Page 47 of Torched

“Yes.” His honesty surprises me, and I narrow my eyes at him. Is he hitting on me? Is he really some stalker with an obsession for me?

“Why?” I swallow.

“Because he has no clue what you want.” A strand of my hair ends up between his fingers as he plays with it. “He has no clue what youneed.” His words shiver down my spine. “But then again, that’s not really his fault, since you’re not really showing who you really are, are you? You’re just selling him the version that he wants to see. The woman that wants a loving family and a stable life in New Jersey. Tell me, babe. Do you really want to have kids?”

“Fuck no.” I realize my mistake even before both words have left my lips, my eyes widening a bit. What the fuck is wrong with me? I have no issues holding up my act when it comes to Liam Carrillo, but this stranger asks the right questions and gets answers from me that I’m not supposed to give. Answers that are none of his business. Yet I share them with him like he’s part of my inner circle.

He seems pleased with that answer. “He’s boring you, isn’t he?”

I fill my lungs with air, taking a moment before I make the same mistake and answer with the truth instead of the answer he deserves. “That’s none of your business.”

“True. But I’m just interested.”

My mind has a hard time keeping up, but I stay calm, holding his gaze, waiting a few seconds before I roll my eyes. “I’m getting bored of this game. Just tell me what you want?”

He abruptly grabs my hip, tucking me against his chest as his lips find their way to my ear. The move has my heart pounding like it wants to jump out of my chest, and I freeze under his touch. My insides are burning like lava.

“Liar,” he whispers. “You love this game.”

This man sees right through me, and I don’t even know who he is.

“But okay”—he lets go of me, a stern expression on his rugged face this time—“you want to skip the pleasantries? Fine. I want Junior.”

I chuckle. “Good look with that, but you’ll never find him.”

“Yeah, I will, babe. Because at some point, you’ll have to meet up with him, and I’ll be waiting for the moment. I found you, haven’t I? I will find him too.” He takes a smug step back, a little swagger in his move. “Just think about it. You don’t need Junior Reyes, and you know it.”

“I will never betray Junior.” Though he is right. I don’t need Junior, Junior needs me.

“It’s not betraying him if he’s dead, right?” He’s about two yards away and still growing the distance with every step.

“Why do you want him dead?”

“I don’t. I want him alive until I’ve collected my money for him.” He shrugs. “After that? I don’t give a damn what happens to him. Have a good night, Cristina.” He spins on his heel, turning his back to me as he saunters down the pavement, leaving me confused on the streets once more.

“Who are you?” I finally manage to call out to his back.

But he just gives me a smirk from over his shoulder, ignoring me while I watch him disappear around the corner.

I need to find out who the fuck he is.

13

LIAM

PRESENT DAY

“Can’tsleep?”Myattentionsnaps to the double doors, the sultry voice of the woman I hate welcoming me like an ice bucket on a winter’s day. With a silent sigh, I turn my focus back to my glass, not giving her a second glance.

The soft breeze of the night ruffles my hair a tad as I take another sip, letting the amber liquid brush my tongue. I savor its taste like it’s the most magnificent thing in the world while I do my best to ignore the rigidness that’s traveling into my muscles.

I’m trying to not let Cristina get to me. To not even give her the satisfaction of me hating her, implying that I care by giving her more of an emotion than indifference. But the fact that she’s strolling around our yacht, taunting Gen like she’s one of her personal toys–well, it makes it hard to stay calm and collected about it all.

“You’re going to ignore me now?” I can see her smirk from the corner of my eye, her long legs moving closer with every step until she places herself on the stretcher beside me. Her gaze burns into mine as I keep staring into my glass, her knees facing my side to make it perfectly clear her attention is fixated on me and nothing else.

“Should’ve done that years ago.”

“Maybe,” she opts. “But then we wouldn’t have the good times either.”

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