He got one punch in on Beady Eyes before Bill lifted a gun to his face.
“That’s enough, Mr. Larsen. I won’t hesitate to put a slug right between your eyes.”
Liam panted as he stared at the man. Blood dripped into his right eye and he let it, not wanting to take his gaze off any of the men. The one he’d pulled off his feet stood, fire in his gaze as he came toward Liam.
“Buzz, stop.” Bill said. “Mr. Larsen isn’t going to fight anymore, are you?”
“Keep him away from me,” Liam snapped.
“You tell Gerald that we’ll be back.”
“I told you, I don’t know where Gerald is!”
“You better find him if you want to stay out of the hospital…or the morgue.” The man turned toward the door but paused and looked over his shoulder. “One more thing. Call the cops, and it won’t be the hospital.”
Liam watched them leave, then staggered over to lock up the shop. He looked around at the mess, pain wracking his sides where he’d been kicked, but it didn’t feel as bad as his breaking heart. His poor shop.
Staggering to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. There was a big slash on his temple where he’d hit the corner of the table, and color was already sprouting along his cheeks where he’d been punched. He cautiously wiggled his nose. Not broken, at least. His right eye was already puffing up, making it hard to see out of.
He pulled out the first aid kit and did what he could to his face, wincing at the sting when he cleaned out the cut on his forehead.
He’d gotten off better than he expected.
Liam walked into the main area of his shop and looked around at the chaos.
He wouldn’t be opening up anymore that day or the next—not until he restocked the tables and shelves. One whole wall of vases had been shattered, along with two of the shelves.
He pulled out his phone and called Gerald. The phone rang several times before going once again to voicemail.
“Gerald, this is Liam. I don’t know where the hell you are, but we’ve got a huge problem. Call me immediately.”
He put the phone into his pocket and slumped into the chair next to his arrangement table. Pain pulsed through him, but it had nothing on the worry. Gerald was his friend, and he had no idea what was going on with him or where he was.
But the man was in a hell of a lot of trouble. They both were.
Chapter Four
Liam’s gut churned at having the shop closed two days in a row. It hadn’t been open long enough to start getting regular customers and a steady stream of business. He couldn’t afford this right now.
But it was the bigger fear of having Bill and his companions stopping in to look for Gerald again that had him standing in the reception area at Ward Security.
He opened and closed his fists at his sides while willing his racing heart to slow. This was just about getting a little advice on what to do next. Going to the cops was his first choice, but that would likely result in a late-night phone call about his shop burning to the ground or worse, waking up to Bill and his friends in his home.
It would be okay. Sven had sung the praises of Ward Security over the years, particularly about his boss. Rowe Ward was a good guy. He looked out for the people in his employ and he was discreet. He’d met Rowe only once before, and that had been at the wedding a week ago.
Not exactly a great impression he was creating with this second meeting.
Liam clenched his hands again and started to turn toward the receptionist to tell her he was going to leave when the door opened to reveal a short, stocky man with bright red hair. Liam winced to see the happy expression on his face drain away. His jaw hardened, his narrowed eyes sweeping over his black eye, long cut on his forehead, and other bruises on his face. Yeah, he looked like shit.
“Does Sven know about whatever”—Rowe paused and motioned toward Liam’s face—“this is?”
“No, and I’d really like it if he didn’t find out while he’s on his honeymoon,” Liam replied in a low voice. “I was hoping for some advice.”
Rowe grunted and then turned a smile on the receptionist. “Marion, can you send my calls and meetings over to Andrei for the next two hours?”
“Sure. Would you like me to warn him ahead of time?”
Rowe scratched his chin, seeming to think about her question before he huffed a laugh. “Yeah, you better. Otherwise, he’s gonna stomp into my office and growl at me.”
The woman chuckled as she picked up the phone. “I think he’s doing less growling now that his little one is happy with her new nanny.”
Rowe smiled at the mention of the little girl. Liam had already been subjected to numerous pictures of Andrei’s daughter. And yes, she was absolutely precious. She clearly had her daddies wrapped about her little fingers.
“Come on. Let’s have a chat in my office.” Rowe waved for Liam to accompany him.
They left behind the sleek and quiet reception area for a large room that was mostly steel and concrete. There were training stations and sparring areas set up around the room. People moved quickly to and from different places. Rowe waved to several employees as they called out greetings, but Liam wished they’d just slide through the big area without being noticed. Not that he ever managed to get through any place without being noticed. He was far too big for that.
He recognized a few faces that he saw at Sven’s wedding and prayed they didn’t remember him.
“No one will say anything to Sven. Everyone knows clients—no matter who they are—deserve their privacy,” Rowe said as if reading his mind. He started up a set of stairs to a second floor that appeared to be mostly offices.
“But I’m not a client,” Liam murmured.
Rowe stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to look at Liam. They were nearly the same height, allowing Rowe to stare directly into his eyes with his little smirk. “You’re right. You’re family.”
Liam snorted. “We just met a week ago.”
“Yeah, but Sven is family. And he’s out of town right now. That means I’m watching out for his family while he’s gone, making you my family. And nobody hurts my family.”
Something unexpectedly warm expanded in his chest, and Liam smiled at the redhead. It was the same protective feeling he got for his brothers and sister. He understood and greatly appreciated Rowe’s words, but he didn’t want this man to go to any trouble.
“Like I said, I’m just hoping for some advice with my problem.”
Rowe grunted again, but Liam didn’t believe for a second that he was deterred from his more protective instincts. They continued to Rowe’s office without another word. It was only when they were alone with the door closed that Liam felt like he could breathe. No more prying eyes seeing his horrible bruises and cuts. No more curious stares and looks of sympathy. Or maybe it was pity.
“Would you like something to drink? Water? Or something stronger?” Rowe asked after directing Liam to the large leather couch against the wall.
“Water would be nice. Thank you.”
Rowe pulled two bottles of water from a mini fridge and handed one to Liam before he sat on the edge of his desk. “All right, what’s going on? Why does your handsome face look like someone’s been tap-dancing on it?”