The Rebel (Red's Tavern 2)

But the minute he had money, the partying began. He was sucked deep into the world of drugs and alcohol.

Any confidence he’d gained with his popularity quickly became a mask he wore over his pain.

I had to bail him out of jail for public disturbance more than once. I picked him up at the hospital for alcohol poisoning three times. I’d come home to find him passed out on the floor all the time.

Every time, he would shower me with kisses and apologies the next morning, promising to make it right.

It was always a lie.

He’d broken my heart over and over again, and after a while, I stopped trying to repair it.

My stomach turned. “Get out of here, Liam,” I said, keeping my voice low.

“Red, please,” he said. He was uncharacteristically pleading. He never usually showed a hint of vulnerability, at least not in public.

“Get out of my bar, or I’ll remove you from my bar,” I said.

I had to remind myself that it was better for both of us to stay far the fuck away from one another, but even now, his eyes were staring right into my soul. My instinct was to help Liam at all costs.

I wanted to know what had gone wrong for him in LA.

Fireproof. Don’t let him burn you.

“Can’t we just talk?”

“We both know what happens when we try to talk.”

“I mean, sometimes really good things used to happen,” he said, quirking up an eyebrow. “Conversations with no clothes.”

“Good until it wasn’t,” I said.

I could feel more and more eyes turning our way, and my skin was starting to crawl. I always kept a level head, especially in my bar. I had made Red’s Tavern through blood, sweat, and tears, and I never wanted to cause a scene here. People needed to feel comfortable. The tavern was the only gay-friendly bar for miles and miles.

Of course Liam was the only person who could test me like this.

“Red,” he said again.

That begging tone was the reason I could never keep my cock away from him. It went straight to my core, hearing him ask for me in that way. It was the reason he always pulled me into his orbit, like some sort of irresistible quicksand.

He was the only drug I’d ever wanted. But I refused to go back to a life where rescuing Liam felt like a full-time job, no matter how drawn to him I was.

“I don’t want to see you again,” I said, my tone firm. “I don’t want to see you here or anywhere. Nothing has changed. I’m asking you one more time to get out of my bar.”

His eyes were stormy again, the dark rims of his eyelashes blinking a few times.

“Okay,” he said finally.

I was surprised to hear him back down. The minute he relented, some dark part of me almost wished he would have kept pushing.

“What were you thinking, coming here, Liam?” I said.

He shrugged one shoulder weakly. “I guess I just thought I needed a friend,” he said, his voice low. “Bye, Red.”

He turned and walked out the front door, back into the rain, disappearing as quickly as he’d come in.

My blood pressure was still sky high. I felt like I needed to go hit a punching bag.

“Red, I am going to kill you—that was Liam fucking Hardy that you just turned away,” Sam hissed at me. “And you know him? What the hell? You need to spill some deets, boss, because holy shit—”

“No,” I said, evenly and calmly. “We might have an evening rush. Let’s get the bar cleaned up and ready for the night.”

It was a lie, of course. Tonight was going to be slow, and the rain was only getting more intense outside. But I needed to focus on anything that wasn’t Liam right now.

I tuned out as Sam started chatting incessantly about how impressive Liam’s cumshots were, how sexy his moans were, how hot his tattoos were. When he started talking about how well Liam took a cock, I went to the back store room and began pulling inventory.

I dove into my work for the rest of the night and pushed any thoughts of the hurt behind Liam’s eyes out of my mind.

I’d forced myself to forget him before, and I could do it again now.

2

Liam

*** One Month Ago ***

It’s 4:37 a.m. in Los Angeles and I know I have to get out.

Colin just got home and he still smells like another man. It’s like I’m drowning, in a nightmare, where the dream never ends and I’m permanently starved for air, kicking and kicking in the dark. Colin flashes me a smile and I can still see remnants of powdery white cocaine on the bottom of his nostrils.

Earlier I’d seen him in the bathroom at Club Inferno with his dick in some stranger’s mouth. He hadn’t even known I was there.