by RC Boldt
With the gates now closed firmly behind us, Liam parks the car in front of the wide stairs leading up to the main entrance of the house.
Turning off the ignition, he reaches for my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “Let’s get inside. We need to get ourselves cleaned up and get something to eat.”
My stomach growls in response, and I cover it with my hand, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.
One edge of his mouth quirks up. “The faster we get everything situated, the quicker I can whip something up for us.”
“Okay.”
He hauls his bags from the vehicle, and I follow him up the steps leading to the front door, my backpack straps slung over each shoulder.
Liam accesses another keypad that unlocks the front door and leads me inside a foyer of the most palatial home I’ve ever seen.
An image of a small, humble home with simple and worn but immaculate hardwood floors flashes in my mind. My feet may be planted in the middle of Liam’s foyer, but my eyes no longer take in the expanse of his house.
Instead, I only see the one in my memory—one that’s familiar and welcoming. One with my father’s face greeting me, eyes crinkling subtly at the corners, shining with affection.
“Alex?” Liam’s voice cuts into my flashback.
I jerk my eyes to his. “Sorry.”
“Everything okay?” A hint of wariness edges into his expression. “I was just telling you that you can feel free to shower.” He gestures to the dimly lit hallway. “Second door on the left. Everything should be in place, and towels in the bathrooms. I have trusted staff who deal with that.”
I nod, tightening my grip on the backpack straps. “Sounds good. I’ll just…go get cleaned up and meet you back here?”
“Yeah.” His gaze is watchful before he drops the bags at his side and advances on me. I stand rooted to the spot until he’s toe to toe with me, hands framing my face and fusing his mouth to mine.
Liam’s touch soothes me, sinking deep within to penetrate both my heart and soul. My muscles release their tension as I relax in his hold. Knowing that he cares for me, that he feared for my life earlier and saved me, means more than any words could possibly express.
I clutch at his shirt and match his kiss with fervent intensity. His taste sends delicious shivers tiptoeing down the length of my spine.
When we finally part, he rests his forehead to mine, our breaths labored. Finally, he lets out a groan before releasing me and stepping back. The barest trace of a smile tugs at his mouth. “Go on before I slack off.”
My smirk can’t be suppressed as I edge toward the hallway. “Can’t have that.”
A swift swat to my ass surprises me, and I gape at him.
Though his expression remains calm and unreadable, his eyes dance, and it sends a thrill rushing through me that I’ve brought out this more playful side of him.
“I’ll see you in a few.” Turning, he grabs the heavy duffel bags, the tendons and muscles in his forearms flexing.
I skirt down the hall and quickly duck inside the room he directed me to. A few minutes later, I step inside the beautiful alcove shower in the en-suite bathroom.
Warm water pulses over my body, and it alerts me to the soreness that lingers from my night with Liam. The way he’d manipulated my body to get the deepest angle, whether it be for his tongue or cock, was decadent beyond measure.
Dropping my chin to my chest, I let the hot water heat the muscles in my neck. Washing away some of the residue on my skin, I watch as the tinted water races along the tiled floor to circle the drain.
Suddenly, my vision blurs, and my fingers instinctively curl into fists against the shower wall as a flashback strikes me with full force.
Blood drips down my body, gathering in a hypnotizing swirl around the drain near my feet. Sitting on the tile floor is all I can bear as I gingerly lean against the shower wall. Agonizing pain plagues my entire body, lancing so deep that it’s difficult to determine which part of me isn’t injured.
I’m nearly certain I’ve broken or have fractures in my left wrist, right elbow, left index finger, and right foot. The fact that I can’t breathe very well through my nose combined with the swelling around the bridge tells me it’s probably fucked up, too.
Though I’m riddled with debilitating pain, a deep satisfaction strums through my veins, acting as its own form of anesthesia.
As if someone has turned the valve wide open, I’m filled with a sense of achievement. I may not have gotten away without a scratch, but I certainly left my mark…and then some.
I made them pay with their lives.
I’d like to think, if he were still alive, that he’d understand my reasoning for doing this, especially considering his past.
“I did it for you.” I instantly regret my whispered words when white-hot agony sears me.
Add a possible fractured jaw to that list.
I wince and let out a sharp hiss as the hot water abrades my busted knuckles and other countless scrapes, but I can’t muster the energy to adjust the temperature just yet. Hell, I can’t fucking bring myself to move. The water will likely turn frigid before I’m able to.
Awareness breaks through my thick blanket of agony, and my eyes flash open. Someone’s here. I’m not sure how I manage it, but I drag myself upright even though fiery-hot pain accompanies the movement of every muscle.
Somehow, I’ve been found.
A large hand settles on my shoulder, and I whirl around, punching at him, but he’s too quick. He’s not riddled with injuries. One hand grasps my wrists in his hold while the other dives for the back of my head. My vision swims before me, and I know this is it.
This is the end for me.
“Alex! Look at me!”
Somehow, the urgent desperation in the man’s voice drags me back to the present.
Finally regaining my focus, I peer up at Liam’s face, his features drawn with concern. The fingers gripping my nape relax infinitesimally while his eyes remain locked on my face.
“Where’d you go on me?” he murmurs gently. “I called your name a dozen times.”
My chest heaves as though I’ve just run a marathon in record time. “I don’t know…” I shake my head, resisting the urge to weep. “I just…remembered being hurt so badly… So much pain…”
It’s only now that I realize he’s stepped inside the alcove shower with me, clad in only a pair of board shorts.
“Hey.” With a gentleness that has my heart lurching in my chest, he pulls me closer, paying no mind to my wet, naked body. “You’re safe here with me.”
His touch isn’t sensual in nature but one of comfort. I’m vulnerable and bared to him, but this man doesn’t take advantage of it—of me. He cares for me once again, offering whatever he has to give. Much like he did with the Russian bastards, Liam put his own life at risk in order to protect me.
He shot both men who were prepared to kill me without a second thought. He left behind his practice and home he made for himself to try to evade the assholes hunting me—and now us—down.
With my lips against his collarbone, my throat grows tight while a turmoil of emotions assaults me in invisible sucker punches. I murmur words so softly they nearly get swallowed by the sound of the shower.
“I’m so sorry, Liam. I swear, if I knew anything, I would’ve never gotten you involved.”
His arms tighten around me. “I believe you.” Those words are equally soft-spoken in return, yet they possess a surety in them.
He believes me—a woman who doesn’t even know her fucking last name or birth date. That undertone of certainty in his simple response serves as a healing balm all on its own.
Enveloped in his strong embrace, I bask in the comfort he offers. Voice muted, I offer up a confession.
“I hate not knowing who I am. At the same time, I’m grateful for it because otherwise, it would’ve never brought me to you.” My heart thuds so raucously in my chest I fear he’s able to hear it.
Palms splayed over the corded muscles of his back, I feel a tremor roll through his firm body. One of his hands skims over my shoulder, allowing his fingers to tangle in my hair. He tugs my head back, and I warily raise my eyes to his.
The instant our gazes lock, I’m incinerated from within. The longing in his eyes robs me of breath. His fingers tighten their grip on my hair, a muscle in his jaw flexing an instant before he fits his mouth to mine.
His kiss is filled with a carnal hunger that sends insatiable need coursing through me. He steers my back to the tile while water pulses over our bodies. Our mouths move to deepen the kiss, never risking parting for long. A desperate urgency bleeds into my veins because I can’t seem to get enough of his taste, of his kiss.
My nipples tighten into hard peaks against the hard wall of his chest. Privy to my body’s needs, he cups my breast, skimming his thumb over my firm nipple.
At my gasp against his lips, his mouth curves slightly before he trails kisses along my jawline, descending over my collarbone and to my other breast. Lips capturing one nipple, he suckles it before flicking his tongue at my sensitive flesh.
When he shifts to rest his forehead on my shoulder, his body heaves with labored breaths before he finally raises his head to meet my eyes.
Nostrils flaring, when his eyes drift over my scarred body, they stall on the evidence of the healed knife wound at my side.
“Goddammit, woman.” He traces his thumb over the scar in a featherlight caress, his voice nearly inaudible. “I hate that this is what brought you to me.”
When his eyes finally lift to mine, I nearly lose all ability to breathe because it’s as though he’s truly allowing me to see beneath his gruff exterior. His expression unguarded, I’m now given a glimpse of the man who has fears and wants, like me.
The man whose heart might just be open to loving me.
A tortured expression crosses his face. “I don’t want to think about never knowing you.” He cradles my face in his hands, bringing the tip of his nose to mine. “I can’t bear to imagine it.”
I lift, closing the distance to fuse my mouth to his, and the instant I do, it’s like tossing a match to dry tinder. Our kiss is explosive, tasting as deeply as we can.
My hands roam over the cuts and curves of his muscled body before tugging at the fastening of his board shorts. As soon as I get them loosened, frantically shoving the fabric down his hips, his hard cock juts free, prodding my stomach.
When my fingers encircle his thick shaft, he breaks our kiss with a groan that sounds as though it’s been wrenched from deep within him. Eyes gleaming with heated lust, he lifts me, and I immediately wrap my legs around his waist as he fits the broad head of his cock to my entrance.
With our eyes locked, he eases me down his thick length, little by little. My lips part on a silent gasp at the decadent way he stretches me, and his gaze turns molten.
A harsh breath rushes past his lips, his jaw working as he buries himself deep inside me. “I need you.” His guttural admission feeds my arousal while his expression morphs into an odd amalgamation of torment and bliss.
With his hands at my hips, his touch is both gentle yet firm as he thrusts inside me in smooth, languid strokes. I tip my head back against the cool tile, my fingers clutching at his biceps, and his mouth finds my neck.
He delivers tiny nips and kisses while continuing his sensual thrusts. Blanketed in such bliss, I’m unable to make sense of his muttered, barely audible words.
“Please. Don’t ever fucking leave me.”
His mouth finds mine again, but this time, his kiss is softer and less urgent, following suit with his body’s rhythm. Is this making love?
If we get out of this mess I’ve unknowingly made, I hope to experience it again.
That he won’t hate me in the end.
That if I regain my memory, I won’t end up hating myself.
Chapter 49
LIAM
My muscles twitch in protest, and I can’t blame my body one damn bit.
I wanted to stay with her afterward. To watch her towel-dry and run the brush through her long hair. To have that intimacy with her.
The more I’m around her, the harder it is, knowing how this will all likely end. There’s no guarantee I’ll get my way. In fact, the odds are stacked against me even if I want—more than fucking anything—to be with her. Every fiber in my body craves her touch, her nearness. I want to erase all her fears and make her smile.
But I’m not sure that’s possible.
Hastily, I pull on a clean pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt and quietly exit the bedroom before she finishes.
I hurry to the kitchen just as the oven timer rings. Pulling the chicken lasagna from the oven, I’m relieved that it smells decent. It had been in the freezer, and we’re skating precariously close to its expiration date.
I finish plating it for us by the time she pads into the kitchen. I nearly lose my grip on the spatula at the sight of her.
Towel-dried, her long hair falls past her shoulders. A T-shirt hangs loose on her petite frame, and her shorts fall to mid-thigh, drawing my eyes to how firm and toned they are. But that’s not what has me standing frozen in the kitchen like a goddamn statue.
It’s this moment. Her being here with me in a place that holds so many memories. I once thought I might settle down someday and have a family here.
Seeing her enter the kitchen and slide onto one of the barstools at the island counter has my mind flitting through possibilities. Of her sitting there while I make her eggs in the morning. Talking about our plans for the day. Or sitting together at the dining room table with wine in the evening.
Or her sprawled on my bed, body writhing as I eat her pussy so good she goes hoarse from screaming my name. Of her riding me in that bed, working my cock, and making me come like crazy.
“Liam?”
The sound of my name snaps me from my stray thoughts. Her gaze flicks to the gun I set on the counter as a precaution before settling on my face.
“Can I help with anything?”
I frown and quickly slide her plate in front of her. “No. All set. It won’t be the most nutritious dinner, but it’ll do for now until I can grab some groceries.”
I grab two bottles of water and set them at our spots before taking a seat beside her.
Awkwardness clings to me, and I’m not sure why I feel off-kilter. But the instant she reaches over and slides her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together, the tightness in my chest eases. She gives my hand a little squeeze, and I turn to find her regarding me with an expression that has my lungs stalling.
She offers me a tentative smile. “Thank you. For everything. I just…” She ducks her head, hair falling in a curtain before she lifts her eyes to mine again.
Her tone is muted, but her words hold a certainty and emotion that I don’t fucking deserve. “I want you to know that I care about you, Liam.”
Giving the hand holding mine a tug, I reach with my other for her nape, bringing her mouth to mine. I dust a light kiss over her lips.
“Alex, I—” Whatever I’m about to say has to wait. I grab the gun off the counter and put my body between her and the kitchen entrance.
“Don’t fucking move.” My gun remains trained on the man hovering at the threshold.
The fucker has the audacity to run his mouth like he doesn’t know I can put a dozen holes in his goddamn body in mere seconds. “Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”
Chapter 50
ALEXANDRA
Every muscle in my body is taut, and I will myself not to shake in fear. I need a level head if they’ve sent someone else to track us here.
Oh, God. Is this how my life will always be? Running from people for a reason I don’t even understand?
In a slow, easy drawl, the man counters with, “Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“An old friend doesn’t show up out of the blue after this long.” Steel underlines Liam’s voice.
When the man grins at me, his features morph from incredibly handsome to show-stopping. He could easily pass for a model, his features perfect and body muscled in all the right places. “I’m Ghost. Nice to meet you.”
“You’re gonna be a ghost if you don’t stop moving and explain how you got in here.”
Ghost rolls his eyes, mouth still curved in a friendly smile. “Dude, you know I can’t tell you all my secrets.”
Then he sobers, eyeing Liam from head to toe. “I thought I’d find you looking like shit, but…” He cocks his head, gaze flitting between Liam and me. “Guess what they say about finding love is true, huh?”
“Why should I trust you?” Liam grinds out the words from between clenched teeth. He still hasn’t moved an inch.
Ghost blows out a long breath. “Dude. There’s a price on your heads. I figured you’d hole up here and brainstorm. Also figured you could use any extra help you can get.” A lengthy pause hangs in the air. He tips his head in the direction of the foyer. “Also got you better food than that shit.”
“That so?” Liam’s voice is monotone, not giving an inch.
“Yeah.” The man grins. “Albondigas from that place down the road.”
I peer past him and see two large plastic bags on the floor.
“You make one wrong move, and I’ll kill you, got it?” The chill in Liam’s voice sends a shiver through me.
“Got it.” Ghost shakes his head. “Geez, man. Come on. We cool or what? I’m starving.”
A beat of silence passes before Liam slowly lowers his gun. “Get your ass in here.”
Ghost’s grin is impossibly wide, excitement lighting up his face. He grabs the bags and ambles inside the kitchen. “Dining room?”
