Survival & Revenge (Boston Latte Book 3) Page 9

  He slammed the paper once more onto my lap, and I didn’t want to ignore it. I needed to see him, even if it was fake. I hoped. He was beautiful, a timeless man of elegance and charisma. And I lost him. Twice. Julian’s mouth spread into a wide grin, a candid moment of him at his best and most lethal—heir to the throne. His suit was dark, fitting perfectly over his body. I shivered thinking of him, and not with the butterflies I felt at his home days prior, but with guilt.

  “Aid,” Malcolm whispered into my ear as my eyes glossed. “He already knocked her up. Surprise.”

  “You want me to believe you so I’ll crumble?” I looked at Malcolm, his eyes bloodshot just like the last time I saw Elliott.

  “Yes, but I also want you to believe me because it’s the damn truth. You’re such a bitch sometimes, Aid!”

  “I know.” I looked at the newspaper, searching for the date. I felt horrible doubting Julian, for even considering this farce, but…three sunrises, hooded in the other room…It was dated the twenty-seventh of February. How long had I been there? A week? Two?

  “They won’t invite you,” Dylan interrupted my internal panic, “because, naturally, it’s taboo to invite the mistress.”

  “Mistress? She won’t have any claim on him once that kid comes out, and not if we do our damn jobs!” Malcolm snarled as he stood up to address Dylan. I shot a glance at Jack in the corner while Dylan and Malcolm argued, reflecting on the likelihood he let Malcolm’s brother into our building. Cedric was sent on a job, and now Malcolm was finishing it. It’s going to end the exact same way, asshole.

  “Your job, Malcolm? Like it was your brother’s job to kill me? We see how well that turned out.”

  He flew toward me, his palm slamming across my face, only fueling my confidence against his weakness. “Don’t you ever speak of him.”

  “It’s a shame he isn’t alive.” I tested him, waiting for him to crumble, and prepared for whatever harm he would inflict. He wasn’t in charge, and he hadn’t killed me yet. I knew he wouldn’t kill me then. If I was someone they wanted out of the way for Julian to marry Noelle, they would have ended me already. I knew it. Those bastards preferred torture. It was a game to them, to whoever was making the decisions, charting their steps. They were keeping me alive for something, and it wasn’t Malcolm Young who would be allowed to kill me when the game ended.

  “Alive,” Malcolm mocked. “The opposite of Elliott. Right, Aid? Tell me, how happy were you to finally kill him? I know it was you. I mean…you knew? Right? You knew he stole from you? That’s why you killed him? I guess it doesn’t matter now. We have you and your precious boyfriend in jail for killing Elliott…and you.”

  Dylan grabbed Malcolm by the collar, yanking him away from me with such force that Malcolm gagged and heaved for breath. He slammed Malcolm’s head into the wall, the thud echoing into the small room. I looked at Jack, then back at Malcolm, who ran from the room cupping his bloody nose. Me and my precious boyfriend in jail for killing Elliott…and me.

  I stood to run after them, but my legs were too weak. I fell onto the floor, on my hands and knees like an animal. In jail for killing me. I didn’t have a plan after chasing them; I just needed to know more. Julian. In that moment, the only difference between Jack and I was that one of our hearts was beating. Jack and I both failed—he died, I couldn’t protect myself. That changes right now. His face was gray and it officially creeped the shit out of me. I was done—done being their pawn, done being locked up, and done not knowing the truth. Finished.

  Crawling to the window, I placed my wobbly fingers on the windowsill, holding my weight against it as I pulled myself up to peer through the shattered pane. I recognized nothing below me. It didn’t sound like the Boston I knew, or even smell familiar. It reeked, but that could have been Jack and me. Neighbors again. I was too high to jump, but I considered it. I survived however long they kept me contained without food, a toilet, and in the company of Malcolm and a corpse. I could jump and get somewhere on broken legs. It was foolish. I might have been further fueled by my rage toward my captors, but I was stuck in a prison of their making without a key to escape. A key. A twist, a way out.

  My elbows bruised from leaning against the windowsill for so long, but it didn’t hurt. What they did to me, what scars on the outside, was painless as I considered their lie. Julian and Noelle, the prince and princess. Julian in prison for killing me. I was a shell containing a fire of hatred, but my heart was beating, my lungs moving; I was far from dead.

  Whoever that Dylan thug was, he was only partially incorrect. I would be invited to Julian’s wedding because I was going to marry him. I wasn’t Julian’s mistress. It was clear, however my heart battled the concept of attention and the risk it brought, the media thought I was his queen. Attention brought risk, and Julian knew it far too well. I thought back to the first time we went to his home, his reminders of press locations, the flashing lights a blur around us. He was protecting me from their prying lenses then, as he tried to protect me from the minds of something bigger. Now whose job is it? We were separated, imprisoned…I couldn’t imagine what had been done to him, what physical trauma he suffered. It’s only a matter of time. Hope. He’ll storm through, destroy whoever is responsible, and we’ll be okay. We have to be.

  I lifted my fingers to touch the skin Malcolm slapped when I mentioned his brother. The burn left almost immediately, as my body rejected pain he tried to inflict. There was nothing he could do to me that would leave its mark. There is something someone could do to destroy me. Malcolm wasn’t capable. He couldn’t even aim his gun. Hope. It’s just a matter of time, torture, and endurance. To get back into Julian’s arms, to just see him once more, I would suffer through every life. I was now onto my third life with him in my world.

  I only saw Noelle three times in my past lives, but her presence hung heavily like a disease with symptoms that flared enough just to remind one of its consequences. Julian would never marry her. Malcom’s words churned in my cloud of sorrow. I wouldn’t have claim to Julian once that kid comes out. I would have laughed, had I wished to exude any physical energy on Malcolm. Unless Julian was lying to me in the hotel, Noelle was not carrying his child. Julian battled too many demons to keep me, to keep us. Those demons were still tormenting us, from the hospital to the very moment in which I thought. My head throbbed with a triggered concept—if someone held the power to erase my memories in the hospital, they had the power to create an heir, however illegitimate or artificial.

  I looked out the window once more, my eyes heavy with deprivation of sustenance and sleep. The dark sky was clear, at least what I could see from the shattered pane, and I found my gaze settling on one sparkling star. It mocked me, and I hated it for that, its freedom and distance, its ability to shine or hide when time allowed. I envied it. I wanted to stare at that star from the hill, bound in Julian’s arms, on a blanket. I wanted to stare at that star from his bed, with him. I wondered if he could see its glow, if it sparkled upon him as I wished it would once we were together. I was imprisoned, and that damn star had it all—freedom and Julian.

  ***

  The sound of crunching glass woke me. I kept my eyes sealed, hoping to feel the warmth of Julian’s arms around me lingering through my dream and into my pained reality. I smelled his cologne before a word was spoken, letting the scent consume me with its familiar comfort.

  The concrete wall held me as I dozed against it, Jack’s body and the doorway in the shadows behind me. I heard his footsteps tentatively enter the space, the slight clearing of his throat before squatting behind me. Liam’s breath left a chill along my throat as his fingers gently pulled back my hair. He placed the soiled strands around my ear and softly glided his knuckles against my jaw. I shivered, opening my eyes and pretending once more it was Julian, not his brother.

  “They’ve not fed you,” Liam whispered. I turned my head to see him, spoiling my dream and trying to comfort me with the familiar. His expression was terrifying, full of dread.
The act returned, I assumed, for Liam to play his role of sadist and bastard for the rest of his companions to witness.

  “Why are you here?” I rolled my eyes up to the broken window, no longer seeing my star. Liam stroked my jaw once more, but it only left a cool numbness along my skin. Even my nerves preserved themselves for Julian. Liam wouldn’t answer, not even when I turned my head and stared at him.

  “Do you,” I cautiously looked behind Liam at the doorway, “have time, Liam? Do we have time?”

  “This reminds me of your first night back at Julian’s,” he replied, scanning my face with hollow eyes that haunted me, “when I came to check on our bird. Yes, we have some time, but not much.”

  “There never is enough, is there?” I watched Liam’s head hang, softly shaking before he extended both palms in front of me. His skin was inconceivably clean, worrying me that my hands would taint him. But I longed to touch him, the brother of my love, connecting myself in any way to Julian. I was desperate for contact, finding myself weak of heart and tumbling into Liam’s arms. I was filthy, but neither of us seemed concerned about soiling the suit and tie he wore.

  Liam’s strong arms consumed my frail existence, tightly binding me to him as though it would be the last he would ever see of me. His face pressed into my hair while one hand lifted to caress the other side of my head. Liam held me against him with grace, and I felt myself fall apart within his arms. Each sob received a tightened hold, and I craved the suffocation. I wiggled my head up to nestle against his neck, inhaling the heaven of his cologne. Liam’s feet balanced our weight, his restraint never faltering or giving way while he held me.

  He stroked my hair, his fingers combing through the crust of my torment as he placed the strands behind my ear once more with knuckles softly stroking my cheekbone. His fist opened, spreading along my head to anchor me against him. I closed my eyes, for one moment merely accepting affection from someone who cared for me. His silence was uncharacteristic, unnerving as we rested in an embrace that would have, in other circumstances, caused his brother to end Liam’s life.

  I realized it was nothing like affection shown to me that night in Julian’s bathroom. It wasn’t a greeting, an inquiry as to whether or not I was beyond a curiosity to them. His urgency to hold me without taking me from my incarceration spoke volumes of our existence.

  “Why are you saying goodbye to me, Liam?” My question fell in a whisper once my throat allowed dialogue. He was silent once more, allowing nothing to pass between us but beating hearts and secrets.

  “No limericks?” Nothing. Liam only tightened his hold around me, crushing my ribs beneath his muscles, and I could do nothing but wait. But Liam knew I was an impatient, intelligent bird. His face pulled back, both hands cupping my cheeks while Liam’s blue eyes burned into mine. If I squinted, those eyes looked so much like his brother, but they weren’t. Nobody’s eyes were as potent, as beautifully lethal, as Julian’s.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Why didn’t you tell me he’s in jail, Liam?” I pressed once more as Julian’s smile graced my thoughts. Liam blinked, avoiding my eyes once his opened, scanning my face.

  I felt his sigh, its weight rippling against me. “Because I didn’t know.”

  “Did you see him? Liam,” I wriggled from his hold, standing above him on wobbly legs, “tell me you’ve seen him. Tell me he’s okay and is coming for me. Tell me!”

  I watched Liam’s hands fall to his thighs, buying time before standing up and towering over me. His palms found my face once more, obnoxious with their possession as my heart resented Liam and his silence.

  “Tell me!” I growled, but his hands only stiffened in their warm hold.

  “He’s alive. Barely, like you, but alive, and losing his mind like a deranged fool.” He paused, licking his lips and pressing his gaze into mine. “Being caught between two women will do that to you.”

  “No.” My face contorted with what little strength my muscles maintained, disgusted at his comment and ready to cry. Liam turned away, his expression fixed on the window once his hands fell from me.

  I approached him, devoured by resentment and confusion, wishing to pull the elegance from his existence and strangle him with his tie. I pierced my nails into his bicep as I latched on to him, gaining his attention.

  His gaze lifted to meet mine, empty and oppressive. “It’s true.”

  “No. It isn’t. Screw you, Liam. You’re a horrible human being. How could I even consider there being an ounce of compassion in your soul? It isn’t true!”

  “Bird,” Liam took my wrists as they lifted to swing against his body, “I’m telling you the truth. You have your wings now. You’re free.”

  “I’ve always been free with Julian, Liam. He never took my will, my thoughts. It’s my heart he stole, and I never wanted it back. It belonged to him, and I’m not a thief. He is, and I like him that way.” The longer I stood in the cloud of his cologne, I wanted to vomit.

  “He’s not yours anymore, bird,” Liam whispered after a moment of reflection, his blue eyes narrowed at me. “Fly away.”

  Liam waited too long in that cell with me, dressed for the duties of his kingdom. He was spending too much time away from something, unless I was his something. I considered the man standing across from me, his concise delivery of punishing news and lack of riddles.

  I didn’t want Liam’s definition of freedom. It meant no Julian. I was free to be tortured further by a shattered heart, if their story was true. I need a key. It was apparent from the start of my third life, trapped in Julian’s home as he tried to solve our puzzle, that Liam was a revolving door to our circumstances, in and out. Liam is my key.

  Think. Think. Think. I needed to get ahead of him, place myself before Liam and whatever in he had with the people elsewhere in that building. I was desperate. It didn’t matter that I was covered in days of filth or that I reeked of my own demise. Liam was malleable, and I inhaled it in one gulp, along with the potency of his intoxicating cologne. I couldn’t think of the potential my actions would have against Julian’s heart; we were in a war, and it seemed everyone was fair game.

  “Take me home with you, Liam. Get me out of here.” I withdrew my claws and stepped around to face him, pressing my body against his. Liam watched tentatively, rigid and tense. He wasn’t the brother I knew in my three lives. He was serious, contemplative, and I swallowed it whole.

  “Take me.”

  Wrapping his tie between my frail, bruised fingers, I wound the fabric and gave it a weak tug. Liam’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, avoiding mine, so I tugged once more—harder. His hands found mine, quick to secure our fingers around his tie. I lifted my eyes to meet his, rewarded with the gentle narrowing of sparkling blue.

  “They want to kill you, bird,” he whispered. “They want you gone. You’ve been replaced. Wake up.”

  I pulled on his tie, our chests adhered so tightly that his heart beat against mine. “Your eyes sparkle when you’re lying, Liam. Just like your brother.” He didn’t answer me, and I didn’t take for granted his lack of movement. Liam demonstrated no urgency, no sense to suggest he was there to free me or kill me.

  I observed the shimmer in his dark eyes, waiting for Liam to blink or move. The lines of his left eye deepened with a slow, meditated wink. If I hadn’t stared at him, desperate for a sign, I would have missed it.

  “Take my wings,” I urged in a whisper, pressing myself against him, our hands crushing my ribs. I reeked. I was repulsive. Yet the wink returned with a gentle lift of Liam’s grazing knuckles against my cheek. I waited, breath held, while baby Molloy’s gaze flicked between my eyes and stopped at my chapped lips.

  “I’ll do whatever you want, Liam,” I muttered, looking away from him. I couldn’t help the wave of guilt that engulfed me. What the hell am I doing? I belittled myself further, trying to flirt with my boyfriend’s brother as an escape, but I was desperate. I needed to live, to be with Julian, or there wasn’t purpose to the torture.

&
nbsp; “Why haven’t they killed me yet? Taking my memories is one thing, but our love is too great.”

  “Was.” Liam cleared his throat, his eyes tracing his caress along my cheekbone. “Your love was too great.”

  “Whose side are you on?” I released his tie, lifting both of my soiled, cracked hands to hold his chiseled jaw. “Ours, theirs…yours?”

  Once more, the master of riddles fell silent and took the pounding of my heart with him as he released from my hold, stepping toward the window with his back to me. Liam placed himself in a vulnerable position, something he wouldn’t have done if he truly was against me.

  “I don’t know whose side you’re on, Liam. Honestly, I don’t care. I will do whatever it takes, whatever you want, to get me out of here.” And back to Julian.

  “Whatever it takes, Aideen?”

  “Bird,” I corrected him, only to receive his quiet scoff in return. My eyebrows furrowed, exuding far too much energy in my frail form, as I watched Liam turn from the window. His eyes lost their sparkle, hollow and dark, as he looked beyond me to the doorway.

  “Whatever it takes,” he mocked my words, “is going to break your heart. But at least you can fly now.”

  He stared at me like I was beneath him, his eyes cast down the length of his nose until they met mine with regret. I contained my trembling body within crossed arms, returning his glare as best I could. Whatever it takes is going to break my heart. It was already broken—twice. All that remained of it was Julian’s, wherever he was.

  “What will it take, Liam?” I probed, hoping for honesty as I approached him.

  “Birds aren’t meant to be caged, Aideen,” he muttered despondently.

  “Cage me, dammit! Take my wings and tear them off, Liam, stifle me and smother me with the torment. I just want Julian!”

  Liam’s hands tightened around my shoulders with one sharp shake before he spoke, his eyes narrowed with quiet rage. “You can’t have him!”