Page 9 of Bound in Promise
He frowns, unable to deny it.
“It was a mistake,” he admits with a sigh, as if he’s resigned to what he did and frustrated at having to explain it. “You weren’t around?—”
“Forcing me into marriage so you could steal my trust fund was really the icing on the cake, Liam. You’re not the man I thought I knew. You’re selfish and weak. Looking out only for yourself and the next piece of pussy you can claim.”
He sighs again. “Then I guess talking about working things out between us is pointless.”
“I think so.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t move. Maybe he’s thinking about all the things he’s done, maybe even reconsidering what he’s doing now. He doesn’t have many options. The only path to a happy ending for him is stealing my money and disappearing.
Frustrated, I shift my legs, which are starting to cramp. Then I realize my left is wedged between Liam’s.
Cock shot.
This stupid motherfucker is either so lost in the haze of his own twisted fantasy or convinced that I’m too blinded by fear to see that I can easily put my knee in his junk.
Fuck him.
And fuck this.
My knee thrusts upward and I connect with his balls so hard that I wonder if he can feel them in his throat. If I’m lucky, they’ve returned to wherever they dropped from.
Liam hollers in pain, keeling over and releasing my hands. I don’t hesitate, shoving him off me. He rolls to the mattress as I turn away and nearly fall to the floor. Quickly, I get my feet under me and stand, unsure of what my next step is.
He has a gun somewhere, and I have nothing. Nothing except a stolen phone that I can’t lose.
“You fucking bitch!” he roars, legs still clenched together.
My eyes land on the bedside table. On the gun lying there.
This is your chance.
I round the bed quickly, picking up the weapon before Liam has a chance to recover.
Instead of widening in surprise as I level the barrel at him, Liam’s eyes narrow to thin, challenging slits. He doesn’t think I’ll do it. Doesn’t think I can shoot him and walk away.
It’s what an entitled asshole would do. What he would do.
“Fuck you, Vee,” he clips out. “You’re not going to shoot me.”
“Try me.” I’ve never held a gun before, but I manage to hold it steady, which is surprising. “I’m leaving,” I profess evenly. “And you can fuck all the way off, Liam. I don’t want to see you ever again. Don’t come after me again, don’t even think about being in the same room?—”
“You think you can banish me after marrying my uncle? We have debts to settle! You’re never going to be free of Angelo,” he presses, pushing himself up on one elbow. “This isn’t a game, there’s no get-out-of-jail-free card.”
“But you thought you had one, right? And it’s your fault I’m in this mess to start with. If you hadn’t posted that fake engagement picture...”
He glowers at me. “I had a plan. And you can still come?—”
“Fuck your plan. Fuck you.” Liam begins to slide off the bed and I move the gun, keeping it pointed towards him. “Don’t move.”
“You’re not going to shoot me, Vee. You’re stuck with me—” My finger tugs at the trigger, past the brief resistance, and a loud shot goes off. My ears start ringing and I step back, shocked by what I’ve done, what I’ve had to do.
Liam jerks back, a shout of pain escaping his lips as he glances down at the damage.
My eyes follow his gaze.
A red stain blooms across his light blue shirt, spreading out from his shoulder.
