Bullets & Bonfires

“I think I might get my hair cut.”

“Why? It’s so beautiful.”

That snaps me out of my sleepy trance. I sit up straighter. “You think my hair’s beautiful?”

He slides his gaze over me. From my bare toes, up my legs, and I swear heat sears my skin everywhere until he stops at my eyes.

“Yes, Bree. Everything about you is beautiful.”

I grab a bunch of my hair, combing my fingers through it to hide the way my body’s trembling. “It’s so hot and heavy.”

“You’ll be just as pretty with it shorter.”

I risk glancing into his eyes again. “Do you want me to move so you can go to bed?”

“No. You’re fine.”

“You can always take Vince’s room and I’ll sleep out here.”

He’s shaking his head before I finish the sentence. “Absolutely not.”

My phone buzzes and I reach behind me to grab it. “Ugh, another voicemail.”

He leans forward and takes the phone out of my hand. “Chad’s brother?”

“Yup. What a jerk.”

“I’m sorry. Blocking it only means it goes straight to voicemail. I’ll listen to it after you go to bed.”

“Thank you.”

He stares at the phone but doesn’t listen to the message. “Might need you to sign some papers when we file the restraining order.”

“Okay. Whatever you need me to do, Liam.” I let out a yawn and, as much as I want to keep talking to him, I decide it’s safer to go to bed.

As soon as Bree shuts the bedroom door, I listen to the message Chad’s brother left.

“Listen, Bree, my parents are willing to pay if you drop the charges. Let’s meet up—”

“Hell-fucking-no,” I mutter as I forward the message to my phone and delete it from Bree’s.

I tap out a text to my buddy, Sully, then head into the bathroom for a quick shower. Before returning to the living room, I stop and listen for any sounds of distress. She’s been sleeping better since the first night, but every time she gets one of those messages I worry about it stirring stuff up in her head.

She left the door slightly open and I push it wider to steal a glance at her.

Christ, I’m turning into a creeper.

It’s a king-size bed. Plenty of room.

Before my mind wanders any further down that path, I shut the door.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

My bedroom door’s shut the next morning.

One of us can’t take a damn hint. I’m just not sure if it’s him or me.

After breakfast, Liam places his hand over mine, so I don’t leave the table.

“Come take a ride with me?”

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I nod at his hand. “I don’t think you’re ready for another fishing adventure.”

He chuckles and squeezes my hand. “Not yet.”

I glance down at my leggings and fitted T-shirt. “Let me change.”

“No. You’re perfect like that. Grab some sneakers.” He runs his gaze over my shirt again, lingering on my breasts. “Maybe a hoodie.”

Curiosity has me following his instruction. I jam my feet into a pair of Skechers and tug on one of Vince’s sweatshirts that’s so big, I have to roll up the sleeves.

Liam’s waiting for me on the porch and his mouth turns up when he sees me. “Perfect,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to the truck.

Do just friends hold hands?

After our kiss—that we never talked about again—it weird to have him touch me more than necessary.

Once we’re on the road, it’s time to pry more information out of him. “Will you tell me now?”

“Nope.”

I glance over. He’s straining to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up.

“What are you up to, Hollister?”

“You’ll see, Avery.”

I let out an aggrieved huff of air and force my own lips to stay in a firm line. This is much better than the awkwardness of the past couple days. It was beginning to wear me down.

He pulls the truck behind a gym with an attached martial arts studio, kills the engine, and turns to face me. All the questions fade from my mind when I see how serious he is. “I want you to meet a friend of mine.”

I hesitate before answering. “Okay. Why didn’t you say so?”

“He owns the studio and works with the department from time to time, teaching self-defense classes.”

“Oh.” What am I supposed to say?

“I asked him to give you some lessons.” He pauses and glances out the window. “I gave him a few details about your situation.”

Clearly, Liam’s worried I’ll be mad at him. And yes, I don’t want my business spread around. But how could I ever fault him for worrying about my safety? “Thank you, Liam. This is a really sweet thing to do.”

He arches an eyebrow. “You’re not mad?”

“No. Not at all.” Unless he plans on leaving me here by myself. “You’re going to stay, though, right?”

He exhales and seems to relax. “Of course.”

“One of the counselors for the group suggested self-defense classes.”

“I know,” he says in a low voice.

Right. Because he works in law enforcement and deals with victims like me all the time.

That certainly tamps down my enthusiasm.

He leads me to the back entrance and knocks on one of the office doors.

“Open,” someone shouts.

Liam pushes the door wide. “We’re here.”

“Hey, Hollister!” The guy inside greets us in a booming voice that seems bigger than it should, considering he’s only a few inches taller than me.

He comes closer and slaps palms with Liam. “Sully, this is my friend, Brianna Avery. Bree this is Sullivan Wallace. Biggest badass I know.”

Shaking his head, Sullivan chuckles. “This one’s the biggest bull shitter I know.” He holds out his hand. “Vince’s little sister, right?”

I take his hand, impressed with his firm grip. “Yup.”

“He’s a good guy.”

Wondering how he knows my brother, I follow Sullivan and Liam to the main floor. It’s an impressive studio. Light, shining hardwood floors cover one half of the space and blue plastic gym mats cover the other half. Full-length mirrors run along three walls.

Feeling too self-conscious to stare in the mirrors, I turn away. Liam gives me a reassuring smile and squeezes my hand.

I’m trying so hard to remember the positives in my life. Sure, I’d been in a bad relationship. I’m out. I’m taking charge of my life and moving on. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Now, I just need to repeat those statements a thousand more times and maybe I’ll actually believe them.

Sully clears his throat, capturing my attention. “So, first I like to tell my civilian clients a few things before I teach them how to be dangerous.” His mouth quirks into an irresistible grin.

I like this guy.

My gaze drifts to Liam, who’s standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, watching our every move.

“Every place is safe, until it isn’t,” Sullivan says, drawing my attention back to him.

Isn’t that the truth. Including my own home.

Between my overprotective brother and Liam’s own fierce protective streak, I spent my teenage years feeling a bit bulletproof.

Dangerous thinking once I went out into the world on my own.

Sully watches as I work through my emotional epiphany. When I give him a quick nod, he continues. “The most important thing you can do is be aware. Keep a clear head. Pay attention to your surroundings.”

“Gotcha.”

He takes on a more serious expression. “Now, the next thing a lot of women don’t like to hear. Avoid danger when possible. Think about it, do you really need to put yourself in potentially dangerous situations?”

I cock my head, invitin

g him to elaborate.

“Do you need that late-night run to the drug store? Do you need to go jogging at night? Keep yourself out of dangerous situations like dark alleys, parking garages, bad areas of town. Be wise when making your plans and consider going out with friends so you’re not alone.”