by Elle Thorpe
But he still didn’t elaborate any further on what the relationship between the two of them was. Instead, he changed the subject. “Any other night, this place would be full of people. It’s super popular. Cheap drinks, sexy dancers. She’s got a few more rooms that lead off of this one, for guys who dance for guys. Or guys who dance for girls. Some other things, too.”
I widened my eyes. “What sort of other things?”
Liam gave me a wicked grin. “The sort of things that your sweet, innocent mind has never even thought about.”
Despite his assumption that I was still the naïve nerd from high school, I was pretty sure I knew what he was getting at. It wasn’t a huge jump to go from strip club to sex club. “The kind of thing that requires such a high level of familiarity with a lawyer?”
“Not so sweet and pure after all, are you? Exactly those sorts of things.”
I glanced around the room again with a new eye. Right now, it just looked like a somewhat run-down commercial space. But on closer inspection, I noticed the lights pointed at the stage, and a DJ booth at the back of the room. The concrete floor sparkled in spots, and when I squinted, I realized it was glitter. If the house lights were off, it wasn’t completely unimaginable that this room could be filled with people, with half-dressed dancers making their way through the crowd, making sure everybody had a good time.
Eve arrived with two bowls full of steaming stew and a plate of crusty bread. She set it down on the table between us, and then stood back, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.
I nearly groaned out loud just from the intense aroma. “Thank you.”
“Welcome. Enjoy it. We’re done with practice for the night. But Liam knows how to lock up. Wash your plates.”
Liam stood and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks. Catch you later?”
Eve nodded and strode out toward the door we’d come in, her two bandmates following after her.
Liam sat back in his seat and stabbed a fork into a thick chunk of sauce-covered meat.
“We going to talk about why the owner of a strip club in Saint View trusts you to lock up her business?”
“Nope. Eat your stew.”
Fair enough. The food was calling my name. I dug in, my taste buds exploding at the delicious flavor. “What is this? It’s amazing.”
“Old recipe her mom taught her how to make. It’s her specialty. And Eve will feed anyone who happens to be in the neighborhood. She probably had half her staff here earlier, and who knows who else. Seriously. Eat your food.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes, Liam concentrating mostly on his bowl. I didn’t mind. It gave me the chance to really study him. He ate slowly and carefully, like he was savoring every bite. He found napkins for the two of us, and after we both wiped our mouths, he leaned back in his chair. “Do you still sing?”
I shook my head. “No. Singing died when Whirlwinds of Aurora broke up. Laura and Simon went on to get married after all that drama, and I turned my angsty poetry writing into somewhat less angsty English classes for seven-year-olds.”
“Were you good?”
There was a tiny edge of a competitive challenge in his voice. I remembered it from school. It wasn’t really in my nature to brag on myself, but there was something about being in Liam’s presence that made me competitive, too. And truth was, I was good. “Yep.”
He jerked his head toward the stage, Eve’s microphone still cradled in a stand. “Have a go.”
“Not a chance.”
“Come on. I think you want to. I saw the way you practically ran in here when you heard Eve singing. You’re drawn to music.”
“I am. So what? You want me to just put a show on for you?”
He bit his lip and raised one eyebrow. “Shows here generally involve nudity, you know. Just saying.”
“You wish.”
He pushed to his feet, striding over to the microphone and grabbing it from its cradle. He flicked a few buttons, and the speakers around the room crackled to life. “One song. It can even be a Whirlwinds of Aurora original if you want.”
If looks could kill, he would be dead on the spot.
He chuckled and plugged his phone into a cord by the speakers. “Pick your poison, then. Taylor Swift?”
I stood and closed the distance between us, taking the microphone from his hand. “For the record, there’s nothing wrong with Taylor Swift. She is gorgeous, rich, and insanely talented. So I resent the sarcasm in your tone. But no. Give me your phone.”
I plucked it from his outstretched fingers. He already had his Spotify app open, and I went right for the search bar, knowing the song I was thinking of wouldn’t be on any of his playlists.
I found the right listing and hit ‘play’, grinning as the opening riff to, “Sugar, We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy, blasted into the room. I spun around in a happy little circle, the familiar song never failing to make me happy. “I love this song.”
“I can see that. Sing it.”
There was a challenge in his voice that he knew I couldn’t back down from. And as the music rolled through me, I let my mind go blank and released the tension I’d been holding on to for the past few weeks. The stress of Heath being in prison, and my new job there. Rowe, and the way he seemed intent on running me out. And the biggest one of all… The fact I missed my sister so desperately I couldn’t even stand to think about her. I’d spent weeks trying to block out the memories of her lifeless body, and I didn’t want to let that back in. So instead, I sang. I let the entire first verse pour out of me, reliving the song I’d first learned when I was sixteen years old and the lead singer of a three-piece garage band who thought they were going to take over the world.
I opened my eyes for the chorus, and my gaze slammed into Liam’s. There was something in his eyes that made my heart skip. Maybe it was because I’d suddenly been transported back to that teenage girl who had a huge crush on him. That girl would never believe that I was standing here right now, singing a punk rock song in the middle of an empty strip club, with Liam Banks as my only audience.
The words died on my lips. The lyrics completely flew from my brain while it went haywire over the sudden pull of the man who was no longer the teenage boy I remembered. He was something a whole lot more. Still cocky. Still arrogant. But not in a way that made me want to beat him anymore.
Now, I was pretty sure I just wanted to do a whole host of other things. Much more adult things.
The realization was startling.
Liam closed the space between us, his long legs eating up the distance with ease, his gaze never leaving mine. He stopped just a few inches from me, close enough I had to tilt my head.
My breath caught in my chest. Butterflies rippled around my belly. The hand that held the microphone to my lips dropped to my side, and Liam’s fingers wrapped around mine, stopping it from clattering to the floor.
“Mae,” he said softly, my name on his lips low and sexy.
I tried to make my mouth move, tried to get it to say something that made coherent sense, but the best I could manage was a strangled, “Mmm?”
His gaze dipped to my lips, and his fingers tightened around mine. “Did you forget the words?”
“Something like that,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.
“Why?”
I couldn’t tell him that. I couldn’t tell him it was because I was drowning in the depths of his eyes and thinking about what he’d look like naked.
He brought the microphone back up to my mouth. But my brain was still completely shut off, and any lyrics that I’d once memorized were now lost in a surge of hormones that had taken over with Liam this close to me.
He lowered his head another inch, and when his lips parted, I sucked in a deep breath.
Jesus Christ.
Liam Banks was going to kiss me and make all my teenage dreams come true. I closed my eyes, waiting for it. Yearning for it. Desperate to know how he tasted.
The screech of tires on t
he road outside broke us apart.
And a spray of bullets exploded through the room.
22
Mae
There was no mistaking the sound of bullets shattering glass and punching through drywall. A scream ripped from my throat, cut off only when Liam threw himself at me, knocking the two of us to the floor. My shoulder slammed into the hard concrete, the wind pushing from my chest, and pain shot through my arm and elbow. Liam’s big body covered mine, my head cradled in the crook of his elbow, his face pressed into my neck.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight, protecting them against the clouds of debris floating from the puncture wounds the bullets made in the walls. I waited for one to pierce my skin.
It didn’t come.
The debris settled, and the noise of gunshots disappeared in the distance, replaced once more by Fall Out Boy lyrics.
“Liam.”
But he cupped a hand over my mouth and shook his head hard. His gaze raked over me, checking for injuries. “Are you okay?” he whispered. “Don’t speak. Just nod.”
I did a quick scan of my body and found that apart from where we crash-landed on the floor, I was uninjured. I nodded and tried to speak from beneath his hand. “Are you—”
Liam cut me off. “Quick. Get up. Go lock yourself in the bathroom.”
He rolled off me, and I instantly missed the safety his weight had provided. “What? Why?”
“They might be following up on foot. Seriously, Mae. Go.”
But I wasn’t about to do that. I wasn’t going anywhere without him. I wasn’t going to leave him out here for dead if some gang stormed the place. I wobbled, getting to my feet, and brushed the plaster dust off me. “I’m not leaving you. So unless you’re coming, too, I’m saying right here.”
With a sigh and a mumbled word that sounded an awful lot like “stubborn,” he hurried to the doors, checking the locks, and peering through the peephole. He pulled his phone from his pocket, punched something into the keypad, then held it up to his ear. “It’s okay,” he said to me, while he waited for the person on the phone to answer. “I don’t think there’s anyone out there. Probably just a drive-by.”
“Just a drive-by?” I squeaked.
He’d said it so casually, like it was a completely normal Tuesday occurrence. My heart still slammed against my chest so hard it was almost painful. “Are you calling the police?”
I trailed after him, not wanting to be alone, and not wanting him to be alone either.
“No. Eve. She’s going to have a fit.”
I blinked. “Somebody just sprayed this room with bullets, and you’re not calling the police?” I pulled my phone out and tapped out the numbers nine-one-one.
Liam shot a hand out and grabbed my wrist. “No, don’t.”
I shook him off and hit the green button, connecting the call. “Why not?” I hissed.
“That’s not what they do around here.”
“That’s ridiculous—hello? Yes. I need the police, please.”
Liam groaned. He raked a hand through his normally neat hair. “Fuck.” Then he turned away to fill Eve in on what had happened, while I did the same with the police. Even though the adrenaline was fading, nerves replaced it. It was hard to stand still while I answered the dispatcher’s questions.
Liam and I both finished our calls at the same time. I went to move toward him, but his expression stopped me.
“Come on. I’ll take you home. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he said stiffly.
“Wait, what? We can’t just leave. This is a crime scene. The police will want to interview us. And what do you mean you shouldn’t have brought me here?” I bristled at the sudden assumption that I didn’t belong here. I was still pissed off about Rowe telling me that. I didn’t need it from Liam, too. I didn’t need any man telling me where I did or didn’t belong.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Liam went on vacantly, almost as if I wasn’t even there. “I could have taken you anywhere. This wouldn’t have happened in Providence. I should have just taken you to a nice restaurant. You could have been killed.”
My annoyance dissipated instantly at the pure regret in his tone. I softened at the guilt he’d obviously piled straight on his own shoulders. “Well, I doubt you were thinking that somebody was going to shoot the place up. I know I don’t normally walk into a business assuming the walls are about to become Swiss cheese.” I said it with a tiny smile, but my attempt at humor fell sadly flat. I tried a different tack. “Hey, I’m fine. And we were having a good time, weren’t we?”
Liam didn’t answer, his gray eyes stormy.
A hard knock came on the door, and Liam moved away so quickly it left me feeling like he was grateful for the interruption. I wrapped my arms around myself, the warmth in the room suddenly evaporating and turning cold. Liam opened the door, admitting two police officers, one familiar.
“Mae? What the hell?” Boston stormed over to my side and grabbed me by the tops of my arms. “What are you doing here? Were you here during the shooting?”
I nodded, the weight of Liam’s gaze touching the side of my face.
“I was the one who called the police.”
“Good. It’s about time somebody around here did the right thing.” Boston glared at Liam, something unsaid passing between the two of them.
Liam didn’t get a chance to reply before Eve burst through the door, eyes wide and hair wild.
Gone was the sexy, tight-fitting dress she’d worn earlier. And in its place were fluffy slippers and a silky robe tied hastily around her waist. It was so short it barely covered her ass, and whatever she wore below it cut deep between her breasts, showing off her full cleavage. Her gaze darted around her damaged club, finally landing on the two cops. Her lip curled. “Get the hell out of my club, Boston. I’ve got this.”
Boston’s gaze flared hot as he took in Eve’s outfit, but he shut it down in the space of a second. His eyes narrowed on her. “Your club is now crime scene, Evil. So how about you get the hell out. You’re holding up my investigation.”
At the taunting nickname, Eve shot Boston a look that should have withered him to the spot, leaving his new partner to not only investigate the shooting, but Boston’s sudden and instant death. Probably a violent one, too, if the fire and sparks shooting from Eve’s gaze were anything to go by. “I have rights,” she seethed.
“You do. Like the right to let me work out what the hell happened here tonight. Don’t make me arrest you, Eve. Not again.”
My eyes widened. I was suddenly beginning to understand why Liam hadn’t wanted me to call the police. There was obviously no love lost between these two, and a whole lot of history.
I gave my statement to Boston, while Liam gave his to Boston’s new partner. More police cars arrived while we talked, and they blocked off the scene with copious amounts of yellow-and-black crime scene tape.
Both of us refused medical attention, and then we were free to go. Eve stood on the other side of the tape, glaring at anyone who dared to meet her gaze. She didn’t seem to give a shit that she was barely dressed. All she cared about was getting back inside her club, and maybe killing Boston in the process. Her gaze followed him around the room, watching his every move, like he was some petty criminal who might be considering shoplifting from her.
Liam’s hand touched the small of my back. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“What about Eve?”
He shook his head. “She’ll be fine. She’s Saint View born and bred. She knows how to handle it, and there’ll be no getting her to leave anytime soon. The club is her baby. The true love of her life. As soon as the cops let her in, she’ll go straight into damage control mode, cleaning up and fixing the walls. She’ll have the place back together again before the show tomorrow.”
I let myself be guided to the car and watched Eve through the windshield as I put my seat belt on. She didn’t even glance our way, the club her entire focus.
Liam
got behind the steering wheel, and we left the lot silently, nobody paying us any attention.
The silence in Liam’s car was the complete opposite to how we’d driven here, laughing and joking with each other. Now it was tense and awkward. Neither of us even tried to turn the radio on. We moped in the tension, the silence becoming more and more unbearable as the miles rolled by.
Once we got into Providence, I directed him to my building in short, mostly one-word instructions until there was nothing left but for me to actually get out of the car.
But I didn’t move. I didn’t want to leave. Not like this.
Liam cleared his throat. “Listen. I’m sorry. I feel awful.”
“I really wish you wouldn’t. It was hardly your fault.”
He nodded, but I could see that he was seriously beating himself up over it. All I wanted to do was make him feel better. He was so damn hard on himself. I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I’d been having a good time. And I certainly hadn’t forgotten the way it felt to have his hand wrapped around mine, his breath misting over my lips. I hadn’t forgotten how much I’d wanted him to kiss me. “So you were right, by the way.”
“About what?”
“You said by the end of the night I’d be wanting another date with you.”
The edges of his lips turned up, and the cocky Liam I knew started edging his way back to the surface. He peered at me from the corner of his eye. “You asking me out, Mae Donovan?”
I lifted one shoulder. That hadn’t exactly been my plan. But I was still a bit buzzed. It would have been easy to blame the adrenaline, except it wasn’t only that. A large part of it was that I’d been standing there, anticipating his kiss. And feeling things I hadn’t felt since…well, since Heath.
The reminder of Heath made me pause.
Liam let out a long breath. “Okay, well, I read that wrong…”
I put a hand on his knee. “No. You didn’t. I was sort of asking you out. I was having a good time with you tonight, until…you know…our date turned into a Jason Bourne movie.”