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I shake my head at my stupidity. Why hadn’t Lucy come for me? If she had, I’d be gone and away from this torment. I realize now that she had to have told Liam I’d called.
It wasn't a coincidence or a special situation that Liam had been with Niko and Donovan and Lucy when I was rescued from Giovanni Fiori. They work together.
They were likely together when I called her. And instead of helping me, Lucy told Liam.
I get out of bed and get in the shower, washing Liam off me. Is it naïveté or just stupidity that has me wanting a man like him? He says he's doing all of this to protect me. And while on the one hand, he hasn't done anything to suggest he wants to hurt me, at least physically, I can't deny that I am once again a prisoner.
Why didn't Lucy come to get me? Why didn't she tell me she wouldn't be coming?
Indignation fills me with how poorly the people I have come to care about and trust are treating me. I exit the shower and throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater. It’s late, and I should be going to bed, but the last thing I want is to be in my pajamas when I see Liam again. I slip on a pair of sneakers because I can’t find my slippers, and I open the door to my bedroom, intending to talk to Liam. I note that his bedroom door is open and so I charge down the hall, needing to feel in control of my life even as I know I have none.
I push the door open and walk into his room ready for a fight, but I don't see him. I'm about to leave when a door opens and Liam emerges wearing a plush robe as he runs a towel through his hair. He stops short when he sees me.
There's a split second when he looks at me with something other than annoyance or anger. I feel like it’s longing, but that’s stupid, especially since the expression is quickly replaced with a scowl.
"Something wrong?" His eyes scan me. “You don’t have your knife, so I guess you’re not here to kill me.”
I cross my arms over my chest and hold my chin up high even though I know the show of defiance and strength is only an illusion. "Why didn't Lucy come for me?"
He shrugs as he tosses his towel into a laundry hamper. "I told her I'd take care of it."
"Except that you’re the problem I need taken care of. I want to talk to her. I want her to tell me why she let you handle it. Why would she willingly hand me over to you?"
He presses his hands on his hips as he stares at me. "She didn't hand you over to me. You're here because of me. I'm the one who’s in control of this, and she and everyone else knows it."
"And they wouldn't dare go against you, I guess."
"It's more a matter of how they respect me. And unlike you, they understand what I'm trying to do."
"I want to hear it from her."
He walks over to his dresser, picking up his phone and tossing it to me. "Go ahead. Call her."
That feels a little too easy, but I clutch the phone in my hands as I turn to leave his room.
"You can call her here."
Ugh. "What if I want to talk to her privately?"
"You talk to her in front of me or not at all. You don't have to worry about what I might hear. I know you don't have anything nice to say about me."
I stare at him, wishing I could come up with words that would change this whole situation, but I know there are none. So, I dial Lucy's number.
"Kate?"
"I'm sorry to call so late, but I'm wondering where you are and if you're coming to get me." I know she's not. And perhaps it's petty to act like I'm still hoping that she'll be here so that she'll feel guilty for abandoning me to Liam.
She lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Kate, but right now, being with Liam, under his protection, is where you need to be. He knows better than anyone what you're up against."
I glanced over at him, wishing the death stare I'm sending his way would turn him into a pile of ash. "I don't see why you and Donovan can’t protect me."
"Like I said, Liam has a better grasp on what is going on. He knows the players personally and what they're capable of."
"He's keeping me prisoner here." I try to ignore the fact that Liam has just dropped his towel and is completely naked.
He’s the perfect specimen of man.
Too bad his personality is so ugly. Even so, my hormones betray me by firing up at the vision of the strong, sexy man. I turn away as he steps into boxer briefs.
