Page 121 of Bad Blood

“It was different then. I shouldn’t have left you to deal with things alone. I’ve figured out better ways to cope. But you’re right, I’m not going anywhere. This is going to be hard, but you’re strong. We’ll get through this. Together.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you fall apart.” He shakes his head and shoves past me, shouldering me as he goes.

“This isn’t about me.”

“That’s a first,” he says through a chuckle as he wipes a hand across his cheek.

His words twist the knife in my side. “You pushed me away. You said to go. What was I supposed to do? Not listen? Not believe you when you said you want to do this on your own? You act like you’re fine, like this is no big deal, and the next second, you throw it in my face like I haven’t been there every step of the way. You didn’t tell me everything.”

“I didn’t think you could handle the truth,” he says, dismissing my frustration.

I stare at the ceiling, fisting my hands at my sides. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

He chokes back a snigger. “You’re right. I didn’t because I’ve seen how you are, how you react to things when they’re not in your control. And guess what? This is out of our control.”

I’m trying to hold back my temper. I don’t have all the info from his appointment, and I don’t know what in the fuck’s gotten into him, but he’s about to take this too far. “Are you done yet?”

He closes the distance between us.

And everything goes to hell.

The best advice I’ve received is simple: Life is about managing expectations—most of all, your own. But when his fist connects with my jaw, I realize expectations have little to do with reactions.

I stumble from the blow and flex my chin as I shake my head, wiping my thumb across my lower lip.

Liam’s silent. His eyes are large. In shock, I’m sure.

“Here’s a little tip . . . If you land a hit right here”—I point to my nose—“eyes will water, and your opponent won’t be able to see you.” I let that sink in and watch the fear in his eyes as I step toward him. I lower my voice and crack a smile. “Otherwise, I can still catch you.”

He sprints around the sofa, grabbing the recliner to block me. He’s much more agile than he should be with his hip. It must be something to do with his soccer.

“It was instinct.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Swear.” Laughter spills out of him as he dodges out of my reach.

Axel and Bane join in the chaos and nip at us as we skirt in and out of the kitchen and back into the living room. I trip over Axel and grab the hem of Liam’s shirt as I go down. He slips from my grasp and jumps over the back of the sofa, his landing graceful and just out of my reach. He swivels around in search of me. I crawl on my hands and knees, gripping the back of the sofa to hoist myself up.

“You’ll only get one of those in your life.”

His brow creases in confusion.

“A shot at me,” I say, sarcasm mixed with a bit of annoyance. I never in my wildest dreams would have guessed Liam would blow up like that. I can’t say I blame him, but it’s not in his nature to lose control of himself. A grin spreads across my face as he relaxes.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again.” He crosses his arms over his chest, balancing his foot on the soccer ball that’s rolled to the far side of the living room.

“Is that right?” I step around the sofa, and he moves in the opposite direction, juggling the ball from foot to foot.

“Don’t piss me off,” he says, wheels turning as his eyes bounce around the room, planning his escape.

“Is that what happened?”

“Would you have done it?”

I think about my answer for a minute. Would I? Would I have let my emotions get the better of me and acted out of instinct?

Absolutely.

“Truce?” I offer my hand.

He glances at it, considering. He narrows his eyes as he plots his escape, in case I don’t keep up my end of the bargain. “Truce.” He closes the space between us and shakes my hand, pulling me in for a hug. He shoves at me and grabs the ball cap off my head, racing to his room and slamming the door. “For now.”

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