Page 134 of When Hearts Awaken

“Liam?” I whisper, my pulse still clamoring in my veins.

He stands and smooths his hands over his leather jacket. “Charles.”

“H-How?”

“Liam saved me from the vultures outside the hotel,” Taylor murmurs as she strides up to me.

Relieved, I wrap her in my arms and inhale her familiar sweet fragrance of vanilla and patchouli. “Thank God you’re safe. I was so worried.”

“It’ll take more than a few aggressive paps to get me,” she mumbles into my chest and I chuckle.

Liam shifts on his feet before walking toward the door.

“Liam!” I holler and he stops and turns toward me. “Thank you.”

He smirks. “I was in the area when they aired the press conference live and I had to swing by to make sure you guys were all right. It was the least I could do.”

He looks at Taylor, his gaze softening. “You were a badass. Both at the hospital and at the press conference. My brother is a lucky fucker.”

Lifting his hand in a half wave, he slips out of the penthouse and quietly closes the door behind him.

Inhaling my first real breath since the press conference, I look at Taylor. “You did a great job at the press conference. I’m so fucking proud of you,” I murmur. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” she murmurs. “Do you think it’ll work?”

Lead lines my stomach as I think about the plan Elias devised. The man scares me sometimes. You never know what’s going through his mind by looking at him.

“His plan has merit. Emerson and Elias are combing through the dark web to look for photographic and video evidence of that night, but the bastard probably deleted them off the servers now that he knows we are onto him. Absent hard evidence, we need a confession.”

Taylor swallows. “Because I washed everything away back then. There’s no more evidence.” Anguish fills her eyes.

I grip her shoulders, a fierce need to reassure her pulsing through me. “You listen to me. You did nothing wrong back then. You were a young woman who was just brutalized in the cruelest way. I read some books on assault victims and what you did was normal. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

She heaves out a deep breath as she nods at my words. I continue, “But to convict the bastard, we need admissible evidence. The bastard is obviously spooked since he’s threatening you. And now, with the press conference, you’ve essentially told him to shove his blackmail up his ass. You’ve also told him you know who he is. He will act. And we’ll catch him when he does.”

Dread slithers inside me, slowly coiling around my windpipe as I imagine who that culprit most likely is. “And if it’s Ian…if it’s him, I know my uncle, he wouldn’t be able to sit still and do nothing.”

The man practically raised me. The laughter and smiles he gave us with his tower of presents over the holidays when Grandma was busy and we were alone in the mansion. The trips to Coney Island. The way he flew back to help me with the scandal, no questions asked.

How could this man be the monster who raped Taylor?

Part of me wants to hold on to denial even as the pieces of the puzzle slide together, but another part of me wants to know the truth once and for all.

Dipping my forehead against hers, I ask the question that has kept me up at night. “If it is him, would you still stay with me? The nephew of your rapist?”

Would you leave me too? Like everyone else in my family?

Taylor grabs my face and presses her lips against my mouth, her kiss turning ardent and passionate by the second.

Groaning, I hoist her up and deepen the kiss, unmoored by the passion in her body as she grinds herself on me, her talented mouth sucking my tongue before she nibbles my lips, jawline, and rakes her teeth down my neck.

“Fuck,” I mutter, walking us into my dark bedroom, not even bothering to turn on the light. A slither of daylight seeps through the gap of the drapes as Taylor climbs down my body and pushes me into the black leather armchair I have in the corner of the room. “Tay?”

She backs away, and in the dim light, I see her eyes glistening with moisture. What’s this? Was that a goodbye kiss?

Desperation flits through me.

Gripping the leather, I move to stand, but she points to the chair again. Confusion swirls inside my chest and I sit back down, wondering what the minx is doing.

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