“Took him long enough.” He turned away and headed down the next flight of stairs until he entered the kitchen. He opened a couple cabinets until he found what he was looking for—a giant bottle of scotch.
I grabbed it out of his hand. “Hades, come on.”
His eyes narrowed. “I think this situation warrants a drink.” He snatched it back.
I pushed him until he fell back and then grabbed the bottle from his weakened grip.
“What the fuck—”
I opened the cap and poured it into the sink.
He righted himself, giving me a distinct look of rage. “It’s like that?”
When the bottle was empty, I shook it to dispel the last few drops. “Yeah. It’s like that.” I left the bottle in the sink. “You’ve got a family to think about, Hades. And I’m not just talking about Sofia, Andrew, and the baby.” I came back to him. “I’m your family too, and I’m not letting you poison yourself more—regardless of the circumstances.” I leaned against the counter beside him and held his gaze.
His rage slowly faded away, but there was a baseline that was constantly present. “What happened next?”
“What you’d expect. Threatened to kill me…blah, blah.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And you aren’t concerned about that? That’s a pretty credible threat.”
“No. I’m concerned about Annabella.”
“You think he’d hurt her?”
I shook my head. “No. He already confronted her. Nothing happened.”
“Then what do you mean?” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.
It was a problem with no solution, a situation so complicated, there was no answer. “I can’t kill him. If I do…”
He caught up. “It’ll ruin your relationship with Anna.”
Now I wish I still had that scotch. “Yeah.”
“So, he can kill you, but you can’t kill him?”
“He already lost her, so he doesn’t have that problem.”
He sighed loudly. “That’s fucking annoying.”
“Yeah.”
“She must understand you don’t have a choice, right?”
“I’m sure she does, but she doesn’t want Liam to die. And even if it’s necessary and I have no choice, we’ll never recover from that. I’ll always be the man who murdered the man she was married to. The man she wanted to have a family with. The man she loved.”
“You lose, no matter what.”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe we could get someone else to kill him.”
The thought had already crossed my mind. “Even if I pay a hit man, she’s gonna know it’s me.”
“What if I do it?” It was a testament to our relationship that he would offer after he’d made it abundantly clear he’d wiped his hands clean and walked away from that life.
“No.”
“We could make it look like an accident—”
“No. Because if she ever asks me, I can’t lie.”
“Alright…” He gripped the edge of the counter while he leaned back against it. “Then I don’t see a solution, Damien.”
“Neither do I.”
“Unless she can convince him to let this go.”
“I don’t want her to have any interaction with him at all.” Liam had had his chance, he blew it, and now he needed to walk away. She didn’t see me as her man, but she was my woman as far as I was concerned.
“I’m sorry, man.” His look of sympathy was bright in his dark eyes. “But it’s the only option you have.”
Her door was open, so I entered her office without knocking.
She sat behind her desk and typed on her laptop. Her hair and makeup were done, but that usual spark wasn’t in her eyes. She looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept much the night before. Or maybe she was just miserable, upset that all of her bad decisions had led to this terrible moment.
I sank into the white armchair that faced her desk. Her office was decorated in her style, a small vase of fresh flowers on the corner of her desk, a painting of wildflowers on the wall behind her, along with the brightly colored accents that made the office feel like perpetual spring.
When she heard my weight sink into the chair, she looked up. A spark of surprise moved over her features, but it was quickly replaced by stoicism once more. She didn’t fill the room with heat the way she used to when she saw me. All that desire that erupted between us was gone, masked by all the shit that happened.
I fucking hated it.
It was unrealistic to expect her to jump into my arms right away, but it was also unrealistic to expect me not to want her.
She shut her laptop so there was no barrier between us. “Hi…”
I didn’t return her words.
“Is everything alright?”
“No.” My hands rested on the padded armrests, and my fingers hung over the edge. “I’ve been thinking about this for a few days, and I’ve come to realize there’s no real solution.”
Her eyes fell in sadness.
“Every time I don’t kill him, it gives him another chance to kill me.”
She took a deep breath as if just the thought made her feel sick to her stomach.
“And you can live with that? I know what he meant to you, but he’s your past. I’m your future. If you have to choose, I think the answer is obvious. And if it’s not obvious to you, then I’m concerned.”
She lifted her gaze again. “It’s not about choosing, Damien. I don’t want him to kill you as much as I don’t want you to kill him. Death and violence are not the solution I want. I want Liam to let this go, to fade into the background, to find happiness in whichever way he chooses. And I obviously want the same for you. The idea of him hurting you…makes me so sick.”
I wanted Liam to disappear too… And I wished I could make him disappear with my fists. I wanted to kill him for what he did to her, for hurting her so many goddamn times. It wasn’t hard to be a good man to a good woman. I’d never even done it, and I still knew it would be a walk in the goddamn park.
“Let me talk to him. He’s had a few days to decompress.”
I didn’t want them to be in a room alone together, but this was the only solution she was willing to accept. “Alright.”
Her eyes shifted back and forth in surprise, taken aback by my agreement.
“Do it somewhere public.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s pretty clear what I mean. If you’re alone together in a soundproof house, you won’t be able to scream for help if you need it.”
She must have thought my suggestion meant something else entirely. “He wouldn’t hurt me, but fair enough.”
My fingers lightly tapped against the armrests as I stared at her, wanting to say more. But I was out of bullets. A part of me wanted to ask her to lunch, but with this cloud over our heads, asking her out seemed pointless. “Let me know how it goes.” I rose from the chair and headed to the door.
“Damien.”
I turned around, hoping for something substantial to escape her lips.