by Hannah Ford
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t order this,” I said.
“Liam ordered for everyone,” Vienna said. “Shall we call the men up?”
“In a minute,” Liam’s mother said. “I want Malcolm to have a chance to blow off some steam.” She picked up her fork and cut into her scallop.
“When will he meet with the investors?” Vienna asked.
“Next week.”
“Why doesn’t Liam just give him the money?” Vienna asked. She forked up the tiniest bit of scallop and placed it carefully into her mouth.
I did the same. It was delicious, flawlessly cooked and flavorful, the perfect grill marks that crisscrossed the seafood betraying how carefully it had been cooked. The mango citrus sauce was sweet with just a hint of sour. I couldn’t completely enjoy it, though, because of the anticipatory feeling that had settled in my stomach as I waited for Liam to text me back, and I hated him for that.
“Ask Liam for the money?” Annabelle asked, frowning. “That wouldn’t be fair. I mean, Liam’s already done so much for us.”
“It’s not like he doesn’t have the money,” Vienna said. “I can talk to him if you want.”
I bristled at her comment about talking to Liam.
“Oh, no,” Annabelle said. “That wouldn’t be right. But maybe…”
“What?” Vienna asked. She’d set her fork down and was sliding her wine glass back and forth between her fingers.
“Well, Emery, maybe you could ask him? It’s obvious that he really values your opinion.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not… I mean, I don’t know anything about the restaurant business.”
Vienna smirked.
Behind her, the man at the table next to us, the one whose eye I’d caught earlier, was staring at me. He’d finished his appetizer, and now he was drinking from a tumbler of whiskey.
I looked away, but when I glanced back at him, his eyes were still on me, boring into me, and I instantly felt uncomfortable.
“That’s okay,” Annabelle said, jolting my attention back to the table. “You can just ask Liam if he’d be interested in his father’s business opportunity. Just tell him that it’s a good investment. You know, for his portfolio.”
“Maybe,” I said, trying to sound glib. Talking to Liam about his investments wasn’t something that sounded like a good idea. Especially not an investment that involved one of his father’s restaurant.
The man at the table next to us rose from his seat, dropped some cash on the table and then walked out of the dining room, passing by me without a second glance.
I let out a sigh of relief as my phone vibrated in my hand.
Liam.
Meet me in the hallway by the restrooms. Now.
I swallowed.
I’m having dinner! Your mother is telling me that I should ask you to invest in your father’s new venture in Portland. How would you like me to handle this?
The reply was one word, the intensity practically dripping off the screen.
NOW.
I stood up, placing my napkin on the table. “I’m sorry, I have to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll go with – ” Annabelle started to say, but I rushed out of there before she could get the words out.
When I got to the hallway, I lingered outside of the restrooms, leaning against the wall, waiting for Liam.
My entire body thrummed with anticipation.
I wanted to think Liam surely wouldn’t do something to me right here, with his mother just feet away and his father downstairs, but I knew better.
A second later, someone jostled me from behind.
A strong tightened around my hip, and something hard brushed against my side.
The hand moved to my back and pushed me to the ground, hard, so hard it caused me to lose my balance.
This wasn’t Liam. No, this was someone else, someone with malicious intent.
I fell to the ground, my knees hitting the floor and my purse dropping from my hand, scattering my lipstick and license and phone everywhere. I glanced up just in time to see the back of the man I’d seen sitting at the table next to me, his gray hounds tooth suit unmistakable as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view.
I tried to get up to follow him, but I lost my balance and fell back on my heels.
That’s how Liam found me a second later.
“Emery!” He rushed toward me, helping me up from the floor as he began to gather my things. “Jesus, what happened? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay, I just… someone pushed me.”
“What? Who?”
“I don’t know. A man, he was wearing a gray hounds tooth suit and his hair was salt and pepper.”
Liam was already on the phone, dialing his security, barking at them to check the outside of the restaurant for the man who’d done this.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket, then put his hand on my waist and began leading me down the hallway.
But then he stopped, pulling his hand away.
It was covered in blood.
My head went woozy.
“Oh, God,” I said.
“It’s okay,” he said, looking down at my dress, which was wet with something. His jaw twitched. “It’s not blood.”
“Then what is it?”
“Water and cornstarch with red dye.” He rubbed the sticky substance between his fingers, and sure enough, I could tell it wasn’t real blood. It was too bright and thick to be real.
“Fake blood?” I asked. “Why would someone want to smear fake blood on the side of my dress?” I remembered the man passing by, how he’d brushed against my side. He must have done it then.
“To send a message,” Liam said grimly. “That if he’d wanted to hurt you, he could have.”
8
Liam insisted we leave, not even taking a second to text his parents and let them know.
He called for the car, and as we waited outside for the valet to bring it around, I made the mistake of telling him that I’d noticed the man sitting at the table next to me earlier, that he’d been staring at me.
Liam’s shoulders tensed.
He was quiet on the ride back to his parents’ house. It still didn’t seem as if he’d texted them to let them know we’d left, and I knew better than to ask.
When we pulled into the driveway, Liam cut the engine, but made no move to get out of the car.
It was dark and the air outside was still. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where someone would be having a party or kids would be walking around late at night, shouting to each other. Everything was quiet.
We sat there in the dark, the only light coming from the outside lights of the house, two on either side of the front door, and a line of them flanking the stone walkway that led up to the front porch.
“You need to be more careful, Emery,” Liam said sternly.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said, turning on him. “I need to be more careful?”
“Yes.”
“That’s bullshit.”
I went to get out of the car, but he locked the door, keeping me prisoner.
“You know, you have some nerve,” I said. “You’re the one who left me to go downstairs with your father. You’re the one who doesn’t tell me anything. You won’t even tell me why we have to be careful, what these people -- ”
“You know there are people out there who want to hurt you, Emery. You’ve known that since Vegas.”
“You won’t tell me anything!” I said. I knew I was repeating myself, but I didn’t care. “You’re blaming me for something that isn’t even my fault.”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m telling you that you need to be more careful.”
“This is ridiculous.” I hit the button to unlock the door, then opened it before he could stop me and stepped out onto the driveway.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, opening his own door and following me.
“I’m leaving,” I said,
opening my purse and reaching for my phone. “I’m calling an Uber, I’m going to the airport, and I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not.” He grabbed my purse and held it out of my reach.
“Oh, of course,” I said. “Of course you would do that, of course you would try to keep me here, because that’s what you do.” My hands curled into fists by my sides, and I resisted the urge to scream. “You use your size and your power to keep me here, and it’s fucked up, Liam.”
His eyes burned with desire, and I saw him looking at me, taking in the dress I was wearing, his gaze roaming over my body hungrily.
He took a step toward me, and I tensed as my body did exactly what he’d primed it to do. My breathing deepened, my body flushed warm, and the spot between my legs pulsed with need.
I crossed my arms over my chest. I hated this. Hated this dynamic between us, hated the power he had over me, even as my body screamed for it.
He moved toward me, his hand closing around mine.
“You want to leave?” he asked.
“Yes.” I thrust my chin into the air, wondering if this would snap him out of his insistence on keeping things from me.
His eyes narrowed, and then he was grabbing me around the waist, picking me up from the ground and carrying me inside.
“Too bad.”
When we got to the bedroom, he stripped me, his movements harsh, pulling my dress from my body, unsnapping my bra, pulling my panties off roughly.
He was completely shut down now, still the man who’d picked me up that night, not the man he’d been the other night on his jet. Ever since we’d been here, at his parents’ house, he’d been that man, the dark one. He’d shown no sign of the humanity I’d seen glimpses of since being with him.
He allowed me to wash my face, to use the bathroom and brush my teeth. And then he handcuffed me to the bed.
I was naked, and I watched as his gaze roamed over my body. I forced myself to keep my eyes on his, not knowing how much more of this I could take, how much longer I could try to get through to him.
It was unbearable.
I waited, wondering what new sexual torture awaited me this time.
I could tell he wanted me.
I could see the arousal on his face, in the way his breathing quickened and his eyes hooded.
I wanted to turn away from him, but I wanted him more, wanted to connect with him.
He reached down and slid his finger down my naked body, over my chin, down between my breasts, over my abdomen, stopping just before the mound of my pussy.
I was sure he was teasing me.
But after a long moment, he turned away, leaving me there on the bed as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
I couldn’t sleep.
I tossed and turned, the thin blanket he’d given me providing no comfort.
After a couple of hours, I heard a voice coming through the open window, the one that looked out over the backyard.
Liam.
I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it sounded like he was arguing with someone.
Was he on the phone?
I pulled on the handcuffs experimentally, surprised to see that there was a tiny bit of give to them. Liam must have been in such a rush to cuff me that he hadn’t tightened them enough.
I pulled, trying to free myself, biting my lip to keep from screaming in pain as the metal bit into my wrist. There was a moment where I was afraid that not only wasn’t I not going to be able to get out, but that my wrist was going to get caught in the metal.
But a second later, I was free.
I gasped out loud in happiness and disbelief.
I rushed to the window and looked down at the yard below.
I couldn’t see anything in the darkness.
All I could hear was Liam’s voice, now coming from further down the house, to my right.
I still couldn’t make out what he was saying, only that he sounded agitated.
I threw on a sweatshirt and the yoga pants I’d worn on the plane, stopping to pull on a pair of socks, figuring they would help mask my footsteps.
Then I headed downstairs, navigating the wide hallways of the sprawling house, wincing every time one of the floorboards cracked, sure that suddenly Annabelle was going to come rushing out of the shadows, demanding to know what I was doing.
I followed the sound of Liam’s voice toward the side of the house, where the formal living room was located.
The window here wasn’t opened the way it had been upstairs, so even though I was closer, Liam’s voice was more muffled.
I flattened myself against the wall and peered through the Venetian shutters, which were slightly opened, just enough for me to see out.
The upper half of Liam’s body came into view.
He was standing in the side yard, but he wasn’t on the phone like I’d first thought.
He was with Drew.
I watched the two men just a few feet away from me, my heart pounding as I imagined what Liam would do to me if he found out I was spying.
“You’re being a stubborn fuck, Liam,” Drew said. He was smoking a cigarette, and I was almost sure I could smell the smoke wafting through the glass, even though the window was shut.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe. But that doesn’t explain why you won’t give your father the money for Portland.”
“You know damn well why I won’t give my father the money for Portland.”
“You’re really going to do this? This is insane, Liam. You realize what the consequences are, right?” The rest of what he was saying was cut off. He wasn’t talking as loud as Liam was, which is why I’d thought Liam had been on the phone at first.
“Is this about Vienna?” I heard Drew say, and my breath caught.
“I could give two shits about Vienna,” Liam said.
“Spoken like a man who could give a shit,” Drew said. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and when Drew took another puff of his cigarette, I saw the anger on Liam’s face. “Emery’s hot, bro, don’t get me wrong, but you know Vienna and that kinky –”
I watched Liam snap, watched as he grabbed Drew by the shoulders and slammed him up against the side of the house so hard that the window next to me shook.
I jumped back at the same time that I heard another noise, this one coming from upstairs.
Someone – Malcolm or Annabelle – was coming down the stairs. Shit. There was no way I could have them catch me lurking around their living room.
I didn’t have time to go back up the stairs – they would see me on the way back up – so I rushed through the hallway and into the kitchen, deciding that my best bet was to pretend I was getting a glass of water.
I began opening cupboards frantically, searching for a glass, hoping that by the time whoever it was came downstairs, I’d be leaning against the counter casually, enjoying my drink.
But there were no glasses in the cupboards.
In fact, there were no glasses anywhere.
The cupboards were bare, empty, their shelves wiped clean, not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere.
I frowned and began opening more cabinets, thinking that maybe since it was just the two of them, Annabelle and Malcolm didn’t use all of them.
But every cupboard I opened was bare. No plates, no cups, no glasses, nothing.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Malcolm’s deep voice boomed out behind me.
I turned, caught, and tried not to look guilty.
“I was thirsty,” I said, my heart pounding so fast that I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. “I thought I’d get some water.”
He stared at me, waiting for me to admit that I hadn’t found any glasses in the house. But something about his cool eyes made me think this would be a major mistake, that any mention of the lack of kitchenware would cause him to become upset.
We stood like that for a long moment, and I willed myself not to look away, somehow sensing that this, too, would
be a bad move.
It was difficult – Malcolm may have looked like an older version of Liam, but there was something off about him. Malcolm had a hardness to him, a coldness that was unlike anything Liam had ever displayed to me.
Liam was stoic, he could shut down and yes, he’d kidnapped me. But beneath the surface Liam’s real truth shone through, the look in his eyes sometimes betraying his demons, letting me know that whatever haunted him were ghosts beyond his control, something that had happened to him, events and circumstances that caused him to be the way he was.
Malcolm, on the other hand, had a coldness in his eyes that seemed like it was just there, like it was a part of him.
He studied me with those cold eyes now, his gaze on mine.
I didn’t look away, even as he moved to the other side of the room, opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, which he handed to me.
“Thank you.” I opened it and took a sip. My stomach was rolling, and the water tasted somehow warm, even though it had just come from the refrigerator.
“You’re welcome.”
I forced myself to swallow. “Well, I guess I’ll head back up to bed.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me?”
“Ask you what?”
“Why there are no glasses in the house.”
“Oh,” I said, my stomach turning. “I just… I didn’t …”
He stepped toward me. “You seem like a nice girl, Emery.”
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to that, so I stayed quiet.
“Which is why I’m going to tell you what I’m about to tell you, and I hope you’ll take it in the spirit with which it’s intended.” He paused, as if he were waiting for me to say that I would, but I stayed silent. I had a feeling talking to Malcolm was like being arrested – anything you said could and would be used against you. “Liam is not a nice man, Emery. He tries, but he needs… guidance.”
“Guidance?”
“Yes.” Malcolm nodded and then rubbed the back of his neck. For the first time since he’d come into the kitchen, he looked away from me.
My shoulders relaxed.
“He needs a woman who can be strong for him, who can take control of him, who can let him know exactly what he needs and wants. That’s why Vienna was so…” He trailed off. “Anyway. His mother and I want him home with us, want him to move back here, to oversee my restaurants in the Pacific Northwest, specifically Portland.”