Fighting With Light (The Coldwell Brothers #2)

16. Aelia

16

Aelia

I knew Liam was charming, but the real Liam, the one who is looking at me right now with a light in his eyes, a tinge of…darkness, and a whole lot of longing makes the butterflies in my stomach explode in a fury. They’ve been swarming since he looked up from his computer when I stepped into his office. The Dirty Dancing nod did me in. I didn’t even want to bother with dinner. But Liam, being the gentleman and athlete he is, said food first. Not that I expect anything when we go home.

After I volleyed questions to him about his career, he started asking me about what I’m into and that felt good. When I go out with most men, they ask me basic questions because it’s a quick situation, it’s not a heartfelt connection. Liam looks around the restaurant, continuing to scan for threats, yet he still looks at me like I’m the only one in the room.

For the first time, I feel like maybe my way of doing things was…useless. I’ve come to the conclusion in this moment that I’ve wasted my time with every single man I’ve met. I gave them a piece of me they did nothing to deserve.

But sitting here with Liam, he wants to hear what I have to say. He wants to know what I’m interested in and why I hate the life I was born into. Very few people understand what that is like and he is someone who does. Though he’s the son of a corrupt congressman who works with my mobster father, our worlds aren’t that different—neither of us are within the law.

“How is your wine?” he asks. I hum and take another sip, and he stares back unabashedly. My heart beats harder and my blood feels like it’s moving a little faster through my veins, like a race car on a track .

Based on the way he handled kidnapping and interrogating me, it was obvious he had done that before. But what makes it clear to me is his willingness to risk everything for answers at the expense of himself for his family. Ben could have come in that night when Liam gave me that wine and shot him in the head, not knowing what was going on. His death would have been a waste and the thought of that makes my heart feel like it’s exploding, shredding the butterflies flying around in my stomach.

Liam Coldwell is a trained killer. He doesn’t have to tell me. I know how they walk, talk, and act. I’ve been around them my whole life and my brothers are the same way. It doesn’t bother me, though. He’s this way for a reason. That’s one part of his story I’m dying to ask about. We haven’t known each other that long, but I’m sure it’s a conversation that’s by no means appropriate for the setting.

He hands the waiter his black card to pay the bill. “Did you enjoy your dinner?” he asks.

I nod again.

He smiles softly and the place between his eyebrows crinkles. “Why are you so quiet?”

I take my glass, pouring the last bit of delicious wine down my throat. “I’ve been thinking,” I tell him. A moment later, the receipt is brought back. Liam signs it, drops a hundred euros on the table, and holds his hand out for me. I take it and don’t let go until I’m seated in the car, and he’s closing the door.

He jumps in the Porsche and takes off, driving it like it’s a go-kart. “Are you going to tell me what you’ve been thinking about?” he asks me before returning to the dark road ahead of us.

The anticipation is so thick in the car it’s almost hard to breathe. “I was thinking about a lot of things. But I was mainly thinking about you.”

He chuckles and the tone sizzles down my spine. “Do I occupy your thoughts that much, princess?”

I stare at his dark profile, wondering if I should ask this question, but we’re both stuck in the car; there’s nowhere for him to run.

“We’ve talked about the things you do, but why is Liam Coldwell the way he is?” I ask .

His jaw ticks and his hand tightens over the supple leather steering wheel.

“Why would you want to know anything about that?” His muscles tense and he won’t look at me.

“Because I want to know you, Liam. I know you didn’t learn to tie people up and interrogate them from a BDSM class.”

The corner of his mouth tips up. “Is that something you’re interested in? Maybe we could take a class together,” he says.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” I command.

He groans and I feel the car speed up.

I’m not worried about it because I find myself trusting him more and more and that is very stupid. It feels like I’m walking through a field of landmines and another one could explode at any second. My father, his, anyone could end this in the blink of an eye.

“Speaking of changing the subject, has Ben contacted you?” Liam asks.

I sigh, annoyed. “Yes, he’s texted me every day and I told him I’m fine.”

“I’m sure he didn’t like that.”

“No, he doesn’t, and I know he’s going to find us. In fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t yet.” Liam glances at the rearview mirror and changes lanes. “Answer me, Liam.”

“I don’t want to talk about my past. Don’t you know enough?”

“ Enough and all are two different things.” I can tell it’s painful for him to talk about and I don’t intend to make him relive things he wants to leave in the past, but I would like to know how a son of a congressman, who lives a thousand miles away from him, is a professional athlete and well versed in other skills that men in my world commonly train for.

“My mom wanted us to be able to protect ourselves because she knew who your father was, and she knew mine was working with him. She figured it was only a matter of time until my father pissed off yours enough that he would come after us.”

I accept the answer even though it makes my dinner want to come back up. My father is ruthless, and there is no doubt in my mind he would go after a woman and her children .

“We didn’t have friends, we had each other. She brought in…trainers to teach us to protect ourselves. Mom wanted us to learn a sport so we could get involved in something and make friends. My assumption is she was worried we would become unruly, savage boys who didn’t know how to communicate with normal people. I picked surfing, but I also got into rock climbing. I didn’t bother with college, it was difficult to finish my GED. As for computers, I’ve been interested in them since I was young and taught myself almost everything I know. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he asks.

“You really were trained for this,” I say, surprised. His shoulder lifts and he glances at the rearview mirror again. Then presses harder on the acceleration.

“Someone is following us,” he mutters and switches lanes again.

I glance behind us and don’t see anything, then another car comes speeding towards ours. Adrenaline shoots through me and fear ices my veins. We don’t have guns. We have a fast car, my knife, and Liam’s fists. There is a reason they say not to bring a knife to a gunfight.

Liam switches lanes again and begins weaving in and out of traffic, trying to lose our tail. It’s a large, black SUV and it’s so dark I can’t see who’s driving. The SUV gains on us.

“Liam,” I gasp.

“I know,” he grunts and switches lanes again. He maneuvers the car around a semi and, at the last second, takes the off-ramp. Liam speeds up the ramp and yanks the emergency brake, drifting the car to make us go right down a dark road. He pushes the brake down and speeds off into the night. We’re surrounded by farm fields and nothing is visible within miles. We keep driving at a breakneck speed down the straight road. Then he slows down, constantly checking his rearview. With nothing behind us, he turns onto another road with fields on either side and skids to a stop.

His chest moves up and down, attempting to catch his breath while his hands are still tightened around the steering wheel. I remain quiet. I’ve been in too many situations like this and I learned to keep my mouth shut.

“Are you okay, princess?” Liam asks me.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I rasp .

He releases the wheel and turns to look at me. His eyes skate all over my body, checking me. I nod and he relaxes a little at my silent I’m okay. He takes a large, deep breath, and the car is so snug I feel it on my cheek. Then he surprises me by grasping the back of my neck, smashing our mouths together so hard my lips bruise. The kiss melts me from the inside. It ignites a fresh dose of adrenaline in my veins as he rips his mouth away.

“Good?” he asks again.

I nod, dazed.

He swings the car around, doubling back the way we came. No one else is on the road as we drive down the dark street, but then an SUV with bright lights surprises Liam, cutting in front of us, forcing him to slam on the brakes. The smell of rubber wafts into my nose and he looks between me and the SUV.

“Aelia, take your shoes off and give me your phone.”

I startle at the odd request. I give him my phone and he opens it, typing in a phone number. Frozen in my seat, I don’t take my shoes off like he commanded.

“Call this number. It’s my brother, Emerson. I want you to run and he will find you. Don’t stop for anything. Find a place to hide and wait until Emerson can come and get you.”

A car door opens and I glance at it.

Liam grabs my chin, forcing my eyes on his. “Do you understand me?” he asks.

I nod.

“Can you reach into the glove compartment and grab my knife?”

I slip my hand into the little compartment and pull out a switchblade.

“You run , don’t stop, and don’t look back.”

I nod again and he brushes a tear from my cheek I didn’t realize had fallen. I didn’t even know I was crying.

“I really wish this was different,” he says, almost as if he’s resigned to the fact that he’s going to die tonight. I shake my head. He presses a kiss on my forehead.

“No, no, I’m not leaving you, absolutely not. I’m—”

“Aelia, we can’t move faster than bullets,” he says.

I shake my head again .

“No, but you can turn this car around and drive us away.” He looks at me and the road behind us. It would have to be so fast and bullets can fly faster than cars. Bullets can put holes in tires, too. Liam’s eyes flick to my side and I turn to see a man walking towards us. Liam tenses as the man comes to my side of the car.

“Maybe they are here for me, maybe I can—”

A knuckle knocks on the window and I can see who it is.

Ben .