Liam: Branded Brothers (21 page)

With her bag slung over her
shoulder, Charla sat on the curb with the Copper Leaf Hotel behind her and
watched Liam jog across the street. He’d dropped her Corolla off a few blocks
over in a residential area. She wasn’t sure if the man had seen her car or had
taken note of her license plate, but she wasn’t going to take any chances.

She admired Liam as he walked toward her through the parking
lot - the way his broad shoulders cut into a V near his waist and the way his
arms flexed with every swing. She could see how he was able to coerce his
clients. He moved like he wouldn’t take shit from anybody. She hoped like hell
it was enough against the mafia.

The mafia.

She couldn’t believe the words were even floating in her
head. How had she come to this point? Two weeks ago, she was reminding a man
with Alzheimer’s to put on his pants and to stay away from the stove. She was
making his coffee and holding his hand. Had she known Jack’s death was going to
bring her face-to-face with the mafia, she never would have answered his ad. But
that also would mean she would have never met Liam. At least there was a silver
lining in this whole ordeal. She sighed and stood up.

“All good?” she asked.

“All good,” he confirmed, handing her the keys. He scanned
the parking lot and then put his arm around her waist, guiding her to the side
entrance of the hotel. “Car’s on Park Street. It should be good for a while. At
least for as long as we need it to be. We’ll get him in the next twenty-four
hours.”

“God, I hope so,” she replied, walking through the door as
he held it for her. “I don’t know how long I can handle this shit.”

“Second floor.” He pointed to the stairs. “Wanted to get off
ground level.”

“Whatever you think.” She walked up the stairs first,
feeling Liam’s eyes on her again. She stopped and turned to see him dart his
eyes up to meet hers at the last second. “I see what you’re doing now with this
whole taking the stairs thing.”

“Safety,” he replied with a smile. “It’s safer to be off the
ground level.”

“Sure it is.” She laughed and continued walking, giving her
hips an extra shake. He reached out and put his hand on her hip, letting out a
low sound from the back of his throat.

“You can’t keep doing this to me,” he complained as they hit
the landing and ventured down the hallway to their room.

“I’m not doing anything.” She shook her head and leaned
against the wall as Liam slid the card into the door.

“After you.” He held the door open as she ducked underneath
his arm. She wasn’t used to having the door opened for her all the time; it was
another thing she could definitely get used to with Liam. She threw her bag on
the only bed in the room.

“I see you opted for the king-sized bed only,” she said
playfully. “Any reason for that?”

“It’s a stakeout room,” he replied, the door clicking shut
behind them. He walked to the window, surveyed the view of The Blarney Stone
across the street, and then closed the curtains with a quick sweep. “We didn’t
need an extra bed.”

“I thought I was staying here,” she said, flicking on a
lamp.

“I changed my mind.” He walked toward her, his face
illuminated by the light. “We’re both staying at my place tonight.”

“Then why are we here?” she asked, her breath caught in her
throat as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight into him.
She grazed her fingers along his chest.

“I wanted to check out the view to make sure we could see
the bar. I want to be set for tonight,” he said, lowering his hand onto her
butt. He gave it a light squeeze.

“So, are you set?” she breathed, moving her hands to his
lower back. She could feel the ridges beneath his shirt.

“Not yet, one last thing to do,” he said as he bent down and
pressed his lips into hers. They moved their lips against each other
frantically, the heat passing between them with passionate kisses. He pulled
her in tighter, their bodies pressed against each other as he explored her
mouth.

She let out a soft moan before pulling away just enough to
whisper, “I have to shower.”

“Good,” he said. “I’ll join you.”

She lifted up his shirt and ran her fingers along his bare
chest, tracing the outlines of his tattoos. He stood there patiently with his
hands on her hips, letting her explore the ink. She marveled once again at the
artistry and the intricacy of the designs. Then she ran her finger along the
edge of his pants, playfully grabbing at his boxer briefs.

He lifted her shirt over her head and let out a moan at the
sight of her lace bra. He played with the straps, tucking his fingers beneath
them and pulling them down. He kissed the tops of her breasts lightly at first
and then faster, running his tongue along the top of her bra. She unhooked it
for him, feeling her nipples harden with the graze of his tongue. Then he
pulled at her jean shorts, unbuttoning and tugging them gently down over her
hips. He moaned and gently squeezed her bare ass.

“You didn’t tell me you weren’t wearing any underwear,” he
accused.

“You never asked,” she replied with a smile. Then they were
both tugging at his pants and underwear until they were both standing naked in
the room, their clothes piled beneath their feet. He dug into his pants and
retrieved a condom. Then they pressed against each other, kissing, while they
moved slowly into the bathroom. He tossed the condom on the vanity to take full
advantage of both hands. He pressed her against the door, running his hands all
along her skin, touching every sensitive spot. She moaned when he lifted her up
and grabbed her legs. Then she wrapped them around his waist, her body aching
for him.

“Charla,” he groaned, pressing himself against her.

“The shower,” she whispered. He begrudgingly lowered her
legs, pressed his lips against hers one last time, and then moved to turn on
the shower. The shower head spurted with water as he hurried back to her and
bent down to swallow her lips again. He picked her up gently and moved her into
the shower just as steam began to form around the head.

The hot water splashed against Charla’s skin as Liam ran his
fingers along her slick breasts. He pinched her nipples lightly, sending a
flood of warmth through her legs. Their lips found each other again, pushing
and moving against each other with passion.

“Charla,” he moaned. “I need you to be mine. All mine.”

“I’m yours,” she whispered.

“No one else will lay a finger on you, I promise,” he said,
cupping her chin gently. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“I know,” she whispered, feeling the comfort of his words
wrap around her. “Just tell me what you need me to do. Tell me how I can help
you.”

“Well, right now, I need to be inside of you.” He bent down
and met her mouth, their lips wet against each other.

“I can do that,” she whispered as she reached her hand out
of the shower for the condom on the vanity. As she slipped it on, he pressed
his hand against the side of the shower and let out another moan. Then he
picked her up gently and moved her to the other side of the shower and pressed
her back against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and guided him
in. He rocked into her, each pulse sending her into deeper pleasure. Charla
gasped as he sent waves of pleasure through her body, pulling her deeper
inside. He moaned as he let out one last pulse and then rested his forehead
against her shoulder.

The steam swirled around them as she lowered her legs and
planted a soft kiss on his lips.

“Charla…” he said with his eyes closed.

“I know,” she replied, running her fingers along his chest.
“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I’m going to get Mickey McGrath and his crew.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I know.”

Chapter 12

Charla sat on the edge of Liam’s bed
and watched him work the lock on the tall black box next to his bed. He swung
open the door to reveal an arsenal of weapons set perfectly in their place
holders. He reached inside to pull out a black handgun and examined it before
setting it down on the bed. Then he pulled out a box of bullets and opened them
before setting them next to the gun.

“You really need all those?” she asked, pulling her leg up
on the bed. He laughed. “You sound like Jerry.”

“So what is that?” She pointed to the handgun on the bed.
From what she could tell, it looked similar to the gun the man had at the
cottage.

“This?” He picked up the gun and cradled it in his hand as
if he was handling a baby. “This is a Glock 22. It’s my go-to gun. I carry it
on every bounty run I do. Most police officers in Blackwell carry something
like this because it’s accurate and leaves little mess.”

She wrapped her arms around her body, shuddering at the
thought of the man leaving a little
mess
of her at the cottage. “I never
thought about it that way. You know, leaving a little mess.”

“It’s just clean,” he replied, his eyes softening as he
turned toward her. “Did he have something like this?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she said softly. “He never took it out
of his holster so I’m not exactly sure. I guess they all look the same to me.”

“Charla, if you want to go in the other room, I understand.”
He reached out to put his hand on hers. “You’re probably still shaken up. I
know you’re not used to this sort of thing.”

“I’m fine.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. The fact
was that she was far from fine, but being around Liam gave her a sense of
comfort she knew she couldn’t find anywhere else. “As long as I don’t have to
see those man’s eyes again, I’ll be fine. The sooner this ends, the better, and
if it takes that whole slew of guns, then so be it. Hell, I’ll start carrying
something if I have to.”

He cracked a smile. “I’m not going to let you start carrying
without any practice, but if you’re interested after all this is over, I’ll
definitely be your instructor.”

“I bet you will.” She leaned in and planted a soft kiss on
his lips.

“Is this how you treat all your teachers?” he asked, moving
back to the safe.

“Only the hot ones.” She laughed, thankful for Liam’s
ability to distract her from the fact some man threatened to leave her body
floating in the lake. She curled up her other leg beneath her body. “So what
are all the other ones for if this one is your go-to?”

“Every gun has a purpose in here.” He ducked his head into
the box again. “It just depends on the situation. If I’m going to be in
well-populated area, I need something focused and quiet. Something like a nine
millimeter. But when it all comes down to it, I need something that is not
going to be lethal unless I need it to be. After all, the last thing I want to
do is kill someone. I need something that will slow them down and protect me if
I need it.”

Liam bowed his head for a moment as if he was contemplating
something. Then he moved off the bed and crouched near the bottom of the box.
He reached in and retrieved a black bag. He held it in his lap for a moment
before gently tossing it on the bed.

“What is it?” Charla looked at the lumpy bag next to her,
its canvas embedded with a layer of dust.

He ran his hand through his hair and then stood up, his face
serious. He slowly moved toward her until he was standing in front of her.

“What is it?” she asked again, looking down at the bag. It
was definitely old, something that hadn’t been touched in a long time. She
glanced back up at Liam, recognizing the pain in his eyes. Her innocent
curiosity was quickly replaced with churning in her gut.

“I trust you,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. She
swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. “And I know that you trust me because you
came to me instead of the police. If we’re going to get to the bottom of this
all, then you need to know what’s in this bag. You need to know what the man in
the house was looking for.”

He let go of her hand and slowly pulled the zipper open. He
pulled back the canvas to reveal stacks of cash grouped together with rubber
bands.

Charla’s breath caught in her throat, her mind unable to
process the questions swirling in her head. She reached out and grabbed a
stack, thumbing through it. She opened her mouth, the words just a whisper as
she held up the money, “What is this, Liam?”

“It’s two hundred and fifty grand,” he replied.

“Two hundred -” she gasped, unable to finish the rest of her
thought. She waved the cash in her hand. “Where was this?”

“In the basement of the cottage.”

“What do you mean, it was in the basement?” she asked, her
voice straining. “How did you…”

“Charla, you have to understand, I never meant to hurt you,
and I never meant for you to get wrapped up in this. I didn’t know this was
going to happen. If I did, I never would have asked you to come back here in
the first place. I would have told you to get the hell out of town and never
look back.” He sat next to her and reached out for her hand, but she pulled it
away. “You have to believe me.”

“Liam, how did you get this money? How did you know it was
there?” she asked slowly, the sinking feeling in her stomach growing with each
passing second.

“The letter,” he replied, getting up and pulling a dresser
drawer open. He lifted up a few shirts and grabbed the envelope beneath it. He
slid it open, pulled out the letter, and handed it to her. “It’s in here. Jack
told me where it was.”

She took the letter, her eyes scanning over the letters and
words, unable to process the information written. The blue ink was a blur. She
shook her head and handed it back to him. “I don’t understand. When did you get
it?”

“I’m not proud, Charla, that I didn’t tell you right away. I
should have, but I didn’t know if I could trust you. I didn’t know what it all
meant,” he said. “Hell, I didn’t know Jack was really in the mafia. I suspected
something, but that? I mean, there’s no way I could have known.”