Page 38 of Debt of My Soul

He returns the sentiment with a sluggish grunt of his own. It’s unnerving and my breath hitches when his glare pins me in place.

“Thanks, Liam,” River says. She tilts her head to the rows of tents we have yet to look at. “Let’s go, Fleur. I see Mrs. Nell, and I need to tell her about the antique set we just got at the shop.”

She marches back off the way she came, her hands swiping under her eyes.

Liam holds my stare for a beat before I turn, ready to dart behind her and finish my shopping.

Deft fingers wrap around my wrist with a tingle that seers along my skin, and I shiver. I search for the source, down to where a large hand circles my arm.

Liam’s teeth grit together. Clenched so hard I can hear them grinding among the market’s chatter. I pull hard, but he doesn’t let go.

“What …” I rasp, my mouth suddenly dry and unable to form words.

“You need to stop.” Liam growls at me. Growls.

“Stop what?” My cheeks are red. I just know it by the way my face feels like it’s burning.

His fingers move briefly over the two rubber bands nestled on my wrist. His gaze goes from them to me, and his jaw twitches. “Just stop. You know nothing about us. Comments and snide remarks will get you killed.”

I flinch at his words because he’s right. I’m not being smart. My heart picks up speed and I swallow, and he tracks the gulp.

I can’t stand it, though. The look of longing in River’s eyes as she talks about her lost brother. Except that’s the thing. He isn’t lost. He lives here. He’s alive. Choosing to live a life buried in Jackpot and working for a man seemingly untouchable. It’s not fair, and it makes me angry.

I pull at my wrist again, whimpering when he still doesn’t release me. Quick, shallow breaths make it feel like I can’t breathe.Are my toes numb?

“Okay,” I say, tugging once again, and he finally lets me go. I take a few steps back as soon as I’m released, my eyes glued to his. I rub at my wrist where his fingers set fire to my skin. The pads of my fingers trail over the rubber bands there, and I twirl them between the tips.

Liam lowers his head to one side, studying me. Feeling the summer Mississippi heat, I reach back and flick my hair over my shoulder, letting the cool breeze caress my neck where drips of sweat make their way down my back.

“Where’s Adam?”

My lips part, taken aback by his question. Although, I made no move to leave when he let me go. Maybe he thought I wanted to talk, which I don’t.

“Working,” I snap, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “What are you doing here? I didn’t realize motorcycle gangs frequented farmer’s markets.”

“We aren’t—” He pauses, suppressing another growl. “Picking up supplies for home.”

“And where’s that exactly?”

He gives me a look like he can’t believe I’d asked that question. Because … well, because he most definitely wasn’t going to tell me. I flash him a smirk in return, but it fades just asfast when I remember what he told me about snide comments. I’m guessing annoyed facial expressions count?

“Hey, Fleur.” River runs up to me, panting. “Mrs. Nell is going to come look at the bedroom set at the shop. Do you want to come? Or if you’re not finished, I can swing back by and take you home.”

“Oh, um, yeah, swing back by. I still have a few more tents to check out. Take your time. I’ll be fine.” I offer her a sweet smile and she turns to Liam, her gaze volleying between us before turning on her heel.

Liam steps backward, eyes lingering on what appears to be my nose, then he takes another step back. And another. Each one with his concentration still on me. I squirm under his stare, my heart stammering. But I raise my chin, turning to the several rows of tents I didn’t get to check out yet.

Walk away, Fleur. Do it.

I have to give myself a pep talk. I’m not sure why I want to linger. To observe him in this awkward element. My body resists leaving even though my head is complaining that I move.

At first, it’s a shuffle, but then, as my feet get farther away, it practically becomes a run. I sprint to the tent I left off at and don’t look back.

River dropped me back off at home about an hour ago, and I managed to shove the excessive amount of produce I bought into my fridge before pulling out a frozen burrito. I know—the irony isn’t lost on me. Honestly, though, I was drained. Not only fromthe beating sun that could cook chicken wings on the sidewalk but emotionally.

To go from a solid feel-good morning with a friend, to unease prickling my senses and churning my gut with my interaction with Liam. Unfortunately, that still didn’t stop me from getting mouthy.

What is it about him? He makes my skin crawl, but I’m not sure it’s in the icky wrong way. I shake my head, intent on running a bath and enjoying the basket of fresh oranges I bought.

---