“You?” he growled.
“Yeah, me, asshole. Where is your wife?”
Walter puffed up his chest and tried to look down his nose at me, which didn’t work very well considering he was at least a foot shorter than I was.
“I’ll give you a minute to get back in your car and get the fuck off my property.”
Celia emerged from behind him and put a calming hand on his shoulder. She stood a few inches taller than him, and when she looked down at her stooped husband, I saw her lips curl. “It’s quite alright. Why don’t you get back to bed? You’ve got a big day tomorrow, and I want my big, fuzzy bear to be well-rested.” Her tone was patronizing, like she was talking to a small child, but if Walter noticed, he gave no sign of it.
He looked up at her, and all the anger he’d shown me a moment ago melted away to absolute adoration. He puckered his lips out for a kiss. Celia bent down and pecked her lips against his without taking her eyes from me.
Walter hobbled back into the house and Celia stepped outside, closing the door. With a practiced, smooth motion, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand, then wiped the back of her hand on her nightgown. “I presume you’re here to make some kind of macho threats because of the text I sent?” She leaned close to my face and breathed in through her nose. “I think I can still smell her pussy on you. You really didn’t waste any time, did—”
“It’s done.” My voice was nearly a growl. “Whatever this shit is. Whatever you think is going to come of it. It’s done. If I even think you’re still fucking around with my life, I’ll do everything in my power to get you thrown in jail or sued for everything your worth. I’ll ruin you. I swear it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Liam,” she cooed. “You’re so sexy when you’re mad.” She reached to touch my cheek, but I flinched back from her touch. “But you’re really just a big, dumb, gorgeous hunk of meat. Unless you were planning some sort of… physical incident, you’re powerless. I’ve covered every base. Every little thread you probably think you could pull to unravel me is only a dead end. There’s nothing you can do, Liam. Except give in, of course, but I know you’re stubborn, so I’m prepared to wait as long as it takes.”
"Stay. Away." I was too mad to say more, to articulate my thoughts, or to explain how wrong she was. It didn't matter, anyway. I almost wanted her to try again, to give me an excuse. Thinking I was incapable would be the worst mistake she could make. Maybe she'd assumed I had been trying to get back at her this whole time, but I'd only been weathering the storm. I didn't want to turn this ridiculous fixation of hers into a full-blown war, but now? Now she'd gotten her filthy hands between Lilith and me, and I was ready to do whatever it took to shut her down.
She tutted. “Is that all? No big speech or grand threats? Just ‘stay away?’” she asked, forcing her voice down deep to mimic mine. “Oh, by the way. Next time, take your boxers off before you go down on her. I was so disappointed that you left them on.”
“What happened to the things you said yesterday morning? This isn’t about sex? Just revenge?” I shook my head in disgust.
She flicked her eyebrows up and tilted her heads. “Whoops. Did I fib? You can cuff me, if that will make you feel better.” Celia held out her wrists and pouted her lips.
“How long did you say the jail time is for murder?” I asked Price.
“Celia is a bitch,” he said, “but I don’t think I can help you plan her murder. That’s probably a step too far. Pretty sure there’s some special clause in the bible for people who kill their siblings.”
We were in my office downtown. It was my first time back at work in what felt like weeks. I still hadn't completely shed my half-assed double life as "Bob Smith," mainly because I wasn't even close to giving up on Lilith, and I wasn't exactly itching to reclaim my old life just yet. Plus, I needed to keep an eye out in case she got it in her head to invite some other guy over to make me jealous. It would absolutely work, and I wasn't above making an ass of myself to step in to keep something like that from happening.
“You mean hiding a camera in my apartment and pointing it at my bed wasn’t a step too far?”
Price tilted his head and considered. “There’s peeping, and then there’s murder. In the eyes of the law, I’m pretty sure one of those is more frowned upon.”
“What about humane murder?” I asked. “Would you still be opposed if—”
“Yes. If it’s with a bazooka or a spoon, I’m not going to approve the murder of my sister. Sorry.”
I sighed. “I’d be letting her off too easy, anyway. She needs to have a long time to regret pissing me off. Years and years of disappointment. I want her to marinate in depression until you can smell it coming off her as soon as she walks in a room.”
Price raised his eyebrows at me and grinned a little. “She’s got you pretty pissed, huh?”
I leaned back in my chair and stared out the window. “A little. Yeah.”
“Is it because of the camera, or is it because her stunt made you fuck things up with the neighbor girl?”
“Can’t it be both?”
“I’m just saying. You’re normally a pretty easy-going guy, Liam. Hell, when she started putting you through this shit, you decided to play nice and disappear until she got bored. God knows you could’ve struck back a month ago when this began. So why all the sudden anger if it’s not because of the girl?”
“So it’s because of the girl, then. What difference does it make? I’m done dealing with Celia’s bullshit. I meant what I said to her, too. If she tries to get involved one more time, even in the smallest way, I’m not holding anything back.”
“What do you mean, like you’ll burn her house down?”
“I was exaggerating with the murder stuff, Price. I’m not insane. I don’t want to kill her, I just want her to wake up every day and think to herself, ‘my life is ruined. I royally fucked up when I decided to cross Liam Hightower. I’m a mistake, and the world would be a better place without me.’”
“Wow, yeah. You’re not insane at all.”
9
Lilith
I left extra early for work, which was absolutely not my style. I had a feeling Liam would come knocking on my door in the morning and try to smooth-talk me into forgiving him. When it came to him, I couldn’t trust myself. So, like an addict, I didn’t even give myself the opportunity to fall for the trap.
I set my alarm for five in the morning, got ready as quickly as I could, and was out of the apartment by six.
Thankfully, it was an odd day of work, and I was able to keep Liam off my mind for most of the morning. William’s twin brother, Bruce, and William’s grandmother-in-law had a secret meeting with me to talk about plans for William’s surprise birthday party.
I sat across from Bruce in his neat and tidy corner office while William’s grandmother-in-law, A.K.A “Grammy” paced around and continually touched everything, turned it, or moved it just a few centimeters to one side. Every time she fidgeted with something in Bruce’s office, I could see the twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She knew Bruce was a neat-freak bordering on O.C.D., and more than anyone I’d ever met, Grammy was a button-pusher.
Bruce had to pause our little meeting to take a call, but he was getting visibly worked up over Grammy’s meddling.
“How’s your dark little life treating you?” Grammy asked me. She ran her fingertips over the blinds behind Bruce’s desk, tilting a few random sections out of alignment with the others.
“Just waiting for the next disappointing turn of events. What about you, planning on dying any time soon?”
She barked a laugh. “The moment you plan to die is the moment you stop living.”
“Nice. Did you read that on a Hallmark card?”
“Fortune cookie.”
“Where’s Hailey, anyway?” I asked. “Isn’t she the one who should have to plan the birthday party for that idiot?”
“I didn’t invite her because she’d try to talk us out of doing anything coo
l. You feel me, fam?”
“Ugh,” I said, but I almost couldn’t stop myself from grinning. “It’s so gross when you try to talk ‘hip.’ Can you please not do that? It’s such a cliché old person thing. You realize that, right? You didn’t invent trying to make young people uncomfortable by using their words.”
“You’re too young to know what I did or didn’t invent, squirt. And it’s only cliché if I’m not aware, which I am, which makes it meta. And no, I’m not going to explain what that means to you.”
I sighed. “Whether it’s ‘meta’ or not, it’s gross. You should just use old people words like whippersnapper and hooligan instead of talking like a seven-year-old.”
“Is it also gross if I tell you that I just got some action last night and I’m still feeling sore? Can’t tell if it’s because he did a good job or if it’s because I’m in my seventies, but damn my hammies are tight today.”
“Yes. That’s also gross.”
She shrugged as she lifted up a paperweight from Bruce’s desk. I thought his eyes might bulge out of their sockets when she tossed it casually from one hand to another and then set it back down, just a few inches from where she’d picked it up. “There’s a reason all the pipes keep running late into old age.”
“Whether your ‘pipes’ are running or not is definitely in the category of things I don’t need to know.”
Grammy laughed. “Then I wouldn’t get to see the horrified look on your face. What fun would that be?”
“I’m not horrified. It’s just gross to picture.”
“What if I told you we did butt stuff, mouth stuff, and pussy stuff, and it all happened in an order that would surprise you.”
I raised my eyebrows and stared toward Bruce, who had ended his call and was looking back at me with the same horrified expression. “Then yes,” I said quietly. “That would horrify me.”
She cackled again. “Finally off the phone, boss man? It’s about time. Some of us don’t have much longer on this Earth, you know.”
“I’m sure you’ll live for many, many more years to come,” Bruce said. “I think you’re too stubborn to die.”
“Good. At least you’re not a complete idiot, like your brother.”
“William is eccentric,” Bruce said. “He’s not an idiot, unfortunately. If he was an idiot, I could just write him a check every month and keep him out of my life and our business. Unfortunately, I actually need what he brings to Galleon, so we’re all forced to endure him.”
“Agree to disagree,” I said.
Bruce grinned. “Unlike some of you, I actually have work to do. So could we skip to the part where we plan this birthday party?”
“Male strippers,” Grammy said. “That’s it. I don’t need your input or your opinions. It’s happening. I just need you for your money,” she said, pointing to Bruce. “And I need you to work with his wifey to think up a good cover story to get him to show up at the right time and without a clue. Bonus points if you can think of a cover story that gets him to show up wearing something stupid. I’ll handle the costumes for the strippers and everything else.”
I nodded in approval. “I like it.”
Bruce shook his head. “If I agree to this, does it mean you’ll leave my office and stop touching my things?”
I was extra tired by the time I got off work. I’d woken up almost two hours before my usual time that morning. I’d also stayed up a few hours later than normal last night because of the combination of remembering how amazing it had felt to have Liam between my legs and the confusion of trying to figure out what the hell had made him flip a switch so quickly.
I paused outside the door to my apartment complex and tried to peek in the window. I didn’t want to run into him. Liam didn’t have my phone number, at least, so if I could manage to come and go without him seeing me, I could avoid him.
“I think it’s clear,” a voice said from behind me.
I jumped away from the sound. On the streets of New York City, unexpected voices over your shoulder raised all kinds of red flags. When I turned around to face him, I was ready to gouge eyeballs with my pinky fingers if I had to. I relaxed, but only a little, when I saw it was Liam.
“What were you doing, just creeping around until I got here?” I asked.
Liam gave a little tilt of his head to acknowledge the accusation. “Kind of. I did take a few breaks. Got a hotdog. Talked to a homeless guy about taxes. Fed some bread to a pigeon. But yeah, pretty much just waited here till you showed up.”
He was wearing a suit and tie that looked expensive. I didn’t know enough about clothes to say for sure, but I had a suspicion his clothes meant he had cast away the middle-class Bob Smith persona, at least as far as his wardrobe was concerned. I knew enough to know he was probably very wealthy, but seeing him dressed up really hammered the point home.
I had been right, after all. Even when I’d seen him dressing down, I could practically smell the fancy yacht-dweller scent radiating off him.
“I’ve got important things to do. There’s a marathon of Boy Meets World starting in ten minutes, so…”
“Wow, yeah,” he said. “That sounds pretty important. I could go grab a pizza and we could watch it together.”
I held up a finger in his face and shook my head. “No. You don’t get to just schmooze your way back into my good graces. I made a rare exception for you. I was nice to you, and if—”
“Let me explain.”
I shook my head and reached for the door, but he put his hand on top of mine and stopped me.
“Lilith. I’m not letting that dumb thing that happens in shows and movies happen here. I can seriously explain what happened. Just hear me out.”
I crossed my arms. “What dumb thing?”
He shrugged. “You know. Where there’s a simple explanation, but instead of just spitting it out, the character keeps saying things like, ‘wait, if you just let me explain,’ and ‘don’t go! I can explain.’ Except they repeat ten versions of that instead of just spitting out the three words that would fix everything. So half the movie goes by with a misunderstanding that could be fixed if the characters just talked for five seconds.”
“So you’re telling me you have three magic words that can fix everything?”
Liam looked up, and I could tell he was trying to arrange whatever he was going to try to say into three words. “There wassah camera.”
“Wassah?” I asked.
“Four words would have been better. But yes. There was a camera.”
“Wait,” I said. His words finally sank in. “You were filming us? I’m waiting for the part where this magically fixes anything, except making sure I don’t feel any guilt when I murder you in your sleep.”
“Remember the step-sister I told you about? She broke into my apartment yesterday morning and gave some ridiculous, evil villain speech. I thought it was just her being dramatic, but she must have hidden the cameras before she woke me up.”
“Cameras? Plural? Are you saying there’s a video of me on the internet somewhere by now?”
“No. No, definitely not. Probably not,” he said with a little less confidence. “I scoured the apartment and got all of them. But that’s what spooked me. The text was from her, and she was gloating about the fact that she was watching. I was too pissed to think straight, and, well, yeah.”
“Well, yeah? What am I supposed to do with this? Tell you it’s all good? No big deal, I do naked camera work all the time?”
He lowered his eyes. “I won’t let anything like it happen again. I’m not going to make excuses for it. I knew Celia was fucked up, but I thought she had her limits. I know there are none anymore, and I’m going to stop her from screwing around with my life—with our lives—again.”
I studied the ground while I tried to let everything digest. If I looked past the outrage of being filmed by some psychotic relative of Liam’s, or the weirdness that his step-sister would set up spy cameras and watch him about to have sex, I could see that
Liam wasn’t the one to be upset with. I wasn’t ready to just nod my head and trust that he was going to take care of this sister of his, though, or the potential video she had sitting on her computer of me butt naked getting eaten out.
“I want to talk to her,” I said.
Liam flinched. Maybe it was my tone or something in my eye, but he was looking at me like I’d just said I was going to see if you could murder somebody with a spork. Yes, I might have been wondering if it was possible.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea. Trust me. I’ll do everything I can to stop her from interfering in our lives anymore. Until now, I was trying to lay low and avoid her. Not anymore. She crossed every goddamn line there is, and I’m done playing nice. I don’t exactly know what I can do to get back at her, but if she doesn’t back off, I’ll figure something out.”
I sighed. “If your plan for revenge is cruel enough, I’ll let you handle it. But I think I have just as much reason to hate this woman as you do, so don’t think I won’t get involved if you’re not doing a good enough job.”
Some of the seriousness from his face finally drained. He grinned. “Remind me not to piss you off.”
“Have a time machine?”
He chuckled. “Fair point.”
“Besides, I’m still not sure I have forgiven you.”
“Would pizza help?”
“A little bit. But you had better find a place with cheesy bread. And dessert pizza. And I need crab rangoons.”
He scrunched up his forehead. “Are you sure you didn’t mean all those ‘and’s to be ‘or’s?”
“I didn’t stutter. Also, for questioning me, you also need to get a chocolate oreo milkshake with that.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then nodded. “Give me half an hour. You can fill me in on what I miss from the marathon. Also, you’re hot when you get hardcore like that.”
I scowled.
He just nodded and smirked. “Yep. That’s the look.”
I went inside, and once I was sure no one was watching, I smiled. I could be pissed about the video and his step-sister all I wanted. None of that meant I couldn’t be happy that none of the things I’d assumed about Liam had been true last night. So I let the happiness come. I may have spent most of my life trying to convince everybody that I was practically allergic to happiness, but I was starting to think it was because I thought I’d never find it. After all, you can’t fail to find what you don’t look for.
His Package Page 8
