is crooked and his eyes are dark. His hair looks like he’s been running his fingers through it over and over, and there’s a red spot on his chin where he’s been picking at his face. His frown deepens as he gets closer.

  “We need to talk.”

  I nod. “Okay. What… what’s going on? How was the election thing?”

  “You told me you don’t like Police Chief White.” His tone is accusatory, menacing. “You told me there was no love lost between you two.”

  “I don’t. There isn’t.” I try not to stammer. He takes a step toward me and I take a step back.

  “Stop lying to me, Ashley.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why would White risk his career, his life, everything? Why would he do that for you if he didn’t even like you?”

  “I… what? He didn’t… I told you what happened, Liam. I tried to tell him about Randy but he brushed me away. Where is this coming from? He didn’t risk anything for me!”

  I straighten my spine, planting my hands on my hips. Liam does the same, and then runs his fingers through his hair as he huffs.

  “Ashley…”

  “Liam…” I open my eyes wide, spreading my arms out. “What is going on?”

  Liam takes a deep breath and exhales in frustration. “Ashley, I know what happened. I have a whole file. I know what you did.”

  “A file?”

  My heart starts to hammer against my ribcage. He doesn’t… no one knows! No one except Stella. We left before anyone saw. The only loose end was my old phone that I lost in the ditch when it all happened that night, but nothing ever came of it. The only time the police came knocking on my door was to offer their condolences, not to accuse me of murder.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Liam’s eyes darken some more and he shakes his head. “You killed your husband. You shot him with his own service weapon, and then you and Police Chief White covered it up.”

  “White had nothing to do with it! He had no idea it was me—”

  “So you admit you murdered your husband.”

  “It was self-defense, Liam.” My whole body starts to shake. “He was coming at me with a golf club. I had to, I… I…”

  The look Liam gives me is so full of betrayal, so full of outrage that I don’t know how to process it. I open my mouth, shaking my head. “It wasn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

  “Don’t say another word,” Stella says behind me. She puts her arm over my shoulders and pulls me behind her, standing tall between me and Liam. “It’s time for you to go.”

  Liam is trembling. He looks between me and my sister and shakes his head. “You told me you didn’t like White. You lied to me.”

  “I didn’t! I never lied!”

  “Not another word, Ash!” Stella shouts. Her eyes are trained on Liam and she nods down the street. “Go. Your cab is waiting. Go!”

  Liam gives me one last disgusted look, and then spins on his heels and marches back to the waiting taxi. Stella turns around and wraps her arms around me.

  “Don’t worry about him, shh. Come on. It’s okay.” I stand limp as she wraps her arms around me. All I can do is watch Liam over her shoulder as he gets in the cab and drives away. He doesn’t pause or look back.

  Stella pats my head and coos in my ear, but I don’t hear any of it.

  I just hear the taxi’s engine get quieter and quieter as the man who healed my heart breaks it again, more completely than before.

  28

  Liam

  “It’s done.”

  “It’s over between you two?”

  “I told you, it’s done, Adrian. What more do you want?”

  He sighs. “Fine. I’ll see you at the polls tomorrow. We need to present a united front as a family.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I hang up the phone and lean my head against the cab’s headrest. I can’t listen to him any longer. I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t do anything except imagine Ashley’s eyes when I confronted her.

  The hurt.

  It’s too much to think about. I did that to her. I made her f
eel that way. I broke her heart as my own shattered in my chest.

  A tear slides down my cheek and I brush it away angrily.

  So what? She’s a murderer. She’s got the police in her pocket, and she’s going to get away with murdering her husband.

  … her abusive, violent husband. The one who was coming at her with a golf club.

  Or so she says. Of course she would say that. Self-defense! How predictable.

  I’ve seen the scars. I know her.

  My mind keeps circling back and forth, bouncing between trusting her, loving her, and hating her. My thoughts run into each other until the tears are streaming down my face and I can’t even see straight. The cab comes to a stop and the driver presses a button on the meter.

  “That’s $53.28, sir”

  “Here’s sixty,” I say, climbing out of the cab before he can say anything else. I can’t face anyone, or anything. I stumble into my house and open the fridge, groaning when I see no beer. In one of my cabinets, at the very back, is an old bottle of gin and some coconut liqueur. I sigh, choosing the gin.

  I pour a tall glass for myself. I don’t even have any ice. I slump onto the couch. Turning the TV on, I stare at the noisy screen for a few minutes and then turn it off again.

  I text Aaron, but he doesn’t answer.

  I wander through my house, trying not to think of her.

  It’s futile, though, because she’s all I can think about. In my bed, in my shower, in the kitchen. Right there, in the corner, where she likes to lean when I’m cooking. I can hear the echo of her laughs in my house, and it breaks my heart.

  She’s hurting, and it’s all my fault.

  What do I care if she killed her husband? He was a piece of shit! He beat her, and burned her, and made her feel like she wasn’t worthy of love. Why would it bother me?

  Because she didn’t tell me?

  I met her six weeks ago! It’s not exactly the kind of thing you tell people.

  I close my eyes as I sink down into my couch, imagining her face when I confronted her. I search through my memory for any scrap of truth. The expression on her face when I mentioned the police chief—that’s the key.

  It wasn’t guilt, or shame, or even pride.

  It was confusion.

  He had nothing to do with it, she said. I frown, sipping my gin and trying to figure out this mess. I can’t deny the contents of the folder. Based on the evidence that the private investigator collected, there’s no denying it.

  She killed her husband, and White helped to cover it up. She’s been lying to me this whole time about her relationship with him, which means maybe my brother was right.

  Unless she didn’t know that White covered it up.

  Unless she was telling the truth.

  He had nothing to do with it.

  I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling as if the truth will etch itself on the plaster. I drain my glass and get up to fill it again. I’m already unsteady on my feet, and I know that by the time I finish this glass I’ll be well and truly drunk.

  Who gives a fuck?

  Why do I care if I get drunk?

  I’ve just lost the one woman I care about. I lost my career, and my whole family thinks I’m a fuck-up. Why shouldn’t I live up to their expectations?

  I hurt Ashley, and I needed to do it. Even if I stayed with her, my brother would ruin her life somehow. Staying away from her is the best thing I could do for her. And without Ash, what do I have left? A defective, patched-up heart and a foundation that I don’t care about. Without her, there’s nothing.

  The gin glugs out of the bottle into the glass and I sigh, knocking it back.

  Even if Ashley didn’t know about White’s involvement, I can’t be with her. My family would never allow it. I’d be cut off, thrown out, disowned and disinherited. Why would she want to be with me then? She liked the fancy limo rides and the nice dinners. She liked the new dress and the diamonds.

  She likes me when I have money.

  Even if she did forgive me for being a complete fucking ass to her tonight, why would she want to be with a deadbeat like me? Without my family’s money, I have nothing.

  And with nothing, I can’t have her.

  I laugh to myself as I fill my glass again. It’s almost perfect. It must be karma. I must have done something so awful in a past life, or maybe it’s just payback for how I’ve treated women all my life.

  Now, the one woman that I really, truly want is out of my reach. I can’t have her unless I give everything up, and then I’m not worth being with. Even then, I’m probably putting her in harm’s way by being close to her.

  I drain my glass and waver on my feet. A bit of gin spills onto the counter when I try to fill my glass again, and I just blink slowly until my glass is full.

  Fuck it.

  I’ve lost everything anyways.

  “Jesus Christ,” Adrian says, throwing the curtains open in my living room. I groan, shielding my eyes from the blinding light. My mouth tastes awful.

  I try to turn around and realize I’m lying on something hard—really hard. It’s rough, too, and it hurts my face when I move. I blink again, opening my eyes, and I realize I’m face down on the floor. I look up as my brother walks toward me, his shiny black shoes clicking on the hardwood floors until he gets to the rug where I decided to fall asleep last night.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  I groan.

  “You need to get up and get in the shower. We have to be at the polls for a photo op. Mother and Father are waiting outside.”

  I groan again, rolling onto my back. Adrian nudges me in the shoulder with his offensively shiny shoe. “What time is it?”

  “Ten in the morning. You weren’t answering your phone so we came here. Thank fuck I told them to wait in the car, I think Mother would have fainted if she saw you passed out on the floor like that.”

  “Whatever.” I take a deep breath and push myself up to sit. My head spins. The bottle of gin is on the floor next to me, with a big stain around it. Looks like I ruined my own carpet and wasted a bunch of good gin.

  Like a true fuck-up. At least I’m living up to expectations.

  Adrian nudges me with his shoe again. “Fuck off,” I snap. “I’m not a fucking dog.”

  “You could have fooled me.” He sniffs and scrunches his nose.

  He looks around the messy room with disgust, and I groan. My legs shake as I stand on them for the first time, and I stumble toward the bathroom. At least under the shower stream, my brother isn’t watching me and judging. I emerge from the shower feeling slightly more human than when I got in, and I wrap a towel around myself.

  Adrian has laid out a suit on my bed for me to put on, and I do it mechanically. When I walk back to the living room, his assistant is there with what looks like a big toolbox.

  “Make him look presentable,” Adrian says, waving his hand at me. Cheryl opens the toolbox to reveal a bunch of makeup. She pulls a chair out and points to it, and I sit down.

  I do as I’m told.

  As usual.

  Like a dog.

  She fixes me up, and then I’m led back to the car. Even with sunglasses and makeup on, I know my parents can see the state I’m in. We head toward the polling station in silence.

  Just one big, happy fucking family.

  29

  Ashley

  “You need to expunge him from your life.” Stella puts her hands on her hips and looks around my house. Her gaze lands on his sweatshirt, still draped over the back of my couch.

  “Expunge him?”

  “Yes. Out. Get rid. No more reminders of that piece of shit.” She goes to the kitchen and comes back with a big black garbage bag. I watch her grab his sweatshirt and stuff it in the bag. She looks at me. “Anyone who marches up to you and makes you feel like that doesn’t deserve a minute of your time. Where’s the rest of his stuff?”

  “Underwear in the second drawer.”

  My sister nods, marching to the b
edroom. She’s on a mission.

  Me, on the other hand, I just feel empty. Numb.

  Foolish.

  Who am I to think that I deserve to find a handsome, successful, big-hearted man? How arrogant of me to think that Liam Maguire would actually care about me.

  I feel like I’m sinking to the bottom of the ocean, with miles and miles of water crushing the life out of me. Slowly, painfully, the air is being squeezed out of my lungs as I watch my life turn to dust around me.

  “That bastard didn’t want to actually date you,” Stella says as she pokes her head back into the living room. “He just wanted to fuck his sexy new employee, and then the minute things get a little complicated, he drops you without a thought. Fuck him.”

  She disappears back into the bedroom and I listen as she crashes around, pulling drawers open and rustling the garbage bag as she expunges Liam from my life.

  When she reappears, her hair is disheveled and the bag is half-full. She drops it near the front door and slumps down on the couch beside me. She sighs.

  “Men are horrible.”

  I don’t answer. I don’t feel like Liam is horrible. In a way, he’s right.

  “I killed Randy,” I whisper. “I did it.” After the night it happened, I’ve never said it out loud.

  “You defended yourself.” Stella turns toward me. “You did what you had to do. He was going to kill you, Ash. I saw it in his eyes.”

  My lower lip trembles. Even after a year of therapy, I haven’t faced that particular demon. I’ve built myself up again, found myself and gained some confidence, but I’ve never faced the fact that I killed my husband. Self-defense or not, it’s true.

  Stella puts her hand on my knee. “Ash, look at me.”

  I close my eyes for a second before forcing myself to meet my sister’s gaze. “How did he know?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past.”

  “But it does matter, Stella. Liam marched up to me and told me he knew that I fired that gun on Randy. He said he had evidence. What if… what if…” I can’t even finish the sentence.

  What if they come after me?