He's right in front of me now, and even though I refuse to be afraid of him, my stomach somersaults.
I don't want his hands on me, but he reaches out to grab me by the arm. I resist, out of habit, gritting my teeth and glaring at him.
Paul smiles.
Not releasing my arm, he tugs me along. I follow because I want to see Liam, but I jerk my arm free as soon as his grip eases up.
Warily eyeing the door, I make note of all the locks. Most of the doors I've seen before this one don't have locks at all, or if they do, just a simple twist lock on the knob. This one has 4 additional locks installed. Not for keeping someone out, I suspect, but for keeping someone in.
My heart kicks up several speeds as he shoves the door open.
It's a dark, rectangular room with cinderblock walls. There's a generic exposed light bulb just inside the room, and in the small space to the left I see Greg, Pietro, and Antonio.
I look to the right and see my Liam, bruised, dirty, with cuts on his face and a swollen lip, but all in one piece. He looks terrible and wonderful and he's tied to a chair.
I don't think, I just run to him, kneeling on the cold cement floor before him as tears spring to my eyes.
He's hurt, but he's alive.
He looks both furious and happy to see me.
"Liam," I whisper, my hands thoughtlessly kneading his thighs. He flinches just slightly and I frown, confused.
Then I remember about the pipe. The beating. I don't know where, I couldn't see.
My hands lighten on the tops of his thighs. I was so afraid for him, I can’t stand not touching him, but I'm almost afraid to. I don't want to hurt him, but I also want to throw myself into his arms and feel safe.
But I won't be.
Liam can't keep me safe right now. It's all on me.
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"I wish you wouldn't have come," he says, miserably.
"I had to," I tell him. "I wasn't going to leave you."
"Touching," Paul says from behind me.
He's close, so I tense.
When he fists a hand in my hair and practically rips it out of my scalp, I'm not even surprised.
Thankfully, finally, I feel the reluctant gate in my mind slide back into place, making me a fortress again, out of Paul’s reach.
When I rise up off the floor and he jerks me around to meet his gaze, I'm smiling.
He fists his hand tighter so it hurts more and my smile widens. "You must've missed me, huh? Is Marlene boring? She always struck me as boring. I bet she never gives you an excuse to manhandle her, huh?"
The familiar fury dances in the depths of his muddy brown eyes, but here, now, he isn't impotent with it anymore.
He slams me against the brick wall, hurting my left shoulder with the impact, but I don't lose my smile.
But then he smiles. Glances back at Liam, his features and muscles tense with anger.
Then Paul swoops in. I rear back but my back connects with cold, hard wall and there’s nowhere to go. His face moves closer and I'm horrified, my gaze jerking to Liam. I don't know why I did that. Realizing Liam is watching makes it so much worse as Paul grabs me and smashes his mouth against mine.
As he rips open Liam's old jacket, tears the neck of my sweater, and puts his hands on my breasts.