Page 29 of Little Horrors & Deceptions

Liam captured my lips in another searing kiss. His hands roamed my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I lost myself in the sensation, pushing my doubts aside.

For now, at least, I’d let myself fall.

I traced my finger along the raised lines on Liam's back, feeling each ridge and valley. His skin was warm, still flushed from our lovemaking. Scars crisscrossed his muscular shoulders like a roadmap of pain.

Liam’s eyes were closed, his breathing steady, but I sensed he wasn’t asleep. There was tension in his jaw, a slight furrow between his brows. My heart ached as I imagined the trauma behind those scars. What horrors had Liam endured? I wanted to know, but a small part of me feared the answer. I continued exploring, memorizing each mark. Some were thin and precise, others jagged and brutal.

Liam shifted slightly. “That tickles,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I smiled, despite the heaviness in my chest. “Sorry,” I whispered, stilling my hand on his lower back.

He opened those striking green eyes, gazing at me. The vulnerability there made my breath catch. We lay in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. I struggled with the urge to pry, to uncover Liam’s secrets, but I held back, not wanting to shatter this fragile intimacy. I traced a particularly long scar that ran from his shoulder blade to his lower back. My throat tightened. I couldn’t stop my curiosity then.

“What happened?” I asked softly.

The pain I saw in his eyes was raw—visceral. For a moment, he just stared at me, his jaw clenching and unclenching. I could almost see the memories flickering behind his eyes.

Liam’s voice was low and rough when he finally spoke. “The Croix family,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. “Remember how I told you they never caught who killed my mom?” He paused and swallowed hard. I waited, and nodded, not trusting my voice. My fingers stilled on his back, resting lightly over a cluster of scars. “Well, I know who did it, but the Croixes have always gotten out of everything with money,” hesaid, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. “When I was a teen, I came home from school one day…” His eyes glazed over, like he was lost in the painful memory. I fought the urge to pull him close, to shield him from the horror I knew was coming. “My mom was a single parent after my dad left. We always struggled financially,” Liam continued. “I never knew she’d gotten a loan from the Croixes and their loan shark operation.”

My stomach clenched. I’d seen firsthand the devastation caused by predatory lenders like the Croixes. Liam’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “She couldn’t pay it back on time, and a group of them showed up at our home.” I held my breath, dreading his next words. “They beat her and my sister to death.” His voice cracked. “I walked in as it was happening. They sliced me up while I watched them finish them off… I never understood why they left me breathing, maybe to teach me a lesson somehow.” Tears welled in my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. A lump formed in my throat, choking me. I wanted to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But I couldn’t.

“Liam… I’m so sorry.” The words felt hollow, inadequate in the face of such profound loss. How many people had told him that in hopes of making him feel better? How many times had he heard those empty apologies, those futile attempts to ease the unbearable weight he carried? My apology was no different, and I was sure he saw it as just another meaningless phrase. But in the moment, it was all I had to give—to say—wrapped in the broken pieces of my heart, a reflection of the guilt I couldn’t shake. The guilt that built day by day with every victim of the Croix family I’d encountered.

Ihatedthem, along with all the other people who’d slipped through the cracks.

His shoulders tensed, and I saw it—the storm he held inside, the anger, the grief, the exhaustion. I wanted to reach out, totouch him, to somehow absorb some of that pain. But I stayed rooted on the bed, helpless.

My mind raced, piecing together everything I knew about the Croix family from my time as an agent. The corruption, the violence, the lives they'd ruined without consequences. Bile rose in my throat.

“They’ve hurt so many people, destroyed so many lives. And they just… get away with it.”

Liam’s hand found mine, his touch both comforting and electrifying. “So you’ve heard of them too?” he asked softly.

I nodded, swallowing hard. “More than I care to remember. The system… it’s broken. The really bad ones always seem to slip through the cracks.”

Liam’s hand reached up, his thumb gently wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch was tender, at odds with the intensity in his eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm. “It was a long time ago.”

I searched his face, marveling at his strength. “How come you seem so calm about it?”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Because they will get what’s coming to them eventually.” There was something in his tone, a quiet certainty that sent a thrill through me. My gaze drifted to the clock on the nightstand. Almost eleven. The morning had slipped away.

“Does this mean I’m late to work?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious. The agent in me hated the thought of tardiness, even under these circumstances.

Liam shook his head, a mischievous glint replacing the earlier darkness in his eyes. “Fucking your boss has perks,” he said, his voice low and playful. Before I could react, he pulled me into another kiss, his lips warm and insistent against mine. For a moment, I lost myself in the sensation, my body responding tohis touch. But the rational part of my brain kicked in, reminding me of the day ahead. I pushed at his chest, breaking away.

“Liam,” I breathed, trying to ignore the way my body reacted to him. “We can’t just—”

He chuckled, the sound sending a different kind of thrill through me. “Can’t we?” he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin. I struggled to maintain my composure. Part of me wanted to give in, to lose myself in him and forget about everything else that lurked beyond this room. But I knew we couldn’t hide away in here forever.

“We have to get some work done today,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. Liam huffed, frustration evident in the slouch in his shoulders. I couldn’t help but laugh at the childlike pout on his lips.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the cool air raising goose bumps on my skin. My pants lay crumpled on the floor, and I snatched them up, the fabric rough against my fingers. As I pulled them on and stood, adjusting my clothes and running a hand through my tangled hair, Liam watched me, his eyes dark with a mixture of desire and something deeper—trust, maybe. Or was it vulnerability?

“I’ll see you down there,” I said over my shoulder, injecting a lightness into my tone that I didn’t quite feel. I threw him a wink, hoping to leave him with a smile rather than the haunted look from earlier.

I stumbled into my apartment, exhausted but buzzing from the night and morning I’d had with Liam. I closed the door but when I turned around my stomach dropped. There, sprawled out on the couch, was Johnathan. His hair stuck up in all directions, his headphones were askew. Empty junk food wrappers littered the coffee table. His eyes gleamed with mischief as they met mine.

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