His eyes narrow, and his hand retreats, and for some reason, it leaves me as cold as the room I’m in, wishing I hadn’t said anything.
“I’m finally doing what I want. The Liam you knew followed the rules. And where did that leave me?” He slams the knife into the wooden floor, and I let out a short squeal from the scare. “At death’s fucking door.”
“Jill told me she was scared you might get hurt, so she took you in that car to get to safety. It wasn’t meant as an attack.”
Suddenly, he’s all up in my face, like a hound smelling its prey. “What else do you know? Tell me!”
“I … I …” I want to, but he’s so close I can’t even formulate a response, let alone remember what she told me about what happened that night.
“You’re lying, aren’t you?” he barks.
“No!” I reply. “I swear, I’m not.”
He picks up the knife again and points it at me. “You’re trying to manipulate me.”
“I’m not.” I hold up my hands. “I’m telling the truth.”
“Then whose fault is it that I almost died and lost all my memories? Hmm?”
“Our parents!” I blurt out. “They were going to force you to marry her, but neither of you wanted it, so she freaked out. And then Luca found out, and you two got into a big fight, and … Jill drove off with you.”
His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t say another word.
I tilt my head to look into his eyes. “It’s been three years since the accident.”
He rubs his face, his brows creasing as though he’s having a hard time keeping the past and present separate, and I can’t help but feel a bit of pity.
But when he looks at me, those eyes that were once so full of wonder and happiness only contain rage now. “But you weren’t there when it happened.”
“No, but she told me,” I reply.
His eyes narrow. “And you trusted her?”
“She’s my sister. Of course I did.”
His head tilts back, and his tongue dips out to lick his lips. “For a girl who just lost her sister, you don’t seem that devastated to me.” He brings the knife to my face, sliding it down my cheek painfully slow.
I shudder in response.
That’s right. He doesn’t know Jill is alive.
Doesn’t know his brother is still alive.
And if he finds out he failed, he might go back to finish the job.
“I’m keeping her memory alive.” I hate lying, but it’s a necessary evil.
“You’re doing a piss-poor job of keeping yourself alive, though,” he retorts, sliding the knife down my throat until I swallow, and the blade barely punctures my skin.
He leans in so close I can feel his breath on my skin. “You think I want to hurt you, don’t you?”
I nod a few times, pushing myself as far as I can into the wall so the blade doesn’t cut into me. But I can’t stop the whimper from leaving my mouth.
A wicked smile forms on his face, one I wish I could smack off, but I don’t have the guts. And my eyes can’t help travel down his ripped pecs and abs to his tight jeans, which barely fit his muscular body.
Fuck.
I immediately turn my head, forcing myself to look elsewhere.