Page 58 of Torched

“Forced,” I correct her. “We areforcedto work with you. There is nothing willing about it. Willing would be throwing you off a cliff at shark alley.”

Cristina’s dark brown eyes find mine, laced with disappointment, as I take another bite of my eggs. Maybe there is even a bit of hurt. “You loved me once. You could do it again, Liam.”

Yeah, definitely hurt. Fake as fuck, but still. You have to admire her skills.

I tsk. “Don’t get your panties twisted, sweetheart. Liked you? Sure. Caught by your voodoo shit? Definitely. Love you? Not a chance in hell.”

“What about all the times you bought me flowers? Or the times you rubbed my feet after a long day? Or tried to comfort me when I was having a hard time?”

“Errors in judgment.” I take the last bite off my plate, shoving it forward before sending Gen a wide smile. It’s recuperated with a knowing one from her side, a sprinkle of laughter in her baby blues. They act like a beacon of light, as the only thing I need to convince myself of what love really is, because she’s the epitome of the word. Imogen shows me what unconditional love feels like every single day.

“Call it what you want, but you cared for me, Liam.” Cristina wraps her arms around her body, giving me a challenging expression, and I hold her gaze.

“I did,” I confess with a shrug. “I did care for you, but only because I put you on a pedestal when you dangled my pipe dream right in front of my face. One that you never actually wanted yourself. I didn’t want to see who you really are, didn’t want to open my eyes to the darkness, because I wanted to believe there was more out there.”

“There is more out there!” she cries.

“I know.” I turn my head toward Gen, my smile expanding with love. “Because I’m going to make her my wife one day.”

“She is nothing!” Cristina snarls, slamming her fist on the table. Fire is coming from her eyes, her painted lips twisted in a sneer. I expect Imogen to snap from Cristina’s dig. But no. I watch proudly as Imogen just chuckles, resting her back against the chair with a sweet expression. She pities her; I can see it in her eyes.

“You shouldn’t mess with love like that, Cris,” Gen starts. “Throwing the word around like it’s nothing. Because one day, you’ll meet that one person who can make your skin crawl in the best way. That person who will ignite a deep fire inside of you, one you’re unable to put out when they are in the room. With kisses and touches that will make your toes curl. But the path of destruction will still be there, and it will bite you in the ass before you can believe you’re worthy of that love.”

Cristina scoffs at the same time my phone starts to ring. “Right, and fairies are a real thing.”

“Mark my words,Crissy,” Gen taunts. “One day you’ll meet someone and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

I see something change in Cristina’s eyes as she uncomfortably shifts in her seat, her thoughts appearing to take her away.

“Talk to me, brother,” I say, answering my phone. “Did you find it?”

I deliberately leave out the word Babushka, not wanting to let Cristina know that we are trying to locate her behind her back.

“Not the one you want me to have found,” Kane begins. “But Callie has an idea where we can find the diamond.”

“That’s good news. So where are we going?”

“South Reef Bay. Leave now, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me with Jeremy before you leave.”

He hangs up the phone, and I volley a look between the two women in front of me.

“Time for a field trip, ladies. We’re going to South Reef Bay.”

19

CRISTINA

TWO YEARS AGO

Ilookupfromthe suitcase on the bed when the doorbell rings, a deep frown cutting my features. I’m not expecting Liam until he picks me up tomorrow.

Curious, but also suspicious, I grab my gun from the nightstand as I quietly tap my heel toward the door and look through the peephole. I clutch onto the firearm, my stomach churning when I don’t see anyone on the other side. Pressing my ear against the cold wood, I listen for any movement, but when I can’t hear anything, I hesitantly open the door a few inches.

The left side of the hall seems empty, and I feel confident enough to open the rest of the door to check the other side.

Stupid Cristina.

Before I can peek my head out, a body slams against mine, a rough hand around my neck. I bring up the gun to shoot, but he’s quicker, slamming it out of my hand while he pushes us back into the door, then slams it shut with a loud thud. I gasp for air as I try to process what’s happening, but it isn’t until my back is pressed against the front door, my entire space crowded by the man that’s covering my chest, that I can see the eyes that have visited me in my dreams. Those dark irises that can’t decide if they want to be brown or green, a slight sliver of gold moving in waves as his eyes dilate.

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