Page 150 of Quinlan

“She what?”

“She laughed. Mimicked my voice. Told her boyfriend I was such a fucking baby and that he should ignore me.” Despite the clean air of the room, Liam coughs, clearing his throat. “I pushed the door with my shoulder. I wasn’t as big as I am today. I had just turned nine. It took forever until I broke through the wood shutters. Pushed the chair and got out.” Liam covers my hand that’s on his scar with his much larger one. “Aria didn’t let my parents know I was hurt, only an ambulance and the fire department. My parents were called by their coworkers in the hospital. How fucking hilarious is that?”

There’s nothing funny about that. Not a goddamn thing. “She’s in prison, right?”

“No. Her reason for locking me in there in the first place was that I was violent with her. Threatened to gut her with a knife for fun.” Liam’s voice is cold. His gaze, however, is a wildfire. “My parents believed me. They cried, shouted at the police officers who came to the hospital. They told my parents I was lucky Aria decided not to press charges. She did have a witness. Her boyfriend.”

“Where is she now?” My question is part curiosity, part needing to get to her myself and throttle the bitch. “Address. Give me an address.”

“At home. We got her fired.”

So many other questions follow up his statement. It’s clear, though, from how tightly his lips are pressed together that Liam won’t answer all of them.

“How?”

“We own the company she worked for.”

That’s it?

They’re planning something far more elaborate than hurting my half-brother. This can’t be it.

“What else is there?”

“That’s all you’re getting tonight.” Liam’s hand is around my neck. His lips crash against mine.

His mouth shuts me up.

I want to slap him across his beautiful face. Accuse him of doing the same thing Damien did to me earlier. Tell him it’s getting old.

No one’s letting me in too deep.

My body has other plans. It responds to Liam. My fingers dive into his unruly hair, demanding he come closer. Kiss me harder. His tongue wars with mine, and when I moan, Liam groans for me.

The heat between my legs becomes unbearable with every passing second. With every bite and lick and nip. Every time Liam squeezes his fingers on my neck, he’s driving me to the edge of insanity. He’s pushing me past it.

He’s pushing me away from him. “Enough.”

I’m breathless. Desperate. Wet and annoyed. “Enough?”

“Show me yours, I’ll show you mine, remember?” Liam raises his eyebrows, giving me a meaningful look. “Start talking, little flame.”

My attempt to bring Liam’s mouth to mine again fails.

“It feels wrong.” It actually feels worse than wrong.

It feels awful to tell my story now. His deserves room. Space. Not to be crowded by mine.

“What does?”

“We’re not comparing sizes.”

When I tug on Liam’s hair this time, he grabs my wrist. Flips me on my back. In less than a second, he has both my wrists in his grip, up and over my head.

I’m locked.

“What the actual fuck, Liam?”

“You’re going back on your word. I can’t have that. Can’t let you be a brat. Talk.”

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