2. Asher

CHAPTER 2

ASHER

I lean against the cool metal of the kitchen sink, my heart still racing like a spooked rabbit. The ghost of Liam's touch lingers on my skin, a fiery brand I can't shake. It's been hours since he stormed out of my diner, leaving me weak-kneed and aching, but I can still taste him on my tongue. Whiskey and danger and something dark and addictive I've never encountered before.

"Earth to Asher!" Mia's voice snaps me out of my daze, her almond-shaped eyes narrowed with concern. "Are you going to tell me what the hell that was all about?"

I scrub a hand over my face, wondering how much to divulge. Mia's been my rock since we were scrappy kids running wild in the neighborhood, thick as thieves and twice as loyal. But this... this feels too raw, too new, to share just yet.

"Liam O'Connor," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "He came to collect the protection money."

Mia sucks in a sharp breath. "Shit, Ash. He's Declan O'Connor's enforcer. That man is seriously bad news."

I nod, my throat suddenly tight. I've heard the stories, whispers of Liam's ruthless efficiency, the trail of broken bones and busted-up businesses he leaves in his wake. But the man who had me pinned against the fridge, his body hard and thrumming with barely leashed power... he was more than just a thug. There was something haunted in those green eyes, a flicker of hunger and self-loathing that called to me on a bone-deep level.

"I told him I wouldn't pay," I say softly, bracing for Mia's reaction.

"You what?" She grips my shoulders, giving me a little shake. "Are you insane? Do you know what he could do to you, to this place?"

"I can't give in to extortion, Mia." I meet her gaze steadily, my resolve hardening. "This diner is more than just a business. It's a safe haven, a little slice of sunshine for people who have precious little light in their lives. I won't let Declan O'Connor taint that with his greed and violence."

Mia's expression softens, her fierce worry melting into exasperated affection. "You always did have more heart than sense, Ash." She pulls me into a quick, hard hug. "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay? Don't go catching feelings for some sexy mob enforcer just 'cause he's got killer green eyes and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of."

A strangled laugh escapes me, even as heat prickles under my skin at the memory of said ass flexing in tight black jeans. "Trust me, that's the last thing on my mind."

Liar, a voice whispers in my head. But I shove it down, along with the lingering ache in my chest. Whatever this crackling tension is between me and Liam, it's a complication I can't afford. Not when so much is at stake.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of clinking dishes and sizzling grease, the comforting rhythms of diner life. I lose myself in the work, trading quips with Mia and fussing over my regulars, determined not to let my run-in with Liam throw me off balance.

But all that careful composure flies out the window when the bell over the door jingles and I look up to see him stalking toward the counter like a sleek, predatory cat. He's ditched the coat and roll-neck, opting for a plain white T-shirt that hugs his muscular chest and biceps. The spicy, masculine scent of him hits me like a physical blow as he settles on a stool, his glacier eyes finding mine with unnerving directness.

"Coffee," he grunts, his voice low and sleep-rough. "Black."

"Coming right up." I'm proud of how steady I sound, even as my pulse kicks into overdrive. I grab a clean mug and fill it to the brim, the rich aroma of dark roast curling around us. When I set it down in front of him, our fingers brush, a jolt of electricity arcing between us.

Liam's gaze locks with mine, something dark and fathomless swimming in those green depths. "Thanks," he murmurs, raising the mug to his sinful mouth. "Smells good."

I swallow hard, my face flushing with more than just the steam from the coffee. "Best in the city," I manage, wincing internally at the inane boast.

But Liam just quirks a brow, his lips twitching like he's fighting a smile. "I'll be the judge of that, sunshine."

The nickname sends a shiver down my spine, even as a kernel of anger ignites in my chest. Who does he think he is, waltzing in here like he owns the place, turning me inside out with just a look and a touch?

As if reading my thoughts, Liam sets down his mug, his expression sobering. "About yesterday..." he starts, his voice gruff.

I cut him off with a sharp shake of my head. "I meant what I said, Liam. I won't be bullied into submission, no matter how many alpha-male tactics you throw at me."

Something flares in his eyes, hot and hungry. "That so?" he drawls, leaning forward on his elbows. "You think what happened in the kitchen was just a tactic?"

My breath catches in my throat, my body tightening with traitorous heat. "W-wasn't it?"

Liam's gaze drops to my mouth, his own lips parting slightly. "If it was, it backfired spectacularly." His voice is a low rasp, igniting sparks down my nerve endings. "Can't seem to get the taste of you out of my head, Asher Davis."

Oh sweet Lord. I grip the edge of the counter, my knees threatening to buckle. "Liam, I... we can't..."

"I know." He straightens abruptly, his expression shuttering. "Forget I said anything."

He throws a crumpled twenty on the counter and stalks out of the diner without another word, leaving me feeling bereft and off-kilter. I stare after him, my heart aching in a way I can't begin to understand.

"Hey, you okay?" Mia appears at my elbow, her brow furrowed. "What did tall, dark, and homicidal want?"

I shake my head, pasting on a bright smile. "Nothing. Just more macho posturing." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but I can't bear to put words to the churning emotions inside me. Not yet.

The rest of my shift passes in a numb haze, my mind stuck in an endless loop of Liam's heated gaze, his gruff confession. By the time I finish wiping down the last table and counting out the register, my head is pounding and my nerves feel rubbed raw.

I'm so lost in my own spiraling thoughts that I don't notice the scrap of paper tucked under my windshield wiper until I'm fumbling for my keys in the dark parking lot. With a frown, I pluck it free, unfolding it with clumsy fingers.

Stay away from Liam O'Connor, it reads in bold, blocky script. Or there won't be enough of you left to fill a takeout bag.

A chill races down my spine, my breath fogging in the frigid night air. My first instinct is to crumple the note and toss it aside, refusing to be cowed by vague threats. But something in the menacing tone, the stark finality of the words, tells me this is no idle warning.

I glance around the empty lot, suddenly feeling horribly exposed. The screech of tires on asphalt makes me flinch, but it's just a passing car, its tail lights quickly swallowed by the dark.

With shaking hands, I unlock my door and slide behind the wheel, the note crumpled in my fist. My heart is a wild drumbeat in my ears, fear and adrenaline spiking through my veins.

Who would want to warn me away from Liam? His enemies in the mafia world? Someone else vying for his attention? The thought makes me feel queasy and faintly ridiculous. I'm nothing to Liam, just a temporary distraction, an itch he needs to scratch.

But even as I try to convince myself of that, I can't shake the memory of his eyes, the way they softened and heated in equal measure when he looked at me. The rough silk of his voice when he said my name, like it was something precious and fragile.

Fuck. I'm in way over my head, caught between my growing fascination with a dangerous man and the very real threats lurking in the shadows. Every instinct is screaming at me to run, to put as much distance between myself and Liam O'Connor as possible.

But a deeper, more reckless part of me rebels at the thought. Liam makes me feel alive in a way I never have before, like I'm teetering on the edge of something huge and terrifying and exhilarating. Can I really just walk away from that? From him?

I crumple the note into a tight ball and shove it into my pocket, my jaw clenched with stubborn resolve. I won't let faceless cowards dictate my choices, my feelings. If there's even a chance that what I have with Liam is real, that it could grow into something deeper and truer than just forbidden lust, I owe it to myself to find out.

No matter the risk. No matter the cost. I'm not running anymore.

With a deep breath, I turn the key in the ignition and pull out of the lot, the diner's neon sign casting a soft, rosy glow in my rear view mirror. In the distance, the jagged Chicago skyline glitters like broken glass, full of sharp edges and hidden dangers.

But for the first time in my careful, colorless life, I'm ready to bleed for something. For someone. And God help me, that someone is Liam fucking O'Connor.