Survival & Revenge (Boston Latte Book 3)

by Fiona Keane

  The cement chilled my tender cheek as I lay against my right side, bound to the chair, having lost all sense of time and dignity.

  Chapter Six

  I lost hold of reality, coming in and out of confusion. I hadn’t the option to fight, and the will to devise a plan threatened to depart each time I closed my eyes.

  A pressure against my back pulled me from lifeless limbo, but I kept still. Fingertips slowly circled my back, too light and trepid to be Julian, but I felt it. The movement stopped moments before a palm opened around my bound hands. I barely felt it, but I knew it wasn’t Julian’s hand. He would have torn off the sack after killing everyone in his path. It’s not Julian. The tears returned as reality weighed upon my heart, taking a piece of me as it shattered with each passing second.

  “Bird,” Liam whispered above my ear, his voice barely a breath. “Move your hand if you can hear me.”

  Liam. My pulse spiked, full of relief and fear, doubtful of what to do, how to feel. I tried to wiggle my fingers, not sure if they were moving against his palm because they’d drained of blood hours prior.

  “Good girl.”

  My heart pounded in my throat, at war with my body. He didn’t say anything else for the longest time, and I didn’t know what to do. I felt him there, the sporadic touch of his fingers against my palm. I hoped it was reassurance, a reminder he was there, he was coming. Maybe it’s his way of keeping me awake, keeping me conscious.

  “There’s going to be someone who comes in here,” Liam whispered once more, “and they’re going to take you. They’ll leave the hood over your eyes, but they’re not going to kill you.” I appreciated his honesty, terrified or not.

  “Touch me again if you heard me, bird, if you understand.” I did as ordered, responding to Liam’s palm grazing the tips of my fingers. His skin brought me back, kept me alive. It was silent again, but the void filled with approaching footsteps. I tried to discern how many, but everything was different behind the barricade of fabric.

  “Your fairytale. It’s real. Remember that, bird,” Liam whispered against my head, the last words he spoke to me before the footsteps interfered with his code. I listened to the muffled grunts of two separate voices, only able to decipher Liam’s from the group as its warm rumble was all I could hold on to, all my mind could comprehend.

  He was honest. A pair of hands rammed into my armpits as another pair held my feet while they lifted me from the ground. The chair is gone. Liam. I was tossed up twice while the pair struggled to hold me, their sweaty hands unable to hold my restraints. A searing pain shot through my legs when my feet fell to the floor. Why isn’t Liam saying anything? Where is he? Where is Julian? Breathe. You’ll get out of here. Play their game.

  I tried not to resist, as Liam instructed, but my body was separate from my mind in that moment, and I squirmed uncomfortably as hands scoured up my calves, fingers pressed into my thighs, and palms rested around my bottom. A stranger’s hands sent a shiver through me, and I wanted to spin around and gouge out their eyes, but I couldn’t see, couldn’t move my hands, or even stand up.

  I heard Liam’s laughter, the snickering sound of his arrogant tone, entertained by the scene. “I’m not sure her boyfriend would appreciate you touching that.”

  “He’s not the boss,” one man grunted beneath me, his fingers continuing to prod around the curve of my backside. Liam’s throat cleared, but the man continued to cement my desire to murder him as soon as I was free.

  “Eh,” Liam replied, his voice unusually calm. “That’s subjective. Do you see anyone else in here with us right now?”

  “No,” the two men replied in unison, their voices filling my ears with sickness. If Julian knew their hands were on me, their lives would have ended an hour ago. Julian.

  “Precisely,” Liam roared, “because I am the one in charge right now. Get your damn hands off of my property and get her upstairs.” Property? His?

  “Don’t fight it,” Liam called from behind, his voice elsewhere in the room as I was lifted over the shoulder of one man, unable to defend myself. “It’s not going to hurt forever, and be sure I’ll fix you up really well later.”

  I felt the laughter resonating around the room, Liam’s deviant thoughts powerful in their threat to fix whatever damage done by these men. I wasn’t sure of his truth in that moment. His reminder of power and intimidation was natural and honest from his mouth, too realistic. I shivered, remembering his threat before Julian and I left of being unable to trust anyone. Including him? But he just…the fairytale…

  The man holding me over his shoulder pressed a forearm into the back of my thighs, causing me to jerk around in his disgusting hold.

  “Don’t fight it,” Liam warned me. “These bastards won’t be as good to you as I will.”

  The world crumbled beneath me as a stranger held me upside down while he carried me up a long flight of stairs. I was dizzy, moments from throwing up on myself inside the confines of the sack they used to cover my face. The tears dried. They were long gone—there was nothing left. Just time. Without Julian. I wanted to ask Liam, to plead for a moment alone with him just to know…

  I was slammed to the floor, the hard cement a painful barrier against my shoulder and hip as I dropped from the man’s hold. The throbbing pain inside my head exacerbated while I bounced between the wall and floor twice. I couldn’t hold myself, comfort myself, nothing. My ankles were tight, my wrists bound, and I wanted to die. A piercing pain seared through my core, rippling into my legs and arms as feet collided with my stomach. I screamed; I couldn’t help it. I was betraying Liam, Julian, and myself by letting a sound escape my throat, but it fell so naturally in the fear consuming me that I couldn’t help but drown.

  ***

  Rough fabric scratched my cheek. Filth swirled into my senses. I waited. The fabric scratched once more, that time along my jaw and neck. The pungent vapors of isopropyl alcohol invaded my nostrils, snapping me awake. Awake. I could see, and he was watching me.

  “You blacked out,” Liam mumbled, his eyes avoiding mine once I came to, while fidgeting with the burlap sack. “I cleaned you up as best I could. They, um…you’re going to hurt in a while, bird. The bruises, they’re going to sting.”

  I squirmed away as Liam’s hands reached for me, the thought of him touching me violating my heart. He eyed me with hesitance; I recognized it in his blue eyes because his brother had the same expression. Julian.

  “I’m just going to untie you, bird. You’ll feel my fingers behind you while I do that. Nothing more.” It hurt my eyes to see Liam there, his demeanor and voice warm. It stung, burned, like he promised my body would feel soon. Why? What did they do to me?

  A dry burn stirred in my throat, keeping my voice muffled, but I didn’t want to speak to Liam. He let them take me. His skin was warm, but the tickle of his fingers against my wrists while loosening the restraints didn’t fill me with goosebumps or reprieve; it riddled me with guilt and embarrassment. I was eager to pull my arms away from him when the final knot unwound, jerking myself forward from the chair. The chair? My gaze was everywhere—my free limbs, the floor, my seat, my soiled clothes, bruises, the stream of light slipping through a broken window, and Liam’s shoes.

  Turning my trembling forearms over in my lap, I quietly studied the cuts and dark reminders of captivity. It was my head that hurt the most, rattled by the last thing I remember—falling onto the floor.

  “How did I get back in a chair?” I didn’t recognize my voice. It was raspy, low, an altogether depressing stranger now occupying my insides.

  “The mind has an incredible way of forgetting things it feels your heart cannot fathom. But it can also be easily manipulated.” Liam crept to the window while he spoke, distancing himself from me. I let my gaze drift to him, observing him toss my restraints through the hole in the broken window and stare at the shattered panel before continuing. “You don’t remember what they did to you upstairs because you blacked out and, frankly, bird, it’s
better that way. And because of that, I have the power to make you imagine whatever I suggest because you have no alternative. You’re bruised, bleeding, and they’ve more or less left you to rot.”

  “Every fairytale has a villain, Liam.”

  He turned to face me, a small smirk lifting his lips. “I stopped them before they could hurt your soul any further, bird. That’s the truth. Your wounds are on the outside, skin and blood. Nothing more.”

  Liam was always one word away from a riddle, but the tears that flowed from my swollen eyes were all the gratitude I could muster. I couldn’t imagine the hierarchy keeping Julian away and stopping Liam from ending the lives of everyone in that room, I didn’t even know why Liam was so disrespectful when I last saw him, but I understood in that moment there could have been more done to the most sacred part of my soul and Liam Molloy prevented it. At what cost? Maybe it was nothing. Maybe that was his part of this game.

  “Before,” I started to ask, pausing to catch a breath, “when you called me your property—”

  He turned to me, shaking his head with an expression of unyielding determination. I’d seen it before, his brother conveyed that exactly. “Let them believe it, bird. Let me be your villain right now.”

  “Are you?”

  “You played with Julian,” he whispered, turning to listen elsewhere. “Now play with me.”

  “Where is he, Liam?” My throat tightened out of my control, drying and taking my voice away before Liam placed a finger against my lips, his head shaking quickly in response.

  Footsteps bombarded the floor, announcing the entrance of three men. I recognized two voices, resentful of their presence—Jack, Malcolm, and a muscular man wearing a suit.

  “Who let her loose?” The man panicked, running to where I sat, almost tipping my chair back as he searched for the restraints.

  “I just got here.” Liam’s hands were stuffed into his pockets and the tail of his suitcoat flipped over his hip, revealing the shining handle of his gun. Just like Julian. From behind, I swore it was him. Liam moved with the same purposeful steps, not wasting a breath or muscle on the men who weren’t privilege to his company. “I was wondering the same thing. And yet, she didn’t move. You boys did some damage up there. Scared the bird just right. So which one of you imbeciles cut her ropes?”

  Liam moved to stand in front of me. He wasn’t blocking my view; he was blocking their view. They didn’t deserve to revel in their damage, to catch a glimpse of me. Liam’s watch reflected the small stream of light from the window, catching my gaze and taking me back to moments prior when he tossed the restraints out of the window. The watch also took my heart elsewhere, remembering our lunch date before Elliott found me on the street, when Liam told me the watch was from Julian. A gift.

  “Who did it?” Malcolm demanded, his voice no longer threatening me. I was safe. Liam was there to protect me. And he looks so much like Julian. He’s here. He came. I closed my eyes tightly, aware of the delusion that threatened my sanity. Liam took one step to the right, turning slightly with his bottom lip pierced between his teeth to prevent the grin I recognized from staring at his brother’s expressions. It was beautiful, it was lethal.

  “Him.” I lifted my finger, pointing it at the one whose death I cared least about, knowing it would happen eventually. I was saving my courage for whoever was responsible for everything. All of it. Me, my mind, this…

  “Him?” Liam questioned, following the direction of my shaking hand as it waved toward Jack. They mumbled to one another, but I didn’t listen and I didn’t watch. I couldn’t look at any of them when I saw Liam’s hand move. The tail of his suitcoat lifted over his hip, revealing the rear pocket of his pants and the gun strapped into his waistband. His right hand raised to shield my view as I covered my eyes. His palm was warm as it anchored me in the brief moment it took his left hand to pull the trigger and kill my neighbor. The sound stung my ears, a loud pop that now took away any sound but Liam’s voice. With the barrel still steaming, Liam let go of me and turned back to the men.

  “We’re done here.” Liam’s announcement fell eloquently from his lips moments before he placed the gun back against his body.

  I blinked repeatedly, clearing the remnants of the explosion in my head, anchoring my vision to Liam while he argued with the men. His hands pressed into his hips, his arms crossed, neck stretched—he was irritated. No matter how frustrated, the men wouldn’t observe that as I could. I was accustomed to interpreting the silent language of Julian and Liam; each squint or lick of the mouth meant something. Julian. He looks so much like Julian. I blinked again, tighter than before, willing it to be him when my eyes opened once more. It was—the suit into which his defined figure was poured, the cropped brown waves, broad shoulders that carried my world, and the height of intimidation. It has to be Julian. I was dizzy, the sound of the bullet’s release still swirling in my mind, and deprived of sustenance, slowly losing my battle with reality. I tipped my heavy head to the right, trying to see through the cloud of orbs in my vision, catching Malcolm and his friend storming from the room. It was just Julian and me, with a dead body, just like when he killed Elliott. He was kneeling before me, hands lifting my drooping head, inches from my face. His eyes were different, but I couldn’t ask why. It only mattered that he was with me, holding me. Julian.

  I reached out for him, my timid hands trembling against his jaw, pulling him toward me with what little strength I reserved. My mouth was chapped, rewarded by the soft warmth of his lips as I pressed against him.

  “Bird,” he muttered, closing his mouth and pulling away. His fingers stroked along the sides of my face, through the matted and filthy hair that clung to my skin, scanning my eyes with his focused gaze. My vision cleared and my heart burned with remorse, confusion, and grief. It was overwhelming, and all I could do was stare at him.

  “I’m not Julian.” His palms cupped my cheeks, so much like Julian it was hard to believe his words. “I wish I were, bird, but I’m not.”

  I gazed at his eyes through my blurry vision, absorbing the rays of blue and gray, trying to see Julian in there. Liam’s thumbs grazed the swollen skin beneath my eyes, softly wiping away my tears. He’s not here. Liam is. Liam, who was stabbed…that’s why Julian left…

  I moved my head from Liam’s hold, apprehensively eyeing him while some pieces fell into my mind. “You’re not hurt.”

  “Hurt?”

  My eyes flickered all over his face, his chest, the crisp shirt and pressed tie. He wasn’t hurt or damaged. “Did you…did you set him up, Liam?” I moved my hands to his body, slowly gliding my palms around his chest and stomach, searching for a bandage that would have concealed his wound.

  “What are you looking for?” Liam questioned, his tone lacking its playfulness. His fingers gently wrapped around my wrists and guided my hands into my lap.

  “You weren’t stabbed. Where is he, Liam?”

  A sigh of frustration left his mouth before he licked his lips. He stared at me, eyes dark and fierce. He absolutely looks like his brother. “I’m not stabbed. Who said I was stabbed?”

  “The message Julian got from you when we were at my apartment. You told him Edward Regan stabbed you in an argument.”

  “No. I didn’t tell him that. I was too busy keeping those two contained once I realized you left. We don’t have much time, bird.”

  “Get me out of here. I need to find him, Liam. We need to find him.” I tried to stand, but my legs were limp. I fell against Liam, and he cautiously guided me into the chair, his hands locked around my thighs. His knuckles were white, fingers spread, and the watch peeked from under his cuff.

  “I can’t get you out,” he whispered quickly. “But I’m the one thing keeping you alive in here, bird. You need to keep playing with me. Just follow along.”

  “If you set him up, Liam, I will kill you. I will destroy you.” I wanted to throw up again, but there was nothing left, not even the strength to convulse.

  He sho
ok his head at me, the determined expression along his features once more. “I would never.”

  “Do you know where he is? If he’s…”

  Liam cleared his throat, head facing down, and waited for me to stop hyperventilating before he replied. “I think it’s you they’re after, with everything at the hospital, the car bomb, your ring, and Elliott Daly. It’s Malcolm, a few suits, and me here. I’ve…I’m walking a very thin line, and I’m telling you this to save you and Julian.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “I know.” Liam smiled at me, placing his left hand beneath my chin and gently pinching it with his thumb. “Julian knew too. The thing is, they don’t. I wasn’t sleeping with Noelle or Lucy for fun, Aideen. Those two sing a chorus of what they know to a man who will listen.”

  My jaw fell, eyes wide, and I wished I held strength to slap Liam. “You’re in on this? You’re responsible? You’re letting them torture me, hurt me, destroy your brother…”

  “Keep your voice down,” he ordered, his kindness disappearing, “and trust me. That’s all you need to do right now. I don’t know where Julian is yet. Okay?”

  “No, Liam. Not okay,” I spat, only hushed when his palm covered my mouth in response to approaching footsteps.

  “Charles Foley is downstairs getting comfortable. Lucy was my in. He isn’t responsible, though. I’m so close.” He listened to the footsteps. “Trust me like you’d trust Julian.” Like I’d trust Julian. With my life, my everything, but Liam wasn’t Julian.

  Liam stood above me, squeezing my chin before leaning down to peck my head with a hurried kiss. His mouth was at my ear, the crackle of his voice echoing in my noisy mind.

  “Before, bird, when you thought I was him…your secret will always be safe with me.”

  Chapter Seven