by A. J. Macey
She shook her head. “No, I'm just going to dish up some whipped cream and we should be good. If you want, you can take all the food to the table.” Her words went up at the end to sound more like a question.
“I can certainly do that,” I murmured. Rounding up the various plates and dishes, we settled in, not talking right away and digging in. The meal was delicious. The fruit was fresh and the pancakes were perfectly golden brown. It was hard not to shovel everything in with how good it tasted.
As we ate, I couldn't help but watch her. She was scrolling through her phone and absentmindedly nibbling on a piece of fruit. The juice from the strawberry dribbling over her lip and on her chin caught my eye.
There was so much I wanted to do with her now that she was here and we were no longer bickering all day every day, but I also wanted to know more about her. Who she was, why she was here in New Zealand, what she was studying. She had burst into my world one day and we were quickly moving past me helping her with a problem. I was growing attached, knowing I shouldn't, but I felt like I barely knew anything about her.
“You're staring,” she pointed out, even though she hadn't looked at me.
“It's hard not to when you're looking like that,” I echoed her own words. She finally glanced over at me and smiled brightly.
“Is there a reason you're staring?”
I put my fork down, the clink of the silverware against the plate loud in the soft silence of the room.
“I want to know more about you.” Leaning forward, I hoped that she would be willing to extend that courtesy. It wasn’t only because I wanted to know who she was because, though I knew there could have been information in what she did, where she'd gone, or people she associated with that could be useful to figuring out more about the Phantoms, I didn't want to worry her so I didn’t reveal that part of the reason for asking. She'd been through enough in the last week.
“Well, what do you want to know?”
“Why did you come here? I know you tried to play me off as your tutor, so I'm going to go on a limb and say student.” She nodded, licking a dollop of whipped cream off her fork. I had to grind my teeth at the sight, this wasn’t the time to throw her on top of the table and eat her for dessert. Yet.
“Yep.”
“And so, what? Are you studying here over at Auckland University?”
“Almost done actually. I decided to come over for my senior year.”
“What do you plan on doing after that?” I continued to pepper her with questions.
“Well, if everything works out, which I'm not sure if it will,” she muttered ruefully, her kissable lips falling into a pout, “I wanted to work for that company that I had interviewed at when you found me that day. It’s a marketing firm and I was hoping to work on one of the design teams.”
“Does that mean you're, what, early twenties?”
“Twenty-two, almost twenty-three. I took a semester off between graduating high school and starting college to save up some money to be able to come abroad because I knew that was something I wanted to do when I started.”
“Any particular reason you picked Auckland?” Each question she answered only created more questions that I wanted to know the answers to. She wasn’t just a beautiful woman, she was driven and motivated, smart, and above all else… mine, my mind whispered.
She shrugged, the movement making me focus on our conversation. “Honestly? I just kind of picked on a whim. There are a few different places I wanted to go, but I don't know, this one stood out to me.”
I paused, debating if I wanted to ask what I was going to ask, worried that I wouldn't like the answer. Why are you getting attached? I scolded myself. She shouldn't be with someone like you. But I shoved the thought away.
“Are you planning on staying?”
“Staying…?” she repeated, trailing off in confusion.
“Here in New Zealand, once you graduate.”
“Oh, if I get this job, I certainly hope so,” she told me excitedly. “My student visa is ending at the end of my school year. But I think I'm just waiting to hear if I got the job or not and then I should be able to start the process of getting my visa transferred over.”
A breath of relief I didn't know I had bottled up, leached out of me and I nodded, tension draining from my shoulders. She wasn't in the clear yet when it came to the Phantoms, but if we got this situation cleared, at least now I knew I hopefully had some time with her.
Who says she's even going to stay with you? my mind hissed, angry that I was actually considering something like this. A relationship with her was reckless and idiotic—something my brothers and father had repeatedly told me over the last few days—but I'd always been dumb and reckless, and this was no different. Thankfully though they’d ceased their incessant questioning every time I called for an update since I left her at the compound the other day, but I knew they were still hesitant and ready for this whole situation to be over so she’d go on her way.
Not that I’d told them I wanted otherwise.
“What about you?” she prompted. “Tell me a little bit about Liam King.” She pushed her plate away and leaned back into her chair to get comfortable, pulling up one leg and wrapping her arms around her knee. Her dark green gaze seemed to see right through me as she looked at me. One that could bring me to my knees if I got any deeper into this... whatever it was with her.
“Not much to tell.”
She scoffed. “Yeah, right. You're the son of an infamous mob boss and I'm pretty sure that right there makes you the definition of interesting.” I grinned at her view on who I was, who my family was.
“All right, then. I was born here, and my mom died when I was young. Dad had been boss of the Auckland Kings for years, way before I was born, hell I think way before my brothers were born. It’s always been passed down from father to son and so on and so forth. That's about it,” I told her. “I went to school, graduated just to keep the law enforcement from looking into us for me dropping out. Since then, it's always been about the Kings.”
“Sounds lonely,” she murmured.
“Eh.” I shrugged after giving it a moment of thought. “I have my brothers and my father, not to mention the men and women in our crew, though to be fair, not all of them I interact with on a daily basis. We have different lieutenants who do that kind of stuff.”
“Yeah, but don't you ever want more outside of that?”
“More like what?”
“I don't know,” she said, lifting a shoulder.
“Wife, kids settling down, no longer being a criminal, that kind of more?”
“I don’t know, is that what you consider more?”
I had expected her to say yes, that that’s something a normal person would do. To get out, to live a normal life, and I had prepared myself for the anger or hurt from that kind of a response because this was who I was. This was who I was born to be, but at her nonjudgmental tone, I realized that she wasn't going to try and shove me into society's stereotypical box.
“I have no fucking clue,” I admitted. “I hadn't really thought that far ahead. Hadn’t really considered I'd get this far, to be honest. I’ve done some pretty shitty and dumb things in my life.”
“Oh, you mean like your dick tattoo?” she teased, pointing at the table as if to point at between my legs, before bursting out laughing.
“Ha, ha, Harper. Yes, very funny,” I drew out with a chuckle. Getting up from the table, I grabbed my plate and looked at her before walking off. “Any other questions?”
She opened her mouth, hesitating for a moment before closing it and shaking her head.
“No, I think that's it.” She was lying and I wanted to press her, but I knew that would probably result in us ending in an argument. “So, what's the plan for the day? More investigating?”
I shook my head. “No, now there's a few others in Auckland Kings along with some of our contacts that are doing more digging, so I don't really have anywhere I can go to question anyone. Thought we could do somet
hing else.”
“Something else like what?”
I picked up on the heat in her tone, and I smirked, wishing that that was what I had had in mind as well.
“Not quite what I had in mind,” I told her, making her pout again. “But maybe after.”
She perked up.
“Do you know how to fight?” I redirected, and her cheery grin turned into a cringe at the change of conversation.
“I don’t, no. I can shoot, and I know how to throw a punch, but actual fighting? No real training or practice.”
“Guns aren't that normal here,” I explained. “I mean, we have them, but there's not a quicker way to get the cops on your back than to shoot someone. It's mostly hand to hand here.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
“I would like to teach you how to fight.”
“Really?”
I nodded, waiting for her to say no and reason that ‘I wouldn't need that in the future,’ but she surprised me and nodded.
“Yeah, that's probably a smart idea, seeing as how I'm clearly a beacon for trouble.”
I laughed and stepped over to her, leaning down to kiss her. “That you are, Harper,” I murmured against her lips. “That you are.”
11
Harper
Everything was sore from hand to hand combat training even two days later. Thankfully, though, I had started to feel a bit better after a bout of stretching earlier that morning so now I was nose deep in a book curled on the couch when Liam came striding in confidently.
“I've got some intel coming in,” he announced, pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys. “Going to go meet up with my contact and get the details, see if what was found has anything else I need to follow up with.”
I perked up, happy that he had finally gotten some kind of information. It was exciting, and yet at the same time, I felt a heavy weight of lead form in my stomach. It was easy to pretend that no one was after me, that I was just a lucky girl spending time in a hot guy's house for vacation. But when he brought up stuff like that, that illusion I had created to stay calm came crashing down.
“Okay, let me know when you're coming back?” I asked, hoping to not sound too needy. He nodded, coming over instead of heading out the door.
“Stay here,” he commanded. “Don't go running down the street and get snatched up by my brother. Or worse,” he teased, leaning down. Bracing one hand on the arm of the couch next to me, he captured my jaw with the other. “Don't answer the door, just get comfortable and hang out. I'll let you know when I'm coming back, okay?”
His tone was soft, but the hint of steel in his voice to take his command seriously wasn't lost on me. I nodded as best I could with him holding my jaw. He chuckled at my attempts, tilting my face up slightly and pressing a kiss against my lips.
“I don't want to have to hunt that sexy ass down and give you a spanking for disobeying me.”
I narrowed my gaze but couldn't stop the smirk from curling my lip. “Spanking? Yes. Disciplining me like I'm a child? No.”
He laughed, but agreed with a whispered, “Yes, ma’am.”
Giving me one final kiss, he stood and made his way to the front door. Before leaving, I heard him shout, “Stay in the house!”
The sound of it closing and locking followed, echoing amongst the two-story entryway. I rolled my eyes and settled in. But once he was gone and the silence permeated the space, I felt myself too on edge to keep relaxing and reading my story.
Using a receipt I had found, I bookmarked my spot and set it on the table before hopping up. I paced around in a poor attempt at trying to figure out what I could do to pass the time. Watching TV or listening to music—while sounding appealing—weren’t the best options because I didn't think I could sit still long enough to actually enjoy either of them. Sighing, I dug out my phone and pulled up the Web browser that I had used the last time he was gone and continued to scan through the various news articles and information they had dug up on the Phantoms and the Auckland Kings.
I’d learned a lot, though I was sure it was only the surface of what actually happened between the two gangs and what they’d done over the years. I should run the other direction, I told myself, sighing as I scanned yet another news article about the Auckland Kings and their criminal activity.
I should be terrified, should be excited to leave, and yet I wasn't. Groaning, I let my head flop into my palm in frustration. I was in too deep, too attached to Liam, despite what he and his family had done.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I murmured, rubbing my eyes. “How could I be falling for someone I barely know? Criminal, a murderer?” I exclaimed, resuming my pacing as if ranting to myself was going to solve all my problems and magically get my head on straight.
It didn't. What it did succeed in doing was help make me focus on the fact that once I was safe—if I was ever safe… No, I snapped, I'm definitely going to be safe—he would most likely just throw me to the curb. Hell, I didn't even know if he actually gave a shit about me like that. His warm gaze and kisses made me think that he did, but it was also easy to think it was just physical fun to pass the time.
“Ugh,” I groaned, shaking my head and trying to dislodge the negative train of thoughts when my phone started ringing.
“Hey, Pops,” I greeted when I saw my dad's name pop up on my phone.
“Where the hell are you, Harper Davis!” I heard my mom scold in the background. The startling sound made my eyebrows shoot up.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We got a call from Kara earlier this week saying that you had been acting weird and then just practically dropped off the face of the Earth. You haven't talked to anyone since! We’ve tried to call you multiple times and not one answer or call back. Not a one!”
My eyes closed and I rubbed my forehead in an attempt to soothe the headache that was forming. I had completely forgotten about calling Kara and not catching up later, knowing that Liam had said it would be better if I kept contact to a minimum just in case.
“Sorry,” I said with a sigh. “I'm just taking a break. You know, social media and digital detoxing,” I lied. “It's vacation. School's out of session for a couple more days so I was just trying to relax. It's been stressful waiting to hear from this job.”
It wasn't a complete and utter lie, but it was a lie all the same. The thought of lying to them made me cringe, but it was the only thing I could tell them without turning things into an international incident. I listened to my mom vent about how scared they had been, how I'd almost given her a heart attack. She did all the talking, but I knew my dad no doubt was sitting silently next to her, agreeing with everything she was saying.
“I'm sorry,” I emphasized for what seemed to be the fifth time. “I promise to check in more often. Okay?” Please let that appease them.
“We just worry about you, kiddo,” my dad finally replied after a pause. I ground my teeth knowing that if they had any idea the kind of trouble I was in, they would have hopped on a plane and flown here immediately.
What a great daughter I am, I thought ruefully.
“I know, but I'm safe. Don't worry.” This time it was a blatant lie, and my stomach turned. I’d always been close to my parents and I had never felt the need to lie to them.
“All right. Well, I'm glad to know you're okay,” my mom finally conceded, “you go back to your detoxing or whatever it is you kids do. We just wanted to make sure you were safe. Don't forget to call Kara.”
“I won’t. Here, I'll even send her a text right now while we're on the phone,” I offered, pulling my phone away from my ear and putting it on speaker to type out a quick message to relay where I'd been and what I'd been doing. A lie over texting was easier, and it was sent off in a matter of moments. “There, all sent.”
“Okay, you can go back to relaxing. Sorry for freaking out, it's just a mom thing.” She chuckled, making me smile.
“I know, Mom.” A wave of melancholy washed over me. I thou
ght about Liam and his family, about the possibility of having to walk away from him at the end of this. Now I had it thrown in my face just how far away from my family I really was.
And in that moment, I felt truly alone.
“I love you,” I called out, not wanting to hang up without saying it. They echoed it brightly before ending the call.
Alone again, in a place that wasn’t mine, with no clear picture of when this nightmare would be over…
Instead of trying to find a healthy way to process the wave of negativity, I decided to say fuck it and strode into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge. The clinking of beer bottles inside the door filled the room and I snatched one out before popping off the top and chugging. It burned slightly and the alcohol hit me fairly quickly. I had always been a lightweight, and I was hoping that having one and finding something to relax with until Liam got back would help tame the crazy thoughts.
Setting my phone down on the counter, I walked away from it, knowing that if I kept holding on to it, I'd be tempted to keep looking into him, his family, and the men after me. An endless cycle of worry and questions. You don't need that kind of negativity, Harper, I told myself confidently. It's summer and you don't have school. There's a bright, sunny day outside and a pool calling your name.
My little ridiculous pep talk actually worked and I made my way out into the backyard. Settling onto one of the pool chairs, I leaned back and soaked up the warmth from the sun, intent on relaxing.
Liam
I pulled up into the parking garage in the far corner where there were no cameras or pedestrian walkways. This was the place Inspector Carter and I always met, and I spotted his car already stationary in one of the slots. As I threw my car into park, he climbed out of his vehicle with a folder at least two inches thick clutched in his hand. I could tell, based on his harsh frown, that whatever he had found wasn't good.
“Liam,” he greeted.
“Inspector,” I echoed, stepping over to him. “I take it you found something of use?” I asked, pointing at the file in his hand. He snorted.
