Alexa
I am a naughty woman.
Liam cautioned me about his birthday, strictly prohibiting undesirable celebrations and thoughtful presents. I didn't ask nor understand his reasoning and, although I had vowed to respect his wishes, I hunted down Brad Jones the following afternoon and demanded his secret service.
I had previously conversed with Grayson, asking for some time off work to organise a surprise party at Club 11. Gray complied with stipulations, a personal invite for him and employees. I agreed before speaking to Jace, the problematic co-worker.
Jace apologised for his indelicateness the night we dined together. In fact, the man quite literally floored me when explaining he might've been quick to jump to conclusions about Liam. Apparently, he'd overheard whispers that Liam Warren was the man responsible for his parent's death but never had solid proof or concrete evidence.
I mean, yes, I was somewhat sceptical of Jace's sudden nonchalance. How can a man so vehemently defame someone one night and then act calm and unbothered merely days later? In saying that, I was simply relieved that Jace had dropped the matter. He even asked if the open invite included himself.
After thanking Grayson for granting mandatory time off, I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping with my favourite Suit.
Optimistic and assuring, Brad claimed Liam would be thrilled with planned festivities once the initial shock subsided.
Since then, I have avoided Liam Warren as though my life depended on it. His incuriousness and lack of suspiciousness mollify me.
Liam continues to send text messages, asking about my days or sleep patterns or if I will return to work so that we can spend more time together.
I coolly played off Liam's innocuous questioning, feigned hecticness at the Coffee House and promised to consider his unrelenting job proposals.
Presently, I stand in the middle of Club 11's main function room, watching the scene unfold around me. Long gone are the half-naked dancers, vociferous conversationalists, clamorous clubland music and sporadic strobe lights. Alternatively, sophisticated and glamorous waitresses deliver champagne flutes to guests, pleasant-sounding music segued, and hors d'oeuvre and repartee for entremets ensued.
Under Brad's stern advice, I omitted the three-tiered cake, celebratory embellishments and ostentatious décor, even though I wanted to splash out and make birthday celebrations extra special.
Luckily, Nate escorted Liam to the Grape and Vine, beguiling him into believing the restaurant had a problem that needed immediate addressing. According to Brad, Liam hadn't suspected the lie nor discerned their dishonest behaviour; their boss' absence granted us time to commence the surprise gathering.
I slipped behind the long-stretched bar and settled the diamante clutch bag on the counter. "Hey, stranger," I chimed a little too excitedly. "How's life?"
"Alexa." Dressed to impress, Josh pulled me in for a tight hug, his broad-muscled chest smothering the line to my airways. "I missed you." His hand tapped my backside as he released me. "You look hot as fuck. The boss will go ballistic when he sees you."
I selected a red spaghetti strap dress with a drape neck, open back and side slit. Josh is correct. Liam will hit the roof when he sees me. It's too brazen and revealing, but once he's over the astonishment, I am sure he'll be thrilled by the attire choice—or he'll tear it off in anger and fuck me senseless. "Can I get a drink, please?"
Josh held a tall glass, adding two vodka shots topped with lemonade and citrus fruit. "For you." He winked cheekily. "Am I allowed to drink tonight? Brad never specified."
"I don't see why not." My elbow rested on the bar top. "It's a private function. Knock yourself out."
Josh poured Jameson into a crystal glass, adding a splash of coke. "Damn." He whistled. "Looking good."
I followed his line of vision and bellied disapproval.
My blonde nemesis, modelling a skin-tight dress, impressive rack and six-inch heels, perched onto a padded bar stool. "Hey, Josh." As I am a non-existent species to Natalie, she ignored me, ordered champagne and scoured our surroundings with intense covetousness. "Where is the boss?"
I hate her so much. I will not stand here and listen to her fawn over Liam.
Without wreaking havoc, I grabbed the glass and clutch purse, left the bar and hunted the growing crowd for my friends. Tailored in a navy three-piece, Brad stopped me from going further. "Just a heads up." His chin jerked toward the entrance. "Warren is on his way over." He rubbed his palms together, and the gold curb bracelets that adorned his wrists clinked together. "Make yourself scarce."
My chin hit the floor. "Why?"
"In case he freaks out," he stated the obvious, and I resisted the urge to kneecap him. "What? You knew hostility was a possibility."
His rhyming lingo almost had me smiling. "You assured me he'd get over it," I retorted, and he grinned mischievously. "Brad!"
Brad gently probed me toward the velour cushioned booths. "Your crazy friends are over there." His fingers combed through blond locks. "Hide until he calms down."
"Okay," I whispered, hand to my stomach to ease intense nausea. "Oh, God. What if Liam finishes with me? This is a terrible idea. Let's call it off while there is still time."
"No." He lifted an amber-filled glass to his lips. "Get wasted. Be quiet. I will find you later."
Brad disappeared before I protested. As instructed, I downed the vodka for necessary courage and went to Chloe, Grayson, co-workers—and Jace. Great. "Hey," I sing, wiggling past partygoers in their glamorous cocktail dresses and black tuxedos. "I hope you weren't waiting long." I eyed the only space beside the man in leather and contemplated standing. I plopped onto the seat, turned my back to him slightly, and crossed my legs. "What are you drinking?"
"Hon, I love him." Chloe tossed a thumb toward Grayson. "He is adorable."
Affronted by her child-like praise, Gray spluttered mid-drink. "Adorable," he mocked, gesturing to his silk cream and gold embroidered shirt. "Not cool, Goldie Locks. Since when did Versace scream adorableness?"
"I meant your personality, dick head." She sucked champagne through a black straw. "Why can't you accept compliments, Grayson? Just be quiet and do shots with me."
Not understanding their newfound friendship, I shook my head.
"What are you drinking?" Jace leaned closer to investigate the contents in my glass. "Ah, vodka. The good stuff."
His neat drink sat on the table. "I found a fellow vodka aficionado," I said, impressed. "Nice."
Liam and Brad appeared at the entrance. I sank in the seat. Oh, God. Liam's angry. I can feel his rising tension radiating from here. He passed guests fake smiles while he mastered scolding Brad like a ventriloquist.
Head falling against the booth's padded rear, I snickered into the glass.
"Why are you laughing?" Jace's pierced eyebrow hiked in question. "You are so strange, Alexa."
"I know," I agreed, unfazed by his light-hearted judgments.
As a unit, Liam and Brad descended the glass staircase to join the lively party. Blond Suit tapped the boss' shoulder before he vanished into the crowd, and Liam, forced to converse with excitable guests, alternately addressed whoever demanded attention. He managed to slip away by gesturing to the bar. Masking irritation, he ordered a drink from Josh, a distilled glass of whiskey. His back to the counter's edge while he sipped and hunted our proximities. I knew he was looking for me, and I almost stood to greet him until Natalie forced herself into his optical axis, hand on her hip, slick blonde hair falling down her back.
Liam downed whiskey in one mouthful and set the empty glass onto the countertop. His tall, imperious height towered her short yet slender frame.
Natalie brushed something off his suit sleeve, imaginary lint, I bet, and batted her eyelashes at him.
Impossible jealousy resurfaced.
If Liam doesn't put Natalie in her place, I will raise hell on earth.
His face remained impassive, but when her fingers grappled his suit jacket, he never laid down the law. He allowed her to touch him, even though it made me uncomfortable.
"Someone is stroppy." Gray's arm extended across the booth's rear behind Chloe's neck. "Shot?"
"Please." Rubbing the chill from my arms, I watched him pour neat Grey Goose into neon shot glasses. "Thank you." Bringing the plastic rim to my lips, I tilted my head back and relished in the burn that sauntered down my throat. "I could use another."
My gaze went back to Liam, who still entertained the blonde heathen.
I am furious.
How dare Liam berate me about other men and then play into Natalie's hands, knowing how much we dislike each other?
Natalie's ravenous palm fell to Liam's chest as her face inched closer to talk sweet nothings in his ear. He mouthed something in return—I turned away. I worked too damn hard for tonight to be special for him. I will not punish myself with their visible display.
Jace engaged in conversation with an identifiable man. He is dark and mysterious, smartly dressed and attractive on the eye. I openly nosed, half-listened to them discussing football teams and pondered whether Jace was interested in his new friend.
I poured vodka into a glass, nursed it, and contemplated leaving.
Maybe Liam knows I am over here, but he's punishing me for ignoring inflexible demands. "Whatever."
Jace's friend excused himself to use the male restroom. In the meantime, Jace folded his arms, his leather jacket stretching, barely accommodating his muscles. "What do you think?" He licked his lower lip in wait for my approval. "He mentioned going back to his place."
I hadn't pegged Jace as shy. "If you are interested, then why not?"
Humming throatily, he rubbed a palm against his chin. "I don't know. He's coming across a little clingy."
My nose wrinkled. "What's the definition of clingy?"
"Someone who obsessively blunders over another."
Relation dawned on me. "Oh, God. I am a clingy blunder."
Jace tossed me a double-take. "A what?"
"I am a possessive, jealous, blundering girlfriend," I elucidated, and his green eyes rounded. "Do you know what terrifies me? How much I need him. I willingly made him my lifeline. If he cut me off, I would not survive it." He was understandably nonplussed. "I am worth nothing without him," I whispered the last part. "I know he'll break my heart again, yet I am still sitting here," I knocked back another shot, "waiting for him like a lovesick fool."
Swivelling at the waist to face me fully, Jace clicked his pierced tongue. "Alexa," he said, an indescribable emotion dancing in his eyes. "Listen, I am probably not the best person to share your problems with. Not only am I shit at giving advice, but I am not overly fond of the guy you choose to lay down with at night. If I were to give my opinion, which you stressed is unsolicited, I would say that you deserve so much better than Liam Warren."
My gaze lowered to his chest, unable to withstand his concerned expression. "Maybe."
His fingers grazed my cheek, and I uncurled my spine. "You probably won't care, but there's a guy near the bar who has been checking you out for almost twenty minutes."
I gave him a half-smile. "He might have eyes for you," I teased, unfazed by the appreciation of other men. "Perhaps we should test the theory..." I witnessed his eyes enlarging before the familiar sound of a gun clicking.
"Alexa." Liam's terrifying, authoritative voice hit me to the bone. "Do you want to tell me why this man is touching you?"
I belatedly recognised Jace's palm caressing my knee and paled. "Liam..."
"Hey, listen," Jace tried reasoning, raising his hands in surrender, "It's not what you think—"
"No?" Liam's lower body pressed up to my back. "So, it's all in my head, huh? Your hand didn't hike under Alexa's dress."
"Liam," I intervened, standing on wobbly legs and placing myself in the firing line. "Jace is a friend."
Liam's infuriated, his anger soaring to a feverish pace. Without making eye contact, he fisted the front of my dress and hauled me close, chest to chest, the gun aimed at Jace's head, decisiveness in his cold, blue eyes.
"Stop," I ordered, noticing curious onlookers, some distressed, others unruffled, watching from the sideline. "Liam, I mean it." I felt his erratic heartbeat under my palm. He was seconds from losing composure. "I already told you that he's gay," I whispered in his ear for only him to hear and reached for his hand to coax the gun from his rigid fingers. "Please."
My back was to the others. I had no idea if my friends' were worried or calm or if Jace remained seated.
Liam stubbornly persisted with antagonistic bellicose to defy me. "I want that man out of my fucking club," he spat, and I espied Brad moving into action. "You." His eyes aligned with mine. "My office. Now."
With unwarranted vigour, he thrust me away from the occupied table. My face was impossibly hot. I caught my footing, straightened my dress and beelined the private door that led to Liam's office with him on my heels. I smiled apologetically at security while entering the next floor, and then, standing by the office door like a naughty teenager, I held my breath and prepared for his onslaught.
Liam punched the code to his door and jostled me inside his office. "A fucking party." He stormed across the room, snatched bottled whiskey from the minibar and unscrewed the cap. "What am I, Alexa? Sixteen? You," he pointed at me with his hand gripped around the bottleneck, "might want to prance around like a fucking teenager, but that doesn't mean I want to parade around like one with you."
His offensive remark hit me hard in the chest. "I hate when you refer to me as a child, Liam," I said calmly, closing the door behind me so that security took a hint to plug their ears. "I appreciate that you're upset, but please refrain from insulting me."
"And don't even fucking start me on the alleged gay fucker downstairs." His jaw steeled. "Anyone with a pair of eyes can see how much he wants to fuck your cunt."
"Liam!" Anger coursed through my veins. "How dare you speak to me like that? It's vulgar, offensive and downright disgusting. Yes, Jace is gay." Please, for the love of God, Jace, I hope you did not lie to me. "And yes, I threw you a party, but that does not mean I am childish. I wanted to do something nice for you." My hands curled into fists to prevent anxious shaking. "While we're on the subject of jealous partners. You have no right to stand there and judge me. You had no right to threaten an innocent person, not after I saw you with Natalie."
"Natalie?" Awkwardness squeezed the space between us. "I don't give a fuck about that bitch." He stared at me in silent fortitude as a single tear fell down my cheek. Resting his backside to the desk, he swept a hand down his angered features and lunged the bottle at the wall, fragmenting the glass into tiny shards. "You went over my head."
Fury bubbled inside me. "Why are you acting like this?"
"Alexa," he berated, holding up a hand. "Be quiet. Let me fucking think for a minute."
"Do not tell me to be quiet," I argued, forcing myself into his personal space. "I am supposed to be your..." Girlfriend, I thought, despising how immature it sounded. "I deserve respect." His eyes bored into the ceiling. "Liam." My palms captured his cheeks. "Talk to me."
His gaze toured my face in pensive reluctance. "I haven't had this before," he said, and I frowned. "I don't normally celebrate my birthday. It's not me. I meant what I said, Alexa. You and me, all weekend. That's what I wanted."
"I'm sorry. You told me. I didn't listen." My hands hugged his broad shoulders. "Please don't hate me."
"Alexa, fuck. I could never hate you." His hands grasped my head. "What are you wearing? Are you trying to kill me?"
I put our foreheads together. "I love you."
His eyes closed on a low exhale. "I wish you'd stop saying that."
"Why? Because you refuse to say it back?" I goaded him, and he bristled me with a sharp glare. "If you believe that committing yourself to me wholeheartedly guarantees my death, then you are more senile than I thought. It doesn't matter, Liam," I added, and he stood taller to move away from me. "People see us together. Your enemies will learn who I am either way."
"Stop." His harsh snide sliced through me. "Enough. Don't complicate what we have. Don't put bad concepts inside my head, Alexa. Quit while you're ahead."
I relented, stepping out of his reach.
"I got shit to do. You should go home." He noticed tears in my eyes and spat out another curse. "Don't do that. You know I hate seeing you like that."
"Then stop hurting me!" My chest heaved as I grappled for composure. "Go ahead—shut me out. I am used to your bullshit."
Furious, he squared up to me. "What the fuck do you want from me?"
"For you to love me back," I cried, slapping a hand over my mouth, regretting the devastating words that I spoke. "Liam, I can't do this anymore." I turned for the door when his hand seized the nape of my neck. "Get off me!" I wrestled in his inescapable hold. "Liam!"
"Enough!" He trapped me in his strong arms. "I cannot look at another woman without comparing her to you," he admitted in a low, gravelly voice. "I cannot think straight when you are not with me, or breathe properly when you enter a room, or sleep without you by my side at night. Alexa, I can't picture a future where you are not in it."
My back hit the wall. "Liam—" His mouth crushed mine, stealing the oxygen I breathe. It's neither firm nor soft but determined, adamant, sealed with an unspoken promise. "No." I ripped away first, giving him my cheek. "It hurts too much."
Liam's head fell to my shoulder, his warm breath to my ear. "Feel it." He placed my fingers over his chest. "That is how much I care." His thudding heart rapt against my palm. "That is how much I love you."
My breath hitched. "It's not love."
His lips, soft to my cheek, whispered, "It's love, baby. It scares me. But it is real. I feel it when you look at me," he said quietly. "I am irrevocably in love with you."
We breathed in each other's air and settled in our quiet ambience.
I blinked back happy tears.
Liam Warren fell in love with me.
I looked him in the eye. "And I am in love with you."
He was all smiles as he kissed me. "I am taking the weekend off and spending it with you." His thumbs roved the length of my collar bones. "What do you say? Nobody else. Just you and me. If you behave, I might even cook for you."
Tapping my chin with a pointer finger, I pretended to consider. "Will there be lots of sex?"
His infectious smirk palpitated my heart. "Of course."
Resting my head against the door, I unclasped the emblem from my necklace and held it between us. "For you."
Liam's fingers curled around mine as he accepted the gift. "You got me a present." Lips twitching as he read the engraving, he studied the white gold military tag. "Are you branding me, baby?"
I respond with a gleeful smile. "You bet I am." He leaned in to whisper a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. "I mean, it's only my name. I stopped myself from being too possessive and, I don't know, claiming you as my property."
Liam chuckled, low and throaty. "I will wear it proudly. He fastened the tag's link to his long chain. "I need to send a few emails before we leave."
"Well, I should go first," I suggested, and his expression became serious. "I need to pack a bag, Liam."
He glanced at the laptop on the desk.
"Send the emails. I will go home and come back here before you finish."
"I will order one of the men to drive you."
"That's not necessary, Liam. I promised Chloe late-night noodles. And before you protest," I hiked a leg and pointed to my shoe, "I will remind you that Nate bugged my favourite footwear. Let me stuff my face, and then I will meet you back at the penthouse."
He struggled not to argue with me. "Fine."
I walked away, giddy and slightly nauseated. "Oh, shit."
Gathering scattered thoughts, I opened the dance room door and searched for the others, but new occupants took ownership of our booth. Recalling Gray's predilection for social smoking, I squeezed through dancing crowds, ascended the glass staircase and exited the club through the main entrance. Cold winds blew under my dress. I gripped the hem to avoid flashing, stepped onto the main road, and, head darting back and forth, tried to locate my friends. I did not see the others, but across the street, Jace rested against the brick wall. "Hey," I called, and his drowsy eyes slid open. "Oh, God. How much did you drink?"
Licking his dry lips, Jace briefly took in our surroundings. "I was waiting for the bus," he slurred, staggering to keep himself upright. "I might flag a taxi."
"Come here." Wrapping an arm around his waist, I latched his hand onto my shoulder, and we both zigzagged down the street like drunken idiots. "Why are you heavy?" I complained, my back straining under his weight. "Jesus, Jace." We stumbled around the street corner, and I slapped a hand against the shop window to keep us upright. "You need to lay off that damn sugar."
"I am not fat," he mumbled, and I snorted. "Do not make fun of me."
It's hard not to laugh. Drunk Jace was comical. "Not fat but big."
"In more ways than one," he felt the need to tell me, and I died on the spot. "It's a joke. Well, not really. I am big down there, but yeah, I should shut up now." He gestured to a parked vehicle. "That's my car." He patted himself down to find the car keys. "You are a diamond, Alexa."
"Jace, you cannot drive in your state." I tried to steal the keys. "You're too drunk. It's not safe."
Aiming the keys at his rusted wheels, Jace removed his leather jacket and tossed it in the boot. "I get it," he said, clicking his neck to the side. "I understand why Warren's so protective over you."
"Yeah." I winced. "I am sorry about what happened tonight."
"I would be the same." His green eyes held mine for a few seconds. "You're fucking sinful, Alexa."
I stiffened all over. "Maybe I should call that cab."
"You know, I am not really gay, right?"
Jace stepped forward. I stepped back.
A predatory blackness filled his eyes. "I am still trying to understand how you fell for that."
"Touch me," I warned, preparing to run, "and I will fucking scream."
A sinister smile wound on his lips. His once-friendly smile posed a threat. "You can try," his gaze flickered over my head, "but you won't get far."
A body slammed into my back. I screamed, reaching for the leather-clad hand that captured my mouth to muffle cries.
"Remove the trackers," Jace said, his tone panicked as he snatched the shoes on my feet. "Hurry up."
I begged Jace to stop through watery eyes, but soon, my senses died, and chemicals disoriented my mind. My handler kept the damp cloth over my mouth until I struggled to keep my eyes open.
"We will contact you," the man drawled, his recognisable accent mulling me to sleep. "Get her out of here."
Jace lifted my lifeless body into his arms. I inwardly cried for Liam as he placed me into the car boot.
Darkness crept in and invaded dreams, dragging me back to hell.
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