Fighting With Light (The Coldwell Brothers #2)

31. Liam

31

Liam

Four Months Ago

We’re at Mom’s house in the basement and the room we’re in is starting to smell. A man tried to attack Emerson and we’re interrogating him. Mom is upstairs healing and we didn’t tell Kai about this one. He’s busy with Cordi and Theo. Of all of us, I’m glad he gets to be a dad. He’s a good man, and I’m glad he finally got his head out of his ass and married Cordelia. The circumstances pushed them to it, but it worked out in the end.

I’ve thought about what kind of father I would be, but the thought scares me because I don’t think I would ever be good enough for my kid. I think I’d be too afraid of messing them up because I’m too busy trying to keep them from all the darkness within me. The last thing I would want to do is corrupt an innocent. As for Emerson, I’m not so sure he even wants to hear the word Dad directed at him.

Our captive peed himself and I wish we got an air filtration system, or air freshener because it’s gross. Emerson beat him up pretty badly, so he is sporting a black eye and broken ankle.

I smile at the man. He thought he had Emerson.

You could hold a gun to Emerson’s head, and he would tell you to do it. My only concern is that one day someone will actually do it. I don’t want to lose my brothers or my family. It’s not just us anymore, our family has grown, and we all have more to lose. It just means we have to fight harder and get a lot more bloody to protect it.

“I swear I was just trying to rob you, man! I won’t do it again ever!” the man yells.

I chuckle behind the shadow I’m standing in. His head snaps towards me, but I know he can barely see me with his eye and the lighting doesn’t help. I like messing with them this way. It’s the psychological aspect that makes them worry. Man can take a lot of pain, but when you combine it with the mental, then you can get them to sing. The brain is a convincing thing.

“We know that’s not true. So why don’t you just make this easier on all of us? Tell us why you came for Emerson, and anything else you were told, and we will make this quick. I have things to do and wasting my time on you is not one of them.”

The man is silent as he looks up at Emerson, who stands like a breathing statue to the side within eyesight. One can be terrifying when he wants to be, but I know my big brother cares so much, so deeply, that he will be whatever he needs to become to protect our family.

In other words, I think he’s softer than we think he is. He just wears armor so thick and impenetrable most people would never know.

Also, he’s quite terrifying in those underground fights. I go to watch him there as often as I can. I know I should tell him to stop, but my brothers and I are all the same. When someone tells us we can’t, we do.

No was beaten out of our vocabulary.

I have a running tally in my head of which one of us is the most messed up, and I thought I was winning, but tonight One just got another point. He’s pissed, and it’s not just because someone held a gun to his head, he’s been there done that. Something else is going on, but I doubt he will tell any of us unless he has to.

“Fine, have it your way,” I sigh and reach for a large, serrated knife. “I like this one, the teeth are so fine you can saw through bone. It takes some elbow grease, but it can be done.” As I step into the light, his eyes widen. I know I don’t look scary, but looks are deceiving. Sometimes, monsters are beautiful.

My phone dings and I pull it out of my pocket, handing it to One. I ran a background on the guy’s likely fake ID. It had his picture, so I was able to run facial recognition software I developed and apparently, it worked. Emerson takes a step back and scrolls on my screen.

“You know, I think I’d like to get a closer look at how this knife goes through bone. Usually, there’s so much blood you can’t see it work, but a finger shouldn’t be that bad.”

The man wiggles in his seat, trying to release himself. Hey, I get it. It’s a body’s natural instinct to fight or fly away.

I lean over the arm of the chair and try to pull a finger out of his fisted hand. “Don’t worry, I can do the middle finger first. That way, you can’t flip us off.”

He struggles more and I chuckle, digging the point of the knife between his fingers. Small cuts start to bleed and the man bursts into tears.

“Please, please don’t do this.”

“Then talk, dumbass,” I mumble and turn around to grab another knife.

He looks at me and the two in my hands.

“Last chance.” I smile.

His body starts shaking violently.

“Man, you’re scared just to lose a finger? Trust me, it will get much worse if you don’t talk. Now, I know this isn’t war per se, and I have to abide by the Geneva Convention, but I have some ideas. So I won’t tell if you don’t.” I grin and shoot him a wink. I lift the knife, planning on driving it through his hand, and then I pause. “Oh wait, I forgot my goggles. Safety first!” I grab a pair of safety goggles and slide them over my eyes.

“Ready? Okay!” I cheer and slam the tip of the knife through the top of his hand. It would take quite a while to bleed out from something like this, but what makes it so painful is the fact that the hand has bones, muscles, tendons, and nerves tightly wound together. So when a knife goes through all of that, it hurts .

The man screams and his voice breaks the sound, turning shrill.

“Three,” Emerson grunts.

He steps back out of the light and I join him. “What’s up?”

“His name is Emelio Bernardo, but there’s nothing here. No passport, no speeding tickets. I think that’s his real name, but I don’t think he lives here.”

I shrug. “So we just need to know where he’s from then. I can do that. ”

“Alright, Emilio. We have your name, but I would like you to tell me where you’re from. Someone with lots of money got you here clean like this, so start talking.”

He lifts his head as silent tears pour over his cheekbones. “Go to hell,” he grits through his teeth.

“No, I’m good right here with you. So where are you from?” I ask, drawing the serrated knife over his fingers.

“Why?” Emilio asks.

“Oh, so now you’re asking the questions?”

He lifts a shoulder on his other arm. It seems like he grew a pair since I stabbed the knife in his hand. Interesting.

“Fine, one for one. I’m asking because I would like to know why you came all the way here to point a gun at my brother and not expect to have your face beaten in or a bullet enter your head.”

“My boss sent me,” he grits out. His fingers twitch a little, splayed over the arm of the chair with the knife in it. Blood is pooling on the top of his hand and starting to run little red rivers over the top.

“Who is your boss?” I ask him.

“Who is yours?” he asks.

I tilt my head. “Why does it matter? It’s not like you’ll be able to tell anyone that information.”

He shrugs and winces. “I don’t know. Call it curiosity.”

“Fine, I don’t have a boss. Your turn!” I say brightly.

“A boss in Portugal talked to mine, and they sent me. I don’t know why. I was just given the target.”

“So you’re not from Portugal. That leaves a lot more questions for me, and I don’t think you’re going to enjoy answering them.”

He grunts as I slide the knife out of his hand, and slice through the tip of his finger. The knife is so sharp it’s almost like cutting butter. “You’re running out of fingers, which means you’re running out of time,” I sing-song.

“My boss is Tommy Cameron,” he says with defeat coating his voice. I pull the knife away and he takes a struggled, deep breath.

“As in Tommy Cameron of the British Mafia?” Emerson asks. Emilio nods. Huh, this just keeps getting better.

“Why? We have no business with him or someone in Portugal?” Emerson asks.

***

As much as I would like to think doing those things hasn’t changed me, it has. I’ve done everything from threatening to cut out organs to, well…cutting them out. The dirty work doesn’t bother me. I’m okay with spilling blood to get answers to protect my family. I choose to rip back control for us with my bloody hands, but I don’t know that it will ever end. If that’s the case, who will I become? Certainly not someone worthy of Aelia.

“Liam?” Aelia bumps my shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?”

I look back at Aelia and realize this has been a long, drawn-out game. We just didn’t have enough of the pieces to create the picture. “Do you know Tommy Cameron?” I ask her.

She frowns and tilts her head. “He’s that asshole in England. I don’t like him, but my dad has done a few things with him, I think. But it’s not a normal occurrence to my knowledge. Why?”

“A few months ago, before I came to Bali, a man pulled a gun on my brother.”

Her eyes widen.

“Long story short, we found out that someone in Portugal talked to Tommy Cameron, and Tommy Cameron sent…crap, what was his name?” I snap my fingers, trying to recall. Names have never been my strong suit. “Oh, Emelio Bernardo, does that ring a bell?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Well, I just remembered he mentioned Portugal and maybe…”

“My father talked to Ferreira, who called the hit on your brother,” she says.

“I mean…it’s possible,” I mutter. She shifts on her feet. “It wouldn’t surprise me,” she whispers, looking down at her feet. “I’m sorry, Liam. ”

I huff a laugh and grab the back of her neck. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for.”

She smiles at me, but doesn’t seem to agree. “Are we going to climb this rock or not?” she asks. “Yep, did you plot your route?”

She nods, still looking at the route.

“Do you want to go over it with me?” I ask.

“Nope, I’m ready,” she says.

“Okay then, let’s get you harnessed up. But first, I have to go attach this rope.” She looks up between me and the rock face we are about to climb. I stoop down and pull my harness on, tightening it, then grab my large bag of chalk, buckling it around my waist. I dip my hands in it to cover my skin and clap off the excess. Then I grab both lengths of rope and hook them over my shoulder.

“Wait. What are you doing?” Aelia asks.

I smile and wink at her, stepping up to the rock. I love a good climb. It’s been a while since I’ve been here, so I don’t totally remember what I did.

“Wait! No! Liam, you can’t climb without a rope!” she says, out of breath.

I chuckle, grab her chin and kiss her quickly, leaving chalk marks on her skin before taking my first hold.

“Why can’t you just…I don’t know, go around and walk up the mountain?” she yells. Smiling to myself, I take the next hold the rope is in the way, but I can deal.

“Because that takes too long!” I yell and go back to climbing. I realize I’m being stupid and could hurt or kill myself because I’m soloing a climb sans the rope. But damn, does it feel good. That shot of adrenaline helps me to focus on one hold after the other. I brought two ropes with me so I can loop one at the top and then tie a backup for Aelia if the first one fails.

Some grabs are a bit tricky, but it’s a pretty simple route for me. I haven’t been climbing in so long I’ve missed it. I’m lucky I have Aelia who is down for the adventure. She has become an adventure herself, and I find myself wishing that it never ends.

About twenty-five minutes later, I hit the top where a steel loop was drilled into the ground by large bolts. It’s meant for this exact thing. Looping the rope through the ring, I pull on it as hard as I can, and it doesn’t budge. I toss one length of the rope over the edge and get myself knotted to the other. Then I make sure the safety rope is in place through another ring, and properly knotted by checking it twice.

Stepping to the edge, I look down at Aelia, who is looking up at me. “Coming down!” I shout. Placing my feet in the right position, I turn around, holding on to the other length, and rappel down the side.

I drop to my feet, and Aelia throws herself into my arms. “Please never do that again. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

Chuckling, I kiss the top of her head. “That’s part of the fun, though,” I mutter.

She pushes me away and glares at me before punching me in the arm. I wince and rub the spot. The woman knows how to throw a punch. “I’m serious, Liam! That was insane! For no reason at all other than showing off to…I don’t know, impress me ?” she yells.

I grin and hold out my arms. “Did it work?”

She groans frustrated and rolls her eyes. “You are so stupid and insane…but yeah, that was cool,” she says her last few words quietly, not making eye contact.

Reaching for her wrist, I tug her back into me and she lays her head on my chest.

“If you don’t have to risk your life like that again, please don’t,” she mutters.

Something weird happens in my chest. It’s like her words struck a fire and everything feels warm, as if my heart is being fused back together. My arms tighten around her, and I kiss the top of her head. “Okay, princess. I won’t.”

She rubs her cheek against me. “Good,” she says and takes a step back, subtly swiping her cheek. “Okay, get me hooked up. I want to go.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I unhook myself and go back to our pack to pull out her harness and another bag of chalk. Holding out the harness for her to step into, she takes my shoulders for balance and slips her feet through the holes. I pull it up to her hips and start tightening the belt around her waist. I check the place where she will be hooked to me by tugging on the loop hard and she falls into me. “Sorry, just checking.” I smile .

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she says, not remotely convinced. Walking back to right below her starting point, I get her rope looped in and then check it three times. I check the safety and then her main rope again. I attach the hook to her safety rope and then check that three times.

“Do you need to check my sports bra, too?” she quips.

I slap her butt as an answer and check her chalk bag, making sure she has enough. “You’re precious cargo, princess. I have to be extra careful with you.”

She rolls her eyes and pins her lips together, trying to hide that beautiful smile.

After double-checking that I’m hooked up with the other end of the rope looped through my harness, we’re good to go. “Whenever you’re ready,” I tell her. That’s not technically the correct way to start climbing, but I’m right here, and I’m ready to take her weight.

She looks up one more time, then nods to herself as she takes her first hold. She gets up about ten feet, and I can tell she’s tired. “Keep your feet on the rock and lean back like you’re going to sit in a chair to rest for a minute. I’ve got you.”

Aelia looks down.

“It’s okay,” I encourage her.

She slowly moves back as if to sit in a chair. I adjust my rope and use my weight as a counterbalance. When I was in Bali, there were a few guys that climbed who had to be at least my weight or over two hundred pounds. Some weren’t even fat, they were just giant dudes. Those were teeth gritters because if they did fall on the easiest climbs in the world, I knew I’d have one hell of a time not being launched into space or slicing my hands open with the rope trying to catch them. Aelia is a walk in the park.

She shifts and goes back to the hold she was resting from. “You good?” I yell up at her.

“Yeah,” she yells back. I keep my eyes on her, hoping she takes each hold that she should. She struggles a little toward the left end of the climb, where the rocks get a bit tricky and require lots of crimping.

She takes another hold and moves her foot and I knew it was the wrong one before she tried to put her foot there. As I watch her slip from the foothold and grab onto whatever she can reach, the world slows down. My hands tighten more around the rope holding onto her weight. I can barely see her wide eyes as her feet shuffle around to find a place to stick them.

The panic rises in my chest and I force it down as far as it will go. I have a good hold on her. I know what I’m doing. Everything is okay. Not much scares me these days, but I have to admit that was terrifying.

“Aelia,” I yell. She doesn’t answer right away and I almost tell her to come down immediately, thinking she hurt herself.

“I’m good! I’m going to keep climbing,” she yells.

I shake my head, smiling. She is something else. Aelia moves close to where she fell and picks a different foothold before bypassing the section she struggled on. “Yeah! That’s it!!” I shout. I whoop and I hope it’s encouraging for her as she takes her next steps.

We had to rest a few more times, but about an hour later, Aelia reached the top. She rappels down the side. The moment her feet hit the ground, I pick her up, spinning her around.

“You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you.” I grin and kiss her sweaty cheek.

She puffs out a breath and wipes her brow, getting dirt on her forehead. “I’m not going to lie. I wanted to quit a few times because that was hard. ”

“That’s what she said,” I mumble.

She gives me a look and pushes me back. “Really?”

I shrug bashfully.

“Sometimes, I swear you are a teenage boy living inside a grown man’s body.”

I laugh and tug her to me. “You weren’t complaining the other night about this grown man’s body.”

She rolls her eyes, but the corner of her mouth tips up. “You are ridiculous.”

“But you love it,” I quip and then realize what I said.

She stops blinking and freezes in my hold.

I cough and release her, grabbing some water and the snacks I had the resort pack for us. “Do you want a snack?”

She blinks a few times. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good. ”

I grab the food from a pocket, and she sighs, looking at her hands. I spot a few blisters that will hurt tomorrow, but she’s otherwise unscathed. “My hands hurt,” she sighs.

I grab one and inspect it, rubbing my thumb gently over the blister. “These are the worst, the little blisters that don’t look that bad but if you climb again, they will probably burst and it hurts like the dickens every time you use that hand. One climb I did back in the States at Joshua Tree, I busted a couple of blisters, and by the time I was done, blood was dripping off my fingers. It was as if I fought the rock in hand-to-hand combat.”

“Why didn’t you just stop climbing?” she asks.

I smile and grab her other hand to look at it. It’s not that bad, it might be sore in the morning.

“Because you don’t stop when it gets hard, you keep going, you ignore the pain, and finish the puzzle.”

“That seems a little masochistic,” she mumbles.

I throw my head back, laughing. “Pain and pleasure go hand in hand, right, princess?”

She purses her lips and lifts a shoulder .

“Don’t get all proper on me now,” I say, grabbing the front loop of her harness. “I’m joking…mostly. But really it’s because I couldn’t stop. I had already come so far, and I wasn’t about to let broken blisters stop me from finishing. It was one of those climbs that got me to the same level of climbing as the professionals. Climbing magazines and other professional climbers were watching and I couldn’t fail, but most of all, I didn’t want to fail myself. I’d been training for it, and I wasn’t about to go down easily.”

She flips her hand so we’re holding each other’s. “I respect that.”

“You did great, you scared the shit out of me once, but for a beginner, you’re a natural,” I tell her and sit down on the ground.

She plops down next to me and leans back with her elbows propping her up. “I swear I almost pooped my pants, but it was fun,” she says, smiling with a wild look in her eyes.

“Uh-oh, you caught the bug.”

“The bug?”

I chuckle, taking a bite of the protein bar I found in my bag. “Yeah, the rock climbing bug. I got it when I was a kid and here I am.”

She bumps her shoulder to mine and grabs the protein bar from my hand, takes a big bite, then sets it back between my fingers. “Yeah, I’d do it again.”

I stare at her, mesmerized, which is ridiculous because very few things hold my attention like she does. She’s so adventurous and maybe even a bit of an adrenaline junkie like myself.

“Hey, we passed a waterfall coming up here…do you think we could cliff jump off of it?” she asks.

See? Adrenaline junkie. “Umm, I’m not sure, I don’t know how deep it is.”

She grabs a water bottle and takes a large drink. “Let’s go find out if you’re done here,” she says, looking back at the wall she just climbed.

“Yeah, sure, let me get packed up.”