"I feel close to you," I reply. "But it's still nice to hear."
He looks a little surly, but it amuses me. "Yes, I feel close to you," he mutters.
I wish we weren't maybe-dying, because I really want to get close enough to tease him. I don't want to right now, not when he's just opened up, but God, I need more time with him. We haven't had enough. Not nearly enough.
"I'm scared," I finally tell him.
"I know," he says, softly. A few seconds pass, then he asks, "Do you think you would've liked me if we would've met under different circumstances? Same people, just... better situation."
I want to immediately say yes, but I think it over for a second first. There are certainly things about him I wouldn't have been psyched about—the whole family legacy thing had put me off violent men, so if I didn't actively need one to save me, it probably would have held less appeal.
But he isn't like them. I know logically he would probably do the same bad things if he had to, because above all, Liam is a man who does what needs to be done... but he has heart, a code, a kind of integrity they all lack. He isn't just blowing through life—and other people's lives—inflicting pain and suffering because he can. They’re so cowardly compared to him. It feels like an insult to even compare them in my mind.
"Yes," I finally say. "If I could've somehow still seen behind your shields, I'm sure I would've."
“I probably wouldn’t have let you,” he says lightly.
“I would have made you,” I inform him, playfully haughty.
“Oh, yeah, you’re so forceful.” He rolls his eyes.
“Hey, I’m totally scary and intimidating.”
“I know you can’t tell, but I’m shaking over here.”
The exchange has taken my mind off things, but now it wanders to bedroom activities, curiosity about things we didn’t have a chance to try. I wonder if he’d like me taking charge.
I wonder if Ryder will come through so I get the chance to find out.
Then I frown, realizing the story he told me about his family didn’t include a brother. Had he just left it out in case people were listening? I want to ask, but for the same reason, I don’t.
Annabelle
I manage to fall asleep despite the unrelenting shaking of my chilled body, so when the ramming sound jerks me awake, I’m initially a little pissed.
Then it hits me—the understanding that something is on the other side, trying to get in. Blood rages through my veins. I inhale sharply, torn between fear and excitement.
It has to be Ryder. Right? The bad guys have keys.
I turn my head toward Liam to see if he’s awake, if he somehow knows more than I do. His body is rigid, his eyes alert and trained on the door.
“What’s going on?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer. I don’t know if he was asleep or awake, but fear cloaks me like a blanket as one certainty settles in: one way or another, things are about to change.
Before we have too long to ponder the kerfuffle outside, the door splinters and bursts open. I strain to look, craning my neck, and my heart explodes, relief and happiness pouring through me.
"Oh my God, he did it," I murmur.
Ryder steps through with his darker skinned companion right behind him. Ryder is smug, but Ali grins when he sees Liam tied to the chair.
"Oh man." Ali reaches into his pocket, I assume to draw out a knife to cut the ropes, but instead he produces a cell phone and snaps a picture.
"You dick," Liam says, but without censure.
"We're the dicks?" Ryder asks, a dark brow rising. "Here you are trying to die without so much as a goodbye and we’re the dicks?"
As Ryder approaches Liam and begins cutting him loose, Ali comes over to me, his eyes wandering over my bare body. Without looking at my face, he turns and looks around, spotting the pile of clothes on the ground and picking them up.