19. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Liam

I t's been almost two weeks since Skyla and Asher were beat to shit by Christopher. I've never felt a pain like that until that moment, watching the love of your life and your best friend so broken, so hurt. Knowing exactly who did it and also knowing that there isn't a fucking thing you can do? Yeah, that shit sucks.

I've also never seen Ronan so out of control. While Skyla and Asher were getting cleaned up by the doctor, we were all downstairs, trying to give them space and escape Skyla's screams. Each one had me cringing, and around the thirtieth time, Ronan sprung to his feet and went to his car. When he came back, he was loading a gun with a look on his face that promised retribution.

My attempts at getting him to calm down were futile, and if the doctor hadn't come down the stairs to inform us about their injuries, I think he would have left right then. Being reminded of his girl upstairs, injured and in pain, made him pause, at least for a little. Though, I know why he really stuck around. He wanted to see her one more time, in case he didn't make it back. Which he wouldn't have. Asher is right on that one.

I feel my hands begin to shake as Ronan drives. We still have another four hours ahead of us, but I don't think this feeling will fade in that amount of time. This is so fucking stupid. My family handles a pharmaceutical empire. Why the fuck do I have to prove to be a capable mercenary? Who am I going to be faced with killing? Reps? Doctors? My accountant?

My eyes dart over to see Ronan watching me with a pinched look. I know what he's thinking. He doesn't think I have it in me, that I'm not gonna hack it. Honestly, I'm kinda with him. The last…job, if that's what you want to call it, fucked me up. I haven't slept right in weeks, and the way I puked my fucking guts out right after…yeah, I'm definitely not like Vincent, or even Asher.

Vincent's also gone today doing whatever the fuck he does. Obviously, he doesn't share details with us, and if Ronan knows, he doesn't let on.

With all three of us out of town, that just leaves Skyla and Asher home together. Neither went to classes for the first week after that day at Putnam Manor. They honestly barely left Skyla's room. They stayed wrapped around each other like their very own trauma-bond shawl.

I think I'm the only one, apart from Skyla, that's happy about them being…whatever they have been lately. I saw how much he was hurting, and I knew it would only get worse. Did he do some fucked up shit? Absolutely. Did he do it for the right reasons? Debatable. Does he love her, though? Absofuckinglutly. Anyone who says otherwise has to be blind, an idiot, or Vincent Griggs.

One day, I heard Vincent and Skyla get into a screaming match over it. Ronan, Asher, and I were making dinner, and not one of us moved to investigate. Their relationship is very unique, and we've found it's best to let them hash out their shit on their own.

When they eventually came downstairs, Skyla took the seat at the table beside Asher, not sparing Vincent a second glance as she rested her hand on top of Asher's on the table. We all watched Vincent carefully, waiting for him to explode. Surprisingly, he didn't. I mean, he did stare at Asher like he wanted to incinerate him, but he didn't try to shoot him, so I'd call that acceptance.

I'm anxious to get back home, not just because this isn't where I want to be. I also want to get back home because I've been fantasizing about a hot threesome ever since Asher and Skyla made up, or got together, or whatever you want to call it. My beautiful girl getting fucked by me and my best friend? Sign me the fuck up.

"What are you grinning at?" Ronan asks, shaking me out of my thoughts.

I don't realize I'm smirking until he says something, and I quickly drop it before looking to him.

"Nothing."

He shakes his head. "You need to get your head into this, Liam. Christopher is worried about you. You and I both know that is never a good thing."

"I've got it. It's fine. We're gonna get there in four hours. I'm going to put this ski mask on," I say, as I lift it up to prove a point. "I'm going to walk inside the house with this gun," I say, as I wave the gun that's been sitting at my feet. "And then I'm going to shoot him in the head."

"Yeah?" Ronan asks dubiously. "And what will you do if the security alarm goes off? If someone is sleeping next to him? Are you ready to kill them too?"

I falter at that. It's one thing to kill some sleazy dude in his forties that the Brethren put a mark on. It's another entirely to kill an innocent stranger who slept with the wrong man.

"That," he says, pointing his finger at me. "That is what I'm talking about. Whatever you're thinking about, lock it down. You have to do this. If they tell you to eliminate everyone in that house, you do it without hesitation."

"Ronan—"

"No," he snaps. "This is serious, Liam. You could be taken out yourself if you're proven invaluable."

"Well, why the fuck do I even have to prove myself! I'm not going to be an eliminator, what's the fucking problem?"

He blows out a rough breath as he shakes his head.

"The problem is, Christopher gave you a task, and you do it. Period."

I sit with that for a second, not liking the way it twists my stomach.

"Is that what he told you? When you had to kill her?"

Ronan's entire body freezes, his head turning to look at me slowly.

"What?"

I stare at him, unyielding.

"C'mon, Ronan. I know you've heard the rumors, and it wouldn't surprise me if they were true. I just…was it worth it? Killing the woman you love for your brother's favor?"

He's silent for a long time. So long, I assume the topic is dropped. He only speaks through clenched teeth minutes later, his body practically trembling.

"It's complicated."

I scoff at that. "Yeah, everything in this fucked up world is complicated."

Pulling out my phone, I begin typing a message to Skyla. Anything to distract me from what's to come. I'll do this fucking job. I'll put on the show of a fucking lifetime, and then hopefully it'll be enough to get me out of the spotlight. I feel bad for whoever Christopher's attention lands on next, though.