a/n: chapter 9 has been completely rewritten and the original chapter 10 has been deleted, hence why the chapter's may seem off for my OG readers. Definitely one of my favorite chapters that I've rewritten.
"You did."
I could still see the broken look that crossed Liam's face when he whispered those two words. His features softened, his eyes fell to his feet, the wall of confidence that he kept up shook, but it didn't completely fall.
I would've felt bad, but I didn't even know what I did.
Our conversation replayed itself in my mind the entire night, which explained why at four in the morning, I scrambled out of bed, gathered some courage, and marched across the hotel suite towards Liam's bedroom. I pushed his door open and stood beneath the doorframe for twenty minutes, undecided as to whether I should step in or not.
His figure had yet to move in over twenty minutes, but he didn't look to be in a comfortable enough position to sleep. He rested on his back, his arms folded across his chest as though he was trying to hold himself. He knew I was there, of course he knew.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet but demanding, "You killed her."
A hundred and one questions formed in my mind, but I decided that this time, I would retrieve all the information first, then I would question. I took a cautious step inside the dark room, my eyes darting up and down Liam's frame. I was scared, unsure as to where this conversation would lead us if it kept going.
I stopped walking, noting that I may want to stay near an exit just incase.
Deducing that he was clearly talking about Ellie Mitchell, I clear my throat and suppress the shaking in my voice, "How do you kill someone you don't even know?"
"You do know her," He pauses briefly, as if he was actually struggling to finish the sentence. The bed creaks as he shifts his weight and lets out a breath, "You're her sister."
My right eyelid twitches, "Bullshit."
I turn on a dime and march out the room, heat rising to my face in annoyance and anger, possibly even regret for even considering to talk this out. I breeze past the kitchenette and stop. Liam had scrambled up off the bed and rushed to follow me, so when I spun around and pointed an accusing finger at him, my nail poked at his bare chest.
"You're lying," I shove him backwards and take a step forward, "Stop lying to yourself. I do not have a sister and I'm fairly certain if I murdered someone, like you seem to claim I did, I would remember." I take another step while Liam stands his ground, his glare only intensifying as the seconds pass. I lower my voice, "I don't know a lot of things, but what I do know is this. Your girlfriend died and your pissed, but you don't even know who you're mad at."
Liam tilts his head, but stays silent.
My lips part as I plan to continue, but stop once I analyze the look that had crossed Liam's face. He wasn't listening to a word I said, that, or he was letting everything go through one ear and out the other. I huff and wave him off, continuing my journey back to my bedroom. I'd rather not waste my breath.
"I'm sorry you lost your girlfriend," I add.
"And I'm sorry you lost a sister."
I stomp my foot like a tantrum-throwing three year old and whirl around with my fists clenched, "Will you cut it with the sister cra—"
"7 years ago, you hit your head in a car accident—"
I take a step back, shaking my head, "Liam."
"You and Ellie were in the backseat, your mother and father in the front."
"Liam."
"I don't know why she did it," he begins shaking his head, a confused look washing over his face, "but the police report stated that Ellie had unstrapped her seatbelt just seconds before the car crashed and the only theory I can come up with, is that she was trying to help you with something."
I wanted to say something, but I didn't, I couldn't have even if I had tried.
"Your father and Ellie died on impact. You," Liam takes a subtle step in my direction, "you hit your head, hard, hard enough to cause memory loss." I watched him pull his lips in his mouth, his brows connecting as he turns away from me, "your mother survived, but after losing her oldest daughter, her husband, and watching her fourteen year old baby girl go through what you can't even remember... she, just..."
I take a wild guess, "Suicide?"
"She was admitted into a psychiatric hospital and because she could no longer take care of you, you were sent to an orphanage and eventually adopted by—"
"—by the Crawford's," I turn away from him, pressing four fingers against my temple. What Liam had explained was slowly making sense, but there were lapses in my memory. I recall a car accident and I remember lying in a twin sized bed, staring at a plain ceiling, only for the scene to jump like a slideshow of pictures, landing me in the only home I remember growing up in; the Crawford's.
He takes another step towards me, cutting through the darkness of the living room. His lips part, close, and part again as he hesitates. Liam shifts in his stance and turns his head away from me, focusing on the shadows that line the large room. He paused for an extended period of time and I hated it. This was the first time I actually wanted to hear him speak and he was refusing too.
"For the longest time," he finally speaks, making eye contact with me, "I wished it had been you. I wished it was you that died." You could see the tension in his shoulders and how he relaxed after admitting that to me, as if that confession relieved him of a ton of stress.
I just bit my lip. There wasn't much I could say to that.
Then he was walking towards me, closing the space between us in four large steps. I blinked and he was right up on me, his head bent as he looked me directly in the eye, his voice not only lowering an octave, but the volume at which he spoke took a nose dive too.
"Your father, your real father," Liam emphasizes, "came to me only a few months before the accident and said, that, if something were to ever happen to him, he wanted me to look out for his girls' and at the time, I said yes because of Ellie, but he died having heard me say that I would look after his daughters," I tense as Liam leans down, confused about his intentions, "I'm a lot of things, Ms. Mitchell, but I'm a man of my word."
Miss Mitchell.
His hand cups the right side of my face. I wrap my palm around his wrist, trying to pull away as politely as I can. "Liam, I definitely don't think—whatever—"
"And when I told your father I would protect you, I meant it, no matter what the cost."
He shoved me.
I'm not even sure the words that came out of my mouth were coherent. I hit the ground, a pained expression crossing my face as I glance up, confused. Liam didn't have time to explain and he didn't need too. A knife was embedded in the wall, right where my head had been just a second ago. Our gazes meet.
We weren't alone.
I flinch from my position on the floor, helplessly watching a figure grab Liam from behind, forcefully pushing him against the wall. My eyes widen as the intruder snags a fistful of Liam's hair, before reeling his head back and slamming it against the wall repeatedly. I don't break out of my transfixed state of shock and fear until I see the blood running down Liam's nose.
Liam is yanked back and I watch as he falls to the floor, clearly dazed.
It wasn't until the figure turned towards me, did I even think of running. An incredibly delayed reaction, I know.
I scramble to my feet and knowing not to make the same mistake as I did the last time someone broke into my home, I raced towards the general direction of the door. I already had a plan in place; I would reach the door, fling it open, rush out into the hallway screaming bloody murder. I prayed that a kind soul would hear me, call the police, and then the intruders would be taken care of and Liam's bloody nose would be fixed.
Too bad I didn't even reach the door.
I hit something, someone, and I stumbled. I was just about to meet the floor when a large hand wrapped around my forearm, stopping me. In one fluid motion, I was pulled up and around, spinning right against my savior's hard chest. I leaned my head back, my hands outstretched as a barrier between I and whoever it was I couldn't see.
The familiar voice rang in my ears, "Now, what kind of man would I be if I let you fall?"
The lights in the suite flip on and I'm staring at the prettiest pair of hazel eyes I had ever seen. I was almost, almost, taken back at how handsome the man was. With height, gorgeous eyes, a tanned complexion, and hair as dark as night, he looked like an absolute angel – which explains why I tried so desperately to pull myself out of his grasp, my father's words from a few years ago echoing in the back of my mind.
"Every angel as a little bit of demon in them."
"You'd still be a murderer," a voice rang out from behind me. It wasn't Liam's.
"Oh," There was a pause, as if he just had an epiphany, "that's awfully unfortunate," and then I was falling, clearly unstable on my feet. He had shoved me just the slightest and I hit the floor a second later.
I hit the ground with a thud, my vision blurring just for a second. I counted two other intruders, who stood on either side of Liam. Liam was kneeling, his head bowed, blood running down his right nostril. Guns were positioned on either side of his head, occasionally tapping his temple in annoyance. He looked defeated and annoyed, his chest rising and falling quickly.
I watched him inhale sharply, before stating, "Don't turn your back on—" Liam never finished. He took a boot to the stomach and began to cough. It was clearly painful.
I spun on my knees, lifting my gaze to the man that hovered right over me. He had waited till my back was to him to advance on me. A knife glistened underneath the suite lights as he twirled it – almost expertly – in his grasp. His facial features were now hidden behind the hood he had thrown on his head and that was when it hit me. He was the same man that I had run into at the mall, the same one that wanted to kill me.
He was quick. I hardly had time to scramble away, to give myself even the slightest barrier between us, when he reached out and grabbed me. His arm went around my throat as he pulled me up against him, keeping me trapped. I kicked and squirmed, using my hands to try and un-pry his arm from its uncomfortably tight grip around my neck. I froze for only a second when I felt cool metal press against my cheek.
I didn't think it was possible, but his voice was cooler than the knife that was threatening to break skin, "Stop moving."
I made eye contact with Liam and decided to obey my captor's commands, simply because the only other person on my side nodded. Liam mouthed, "Obey," so I did.
"Don't hurt her," Liam spoke up. He didn't address the two men who held their own guns against his head, but rather to the man who was casually drawing the sharp-end of the knife against my skin, as if he was etching an invisible symbol. I shuddered at the feeling.
"This isn't personal, Liam," the man stated. I froze as the knife was pressed even harder against my skin. I wince, "You know what I do for a living." The knife lifts from my cheek and I exhale, slightly relieved, "I signed a contract," he continues, "and she is my objective."
The muscle in Liam's jaw ticks as he leans forward, held back by a hand on his shoulder. I could see the muscles in his neck tighten as he strained a shout, "She is more than just a name on a list!" Luciano shakes his head, his eyes locked on the man he was speaking too, his gaze drifting just over my shoulder, "She's my friend."
I made a face.
I wasn't about to argue with him though. If that statement saved my life, then Liam and I could be the best of buddies for all I care.
"A friend?" the man questions, just like I was – internally.
"Yes," Liam confirms, "just like you are."
"We are not friends."
Liam's brow furrow as his gaze drifts between me and the man over my shoulder. His shoulders slump as he glances to his left, then right, eyeing where the other two intruders still stand. He crawls forward on his knees, a look in his eye that I can't quite discern.
"She's innocent..."
"So was I, once."
"Liam!" I struggle to yell his name as I'm lifted up off the floor and tugged against the man's chest. I claw at his forearm, I even dig my nails into his skin, but to no avail. He turns us in the direction of the door, our backs were now facing Liam. I continued to struggle, to try and break free, "Liam."
"Corinelli told me that he wanted her alive rather than dead, last night." We stop walking and the man looks over his shoulder, "I'm not going to kill her. Not right now."
We were only a few steps from the door when Liam shouted out again.
"Grayson!"
The man dropped me.
I wasn't expecting to be freed, so I did nothing to break my fall. I cursed when I reached the floor, but I had no time to look over any injuries. I pushed myself up and scrambled away from the hooded figure, my eyes stayed on him the entire time. I massaged my neck as air freely flowed into my lungs.
He didn't respond to the name Liam shouted, to what I assumed was his name.
"Trust me," I heard Liam plead, "I'm going to need you to trust me." He nods in my direction, "That girl that you want to take, that you will eventually kill, that objective of yours is an innocent young woman who couldn't hurt a fly even if she tried."
Again, no response.
Luciano continues, "I've seen the names of men and women that you've killed, I've seen the list – the incredibly, ridiculously, long list. And everyone on that list deserved what they had coming for them. They were bad people, horrible people. She," Again, he nods towards me, "is not one of those people."
A ray of light struck the man as he tilted his head, exposing his expression underneath the dark hood. He looked, possibly perplexed?
"If anyone in this room deserves to die for what they've done, it's me," Liam adds somberly. The corner of one of his lips twitch upwards as he glances between I and Grayson, "I wouldn't advise killing me, however, considering that if you do, you'll have a few hundred soldiers hunting you down until they return the favor."
Grayson is silent as Liam concludes. "I know you signed a contract and I know how your job works. I know that if Corinelli finds out that you came in contact with your target and didn't apprehend them, he'd have your neck." He gives the other two men that work for Corinelli a glance, before continuing, "but I need you to do this for me. I'm going to need you to pull back and give me time to fix this entire situation, but I'm also going to need you to trust me."
Grayson turns toward me, his expression unreadable. I push myself against the wall and regulate my breathing.
He finally speaks through clenched teeth, "I trust no-one." He turns back to face Liam, "Trusting myself is even a little iffy."
The two men standing beside Liam finally find the time to join the conversation. The one on the left speaks up, "He's just trying to get up in your head, Fe—" a quick look from Grayson causes the man to alter his sentence, "—Fantasma. He clearly cares for the bitch. He's telling you this and the second we walk out this room, he's going to have us killed."
"Or worse," the other spoke up, "he'll tell our boss."
Grayson shifts his weight to another foot, his attention focusing on the trail of blood that was running out of Liam's nose, coating the crease between his two lips. "He'll tell your boss. I comply to Peter Corinelli's demands because he hired me temporarily. He is not, nor will he ever be able to control me."
"And exactly what do you think Mr. Luciano means when he claims that he will fix this situation?" the other man continued, shooting a glare in Liam's direction, "He'll probably try and kill us all, Peter included."
"I say we kill him and her," one of the captors suggest.
Grayson doesn't make a motion either way, "And how will you explain to Peter that you not only killed someone he wanted alive, but also murdered one of the most popular Italian mafia Don's in this decade?"
One man jams the barrel of his gun into Liam's temple, while the other stalks towards me. The man that reaches me replies with, "We could just say, oops."
The two men chuckle, while Liam, I, and Grayson didn't find any of it particularly hilarious.
"You're considering what Luciano said," the taller captor says, speaking to Grayson, "You hide underneath that hood, but you forget that we've been working with you for a while now," He abandons Liam's side, slowly, purposefully, striding towards the man he was speaking too. They were both the same height, around the same build, definitely a even fight if they did get into it. "We know how you work, Fantasma," There was the sound of a gun locking as he lifted the weapon to the man's forehead. "I say we tell Corinelli exactly what happened here tonight, Israel," the man shoots a glance at his partner, who's standing beside me, "The beloved and popular assassin decided he didn't want to work for us anymore and we had to put him down."
There was a pause, before the intruder questions to his soon-to-be ex-partner in crime, "Why are you grinning?"
"Oh," something in the form of a laugh escapes Grayson's lips, "I...honestly, I thought you were joking."
"Do I look like I'm fucking joking?" He jams the gun against Grayson's forehead, hard enough to cause the man to step back.
"Well, uh," he stutters, "no, I mean—"
He pushes Grayson back even more, a chuckle on his lips as his partner begins to cower. I couldn't understand how the man who spoke so confidently just a second ago actually appeared afraid.
"Hey, Jax," Israel, Corinelli's other man, speaks up, "maybe you should chill. We have the girl. If we get out of here now, we'll be back home in a couple of hours."
"And what do we do about him?" Jax slams Grayson against the wall, aims his gun at his forehead, and glances over his shoulder, "He so easily almost switched sides, what if he does it when we least expect it?"
Israel didn't have a verbal answer for his friend, just a shrug.
"Then he dies tonight," Jax levels his weapon and issues his final threat, "Go to hell."
With his back pressed against the wall, Grayson responds with, "I can't, Satan has a restraining order against me."
"Then enjoy your time in purgatory."
Grayson grins again.
"Stop. Fucking. Grinning."
He pushes himself away from the wall and steps towards Jax, towards the gun, seemingly unafraid. "You trust me just about as much as I trust myself," he begins, "And I don't. I don't trust myself." He uses his right hand to lower Jax's weapon. "I can't take any of your threats seriously because your gun isn't loaded." He glances to his right, to Israel, "Spoiler alert, neither is yours."
To the astonishment of Corinelli's men, Grayson reaches into the back pockets of his jeans and pulls out two clips of ammunition. He holds them up to the light, "I think this one is yours," he says to Jax, while shaking the other one in Israel's direction, "and I'm pretty sure this one is yours," he pauses momentarily, then crosses his arms, "wait, no, or is this one yours, and that one his?" He pauses again, "Wait, I got it!"
I stifled a laugh.
"You son-of-a—" Jax throws an uncoordinated punch, one that was expected. Grayson ducks, grabs the man's arm, and bends over, using momentum to his advantage and flipping Jax over his shoulder, landing his hard on the ground. He managed to pry the unloaded weapon out of the man's hand and in a matter of seconds, he loaded the clip, pressed a foot to the man's throat, silently applied the suppressor to the end of the gun, then – and only then – did he fire.
Liam cracked a smile, speaking softly, "Was the suppressor really necessary?"
Grayson sounded like the typical Wattpad female protagonist by popping the 'P' when he said, "Nope!"
I hardly had time to blink before a dagger impaled Israel's throat. He stumbled away from me and fell, dead.
I inhaled sharply, "Good aim?"
He gives me a look, "Women usually tell me that in bed, after I shoot my—"
Liam clears his throat, gaining both, Grayson and I's attention. He looks to me first, "You okay?"
I nod, "Bruises, but I'll survive."
Then he looks to Grayson, "Thank you."
I watch him pull the hood off of his head. He looked young, certainly younger than Liam. His eyes drift over to me, before back to Luciano.
"Why are you thanking me?"
Liam glares, "You know what you just did."
Grayson appears to dodge any sort of eye contact that lasted more than three seconds. He nods and turns from us, "Corinelli still believes I'm working for him. I'll stall for as long as I can, but whatever your going to do to fix this, you better do it quickly."
"Something tells me I'm going to need help."
A cellphone begins to chirp. It certainly wasn't mine, causing my attention to drift between Liam and Grayson. The assassin sighs and pulls out his phone, muttering, "Speak of the devil," as he answers. He taps another button and the sound of a male voice flows through the room.
"De S—" Grayson muffles the speaker as Peter Corinelli comes through loud and clear with his introduction, "Did you find Liam Luciano and the girl?"
"No, Sir," he lies as he stares at both of us, "I haven't laid eyes on them since the mall."
"I've been trying to get in contact with Jaxon and Israel, but their phones are off. Where are they?"
Grayson sways, "They ran into a little trouble."
You could hear the anger rising in Corinelli's voice, "What kind of trouble, exactly?"
"Israel, might've, might've not had a little accident with my dagger—"
"And Jax?"
Grayson hesitates.
"Fantasma, and Jaxon?"
"He ran into a bullet."
"That's not fucking possible—"
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't believe the story if I told you S—" Grayson is cut off as the dial-tone echoes throughout the room, "Sir? You there?" He hangs up and looks to Liam.
"You want me to trust you?" He starts, "Then you're going to need to trust me. Get out of Bora Bora. I can't continue to lie to Corinelli, he has tabs on your location and if he finds out that you're still in Bora Bora, he's going to send more men after you and it's highly likely that they won't be...acquaintances...of yours. "
Liam nods in agreement, "We'll leave first thing in the morning."
"Where too?" was my question.
"California," Luciano stands and sways for just a second, clearly unsteady on his feet.
Grayson spins away from us, "I didn't hear that."
Liam just chuckles, "No, you didn't."
His friend with excellent aim turns back to us as he marches out the room, backwards. He points to the dead bodies of Jaxon and Israel, "Clean those up for me?"
I snort as Liam chokes on a laugh, "Yeah," he responds sarcastically, "I'll just call housekeeping."
Grayson and I make eye contact as he nods in Liam's general direction, "What a babe."
I face Liam and take a step forward, "So, what's in California?"
"My parents."
- - -
a/n: chapter 9 was completely rewritten and I absolutely love how it turned out. Please refrain from posting spoilers for those who have yet to read. Thank you.
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