Page 17 of Ward Willing
Even now, after living with him for over a year, I’m still not sure what to make of our relationship, and the way he still tells me what to do. It’s unnerving, but it’s also incredibly attractive. It’s like he knows me better than I know myself sometimes.
Catalina was the only time I ever saw him break formation. The only time I really seemed to get inside of his mind and wiggle my way under his skin. And the crazy thing is, I want to push him that far again.
I want to poke the beast.
It’s why I do things like save his food money and get tattoos and spend a fortune on nice lingerie.
Because a small part of me wants to see Liam Ravageunravelagain.
CHAPTERTWO
THE LOATHING
Liam
The slamming of a car door outside snaps me out of my writing trance. Captain Sushi’s head perks up, and I see him yawn in my peripheral as I lower my gold pen that’s engraved with anR—a nod to my last name and family history.
I figured if I could write all of my books with a pen bearing the Ravage name, maybe something good can finally come out of this family.
Well, that’sifI can ever write something again.
Irritation trickles through me when I lean over to glance out of the window and see the familiar, rusty Chevy parked in front of the house. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s nearly midnight. I haven’t seen Zoe since class yesterday, despite waiting to drive her home—to no avail because she didn’t show up and didn’t answer my texts. I only know she’s been with Scotty this whole time because I’d turned her location services on when I became her guardian, and never bothered turning them off when she turned eighteen.
I wish she’d let me drive her home instead of relying on her pea-brained boyfriend.
She hasn’t had time to get her driver’s license, so she isn’t allowed to drive the brand new Subaru I bought her last year, despite my nagging to get it done. And because my house is a twenty-minute drive through the woods behind Crestwood, it’s a pain in the ass to get to. Hence… the boyfriend with a car.
I suppose it’s better than a taxi. I’d rather not have some strange man driving her around.
But it doesn’t change the fact that IloatheScotty. His jeans are too tight, his hair is too shiny, and he’s too fucking old for her.
I’m not a violent man, but whenever he touches her, I’m two seconds away from tearing his arm out of its socket.
I rub my eyes before flicking them back to the window. Zoe and Scotty are lit up by the motion-sensor light I had installed when she moved in. Zoe is leaning against the passenger side, her backpack in one hand. Scotty is towering over her, his long, blond hair obscuring his face. He places a hand on her cheek, and she leans into the touch.
Yeah, it’s decided. I really fucking hate the guy.
Just as I’m about to tear my eyes away, Zoe tilts her chin up as Scotty’s hand slides past her ear to the back of her neck and pulls her to his lips.
The kiss is sloppy, and he hasn’t offered to take the heavy backpack from her, so she’s awkwardly leaning to one side.
She hasn’t touched him with her free hand. In fact, when I squint and concentrate hard enough, I see her fist balling at her side uncomfortably.
Enough.
I stand up so abruptly that my chair rolls violently into the wall behind me, and I’m downstairs and opening the front door—loudly—in a matter of seconds.
Captain Sushi, my large Serval cat, is on my heels.
The lovebirds are done making out and walking toward the door by the time I have them in my sights. As my eyes lock on Zoe’s fingers laced with Scotty’s, the rage continues simmering.
No, it boils over.
Because the motherfucker is coming inside.
“Hey, Mr. R,” Scotty says, giving me a lopsided grin and using the nickname I hate.
I don’t smile, and I certainly don’t deign him with a response. Meanwhile, Captain Sushi hisses at Scotty.
