5. Liam

CHAPTER 5

LIAM

T he sickly green neon of The Emerald Serpent's sign casts an eerie glow over the rain-slicked street as I screech to a stop outside the shithole bar. My blood is a roar in my ears, my vision tunneled to a single, searing point of focus: finding Declan and making him pay for what he did to Asher.

I don't remember the drive over here, the frantic race through slick, dark streets. All I can see is the fear in Asher's eyes, the broken glass and hateful slurs desecrating the warm haven of his diner. All I can feel is the consuming rage, the cold terror at the thought of losing him to the poisonous tendrils of my world.

I slam through the bar's door like a hurricane, the chatter and clink of glasses dying in a hush of wary anticipation. Every eye in the room tracks me as I stalk to the back, where I know Declan will be holding court, the king of his wretched little empire.

He's lounging in a dark leather booth, a tumbler of whiskey dangling negligently from his fingers, his cruel mouth curved in a smirk. He doesn't even bother to look up as I approach, his gaze fixed on the voluptuous redhead perched on his lap.

"Little brother," he drawls, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I slam my palms on the table, rattling the empty bottles and overflowing ashtrays. The redhead yelps and scurries away, but Declan just raises a bored eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his drink.

"You know damn well why I'm here," I snarl, my voice low and deadly. "You trashed Asher's diner. Threatened him. I fucking warned you to leave him out of this, Declan."

He sets his glass down with a delicate clink, his eyes finally meeting mine. They're cold and flat, like a shark's, belying the genial smile stretching his lips.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Liam," he says mildly. "I've been right here all evening, enjoying the company of the lovely Candy. Isn't that right, darling?"

The redhead nods frantically, her eyes wide and terrified as they dart between us. I dismiss her with a contemptuous glance, my attention never wavering from Declan.

"Cut the bullshit," I growl. "We both know you're behind this. Sending your lackeys to do your dirty work, trying to scare Asher off. It won't fucking work, Declan. I won't let you hurt him."

Declan's smile sharpens, a flash of teeth in the dim light. "You seem awfully invested in this piece of ass, brother mine. Don't tell me you've actually developed feelings for the little fairy?"

Red washes over my vision, my hands curling into fists on the sticky tabletop. "Watch your fucking mouth," I breathe, my voice trembling with barely leashed violence. "Asher is off-limits, Declan. I mean it. You come after him again, and we're going to have a problem."

For a long, taut moment, we stare each other down, the air between us crackling with tension. Then Declan throws his head back and laughs, the sound grating and mirthless.

"Oh, Liam," he sighs, shaking his head. "You poor, deluded bastard. You actually think this is going to end well for you? That you can play house with your pretty boy and still be the ruthless enforcer I need you to be?"

He leans forward, his eyes glittering with malice. "Let me make this very clear, little brother. Your sole loyalty is to the family. To me. Everything else - every one else - is expendable. Including your precious fucking twink."

I rear back like he's slapped me, my heart pounding a sickening rhythm in my throat. "Declan--"

"Feelings are a weakness," he cuts me off, his voice implacable. "A liability we can't afford in this business. You want to keep your boy toy safe? Cut him loose. Push him away and don't look back. Because if you don't, if you let this fairy tale bullshit jeopardize our operation..."

He smiles, slow and vicious. "I'll put him in the ground myself. And I'll make you watch while I do it."

Bile rises hot and sharp in my throat, Declan's words hitting me like a gut-punch. I want to argue, to rail and rage and tell him to go fuck himself sideways. But a small, insidious part of me knows he's right. Knows that loving Asher, being with him, paints a glaring target on his back. Makes him vulnerable to all the vicious, venal monsters that lurk in the shadows of my life.

Monsters like the one sitting in front of me, wearing my brother's face.

"Do we understand each other, Liam?" Declan asks softly, his voice like velvet sheathing steel.

I close my eyes, hating myself, hating him, hating every twist and turn that's led me to this soul-rending moment. "Yes," I rasp, the word bitter as wormwood on my tongue.

"Good." Declan sits back, satisfaction oozing from every pore. "Glad we had this little chat. Now run along and let me enjoy my evening, hmm?"

I turn on my heel and stalk out of the bar, my pulse pounding in my temples, my hands trembling with impotent fury. The cold rain lashes my face as I step outside, but I barely feel it, numb to everything but the icy dread settling in my gut.

I have to end things with Asher. Have to push him away, make him hate me, for his own safety and sanity. The thought carves me hollow, leaves me bleeding and raw. But it's the only way. The only fucking choice.

I drive to the diner like a man headed for the gallows, my heart a leaden weight in my chest. The place is dark when I pull up, closed for the night, but I can see a light on in the back room, filtering through the blinds.

Asher. Cleaning up the mess I've made of his life, the havoc I've wreaked on his sanctuary. Guilt twists like a knife in my gut, sharp and unrelenting.

I let myself in with the key he gave me, the bell above the door chiming with mocking cheer. Asher appears in the doorway, his eyes widening, his face pale and drawn.

"Liam," he breathes, taking a half-step forward. "Are you--"

"We need to talk," I cut him off, my voice flat and lifeless to my own ears.

Something flickers in his eyes, a wary sort of understanding. He nods, wiping his hands on a dishrag, his shoulders squared like he's bracing for a blow.

"I can't do this anymore," I say, the words rasping over the raw flesh of my throat. "Can't be with you. It's too dangerous, for both of us."

Asher flinches like I've slapped him, hurt blooming stark and vivid on his face. "Liam, please," he whispers, his voice cracking. "Don't do this. We can find a way--"

"There is no way," I snap, hating myself for the harshness, the finality in my tone. "This thing between us, it was a mistake. A fucking pipe dream. I'm not the man you think I am, Asher. I'm not someone you can build a life with."

He shakes his head, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. "That's not true," he chokes out. "I know you, Liam. I see the good in you, the strength, the loyalty. You're more than what they've made you."

A jagged, humorless laugh tears from my throat. "You don't know a goddamn thing about me," I snarl. "About the things I've done, the blood on my hands. You think a few pretty words and a good fuck can erase that? Can turn me into some kind of reformed bad boy, riding off into the sunset with you?"

Asher recoils like I've gut-punched him, his face draining of color. "Liam," he whispers, broken and bewildered. "Why are you saying these things? What's happened?"

I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache, the urge to go to him, to take him in my arms and beg forgiveness, nearly overwhelming. But I can't. I won't . Not if I want to keep him whole and breathing.

"Nothing's happened," I say coldly. "I've just come to my senses, is all. Remembered who and what I am. And it sure as hell isn't your knight in shining armor, sunshine."

The old endearment twists like a blade between my ribs, tainted now with the poison I'm spewing. Asher makes a soft, wounded sound, like I've reached into his chest and torn out his heart.

"So that's it then?" he asks, his voice small and lost. "You're just going to walk away? Throw away everything we have, everything we could be?"

Yes , I want to scream. Yes, because I love you too fucking much to watch you destroyed by my world, by my sins. Yes, because losing you would be a hell I could never survive.

But I don't say that. I can't say that. Instead, I shrug, the gesture as casual as a blade to the gut. "Them's the breaks, kid. It was fun while it lasted, but it's time to face reality. You and me, we're never going to work. Best we both just cut our losses now."

Asher stares at me, his eyes glassy with tears, his lower lip trembling. For a moment, I think he'll argue, fight for me, for us, with that stubborn, unshakable faith that first drew me to him.

But then his shoulders slump, a shudder rippling through his slender frame. "If that's what you want," he whispers, defeat etched into every line of his face. "If I really mean so little to you, then... then go. Just go, Liam."

You mean everything to me , I want to howl. You're the only good, clean, real thing in my miserable fucking life, and I would burn the world to ash to keep you safe.

But I don't. I can't. So I just nod, once, like I'm accepting a business deal instead of ripping out my own fevered heart. And then I turn and walk out of the diner, out of the warmth and light of Asher's love.

Out of the only hope I've ever fucking known.

The rain has stopped when I step outside, the air cool and heavy with the scent of wet asphalt. I stand there for a long moment, staring blindly into the night, feeling something in me wither and die, turning to dust in the barren cavity of my chest.

And then I get into my car and drive. Not to the penthouse, with its cold opulence and echoing emptiness. Not to Finn's place, where I know he'll take one look at my face and try to pour whiskey and sympathy down my throat.

No, I drive to the only place that makes sense right now. The only place where I can let the poison inside me bleed out in peace.

The Emerald Serpent is nearly empty when I push through the doors, just a few hard-eyed regulars nursing their drinks in silence. I take a stool at the bar, signaling for a bottle of Jameson and a glass.

The bartender, a grizzled old fuck named Mickey, slides them over without a word, his eyes flickering over my face with a kind of weary understanding. He's seen me like this before, raw and flayed open, poisoned by my own demons.

I pour a generous measure of whiskey and toss it back, relishing the burn, the momentary flare of sensation in the numbness consuming me. And then I pour another. And another.

Somewhere around the fourth or fifth drink, Finn slips onto the stool beside me, his face creased with worry. "Liam," he says softly, laying a hand on my arm. "Brother. Talk to me."

I shake my head, staring down into the amber depths of my glass. "Nothing to talk about," I rasp, my voice like gravel. "It's over. Ended it with Asher, just like Declan wanted."

Finn inhales sharply, his fingers tightening on my forearm. "Shit, man. I'm sorry. I know how much he meant to you."

A bitter, broken laugh scrapes my throat raw. "Doesn't matter what he meant to me. What matters is keeping him safe. And the only way to do that is to stay the fuck away from him."

Finn is quiet for a long moment, the music from the jukebox a melancholy wail in the silence between us. "You really think that's the answer?" he asks at last, his voice gentle. "Pushing away the one good thing in your life, the one person who sees past all the bullshit to the real you?"

I close my eyes, Asher's stricken face swimming behind my lids. "The real me is a fucking monster, Finn," I whisper. "A killer. A thug. Asher deserves better than that. Better than me ."

"Maybe," Finn says softly. "Or maybe he deserves the chance to make that choice for himself. The chance to love you, darkness and all."

I knock back another shot, the whiskey doing nothing to dull the ache in my chest, the howling void where my heart used to be. "It's too late," I say dully. "I burned that bridge to ash. He'll never forgive me for the things I said, the way I hurt him."

Finn squeezes my arm, his callused palm rough and grounding against my skin. "It's never too late, brother. Not when it's real. Not when it's worth fighting for."

I open my mouth to argue, to tell him he's a naive fucking idiot. But before I can get the words out, my phone buzzes in my pocket, the ringtone shrill and urgent in the hushed bar.

I fumble it out, frowning at the screen. Mia's number flashes across the display, the sight of it sending a cold trickle of dread down my spine.

I answer with a terse "Yeah?", my pulse kicking into overdrive. There's a beat of silence, then Mia's voice comes over the line, high and panicked and laced with tears.

"Liam?" she sobs, the sound like a knife to the gut. "Liam, oh god, it's Asher. He's hurt. There was an attack, these men, they... they..."

The phone cracks in my white-knuckled grip, the world tilting sickeningly on its axis. "Where are you?" I demand, my voice a barely human rasp.

"Mercy Hospital," Mia chokes out. "Liam, please, hurry. It's... it's bad. He's lost so much blood..."

The line goes dead, but I'm already moving, shoving past a startled Finn and out into the night. Panic claws at my throat, horror and guilt a blinding red haze over my vision.

Asher. My sweet, shining boy, broken and bleeding in some sterile hospital bed. Because of me. Because of my sins, my poison, the darkness I brought into his life.

I peel out of the parking lot with a screech of tires, my heart a jackhammer against my ribs. I sent him away to keep him safe. Ripped my own fucking heart out to protect him from the monsters in my world.

But it wasn't enough. It was never going to be enough. And now the best thing that ever happened to me could be slipping away, the light in my life guttering out like a candle flame.

And it's all my fault. All my fucking fault.

I press down on the accelerator until the city blurs into a smear of neon and shadow, a wordless prayer spilling from my lips into the uncaring night.

Hold on, Asher. Hold on, sunshine. I'm coming. Just hold on.