Chapter Seven

SOPHIE

I left Warrior's Den feeling deflated. Seeing Liam get hurt tugged at my insides. His stubborn pride always got in the way of him accepting help, but today he finally gave in, allowing me to assist him with his injury. I got his ankle iced and wrapped up before sending him home to rest for a couple days.

I hoped he would take the time to recover properly, though I worried if he would be ready for the tournament. I promised to do my best to help him get there in the best shape possible. But what did the best shape look like, with injuries to his wrist and ankle?

One evening, I walked home from the grocery store, my arms heavy with a bag that held a week’s worth of dinners. My mind carried its own weight of thoughts. I kept going back to my time with Liam in the sauna.

I allowed him to get closer to me than anyone. Our bodies joined with a connection I never experienced before. I knew I could go back and forth, flirty one minute and trying to be professional in the next. It took two to play the game, only this time I wondered if I wanted to play for fun or for keeps.

“Keeps? Sure.” I questioned my logic as I mumbled to myself. Liam was the most up and coming fighter in Fury Combat, if not the entire sport of MMA at the moment. What made me think he’d want me to be along for the ride forever? One night at my place and a sexy hour in the sauna didn’t exactly equal long-term potential.

I kept walking while I carried the reusable grocery tote bag, the canned goods weighing down my arms. I knew how important Liam’s career was to him. As much as I began to care for him, I wouldn’t mess things up. Besides, I still had my secret search to complete. The last thing I wanted to do was get Liam mixed up in my hunt for a criminal. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, Liam’s presence gave me something pleasant and important to think about besides my stressful secret task.

Where was Jack hiding? Would Liam’s injuries heal in time for him to compete in the tournament? My steps were heavy with these different thoughts.

The chilly evening air seeped through my hoodie as I strode down the quiet street towards my condo, but it wasn't the cold sending shivers down my back. It was the uneasy prickle of being watched. I tried to dismiss it as leftover adrenaline from all the pressure I was dealing with to get Liam ready for his matches.

I reinforced my grip on the grocery bag, attempting to shake off the unease. It still clung to me. I’d walked this path home countless times, always enjoying the quiet after hours of coaching and strategizing with Liam in the gym. Tonight, the familiar route felt foreign.

Turning a corner, I caught a sudden movement. A silhouette etched against the dim glow of a streetlamp. My heart thumped, a rapid rhythm to match my footsteps. Tall with masculine angles, the figure stood motionless. An instinctual warning flared inside me.

Was it him? Was it Jack?

Reaching into my jeans pocket, my fingers brushed the cool metal of my pepper spray canister. Keep walking , I coached myself. Eyes forward. Stay alert.

But damn, my pulse wouldn't steady, and the anxiety refused to let go.

I stepped up the pace on the pavement. Each exhale came out uneven as I failed to calm the stress knotted in my belly. I tried to shake off the sensation of eyes boring into my back, but it clung to me like a second shadow.

I could almost feel the grit beneath my sneakers, each stride pushing me forward. My mind replayed every self-defense drill I learned in the academy. Just in case.

The streetlights cast long shadows that twisted and stretched with my own, warping my perception. Was that one too long? Too broad?

And then, cutting through the cold, I caught a scent. Cigarettes tinged with mint. The combination was odd, distinct, and carried with it ghosts of conversations I had with my sister. "When he mugged us, he smelled like tobacco and candy," Grace would say, usually with a grimace after.

The scent was woven into my memories. That was how he smelled in his holding cell, too. It meant Jack Thornton. It meant danger.

I scanned the darkness for any sign of him. Jack had a reason to come looking for me, after I tried and failed to get more charges put on him. And now, with me poking around, trying to put him away for good...

Forcing my legs to keep moving, I drew in a deep breath. The cool air pressed needles into my lungs. Get home. This was not the time for confrontation, not when I was this exposed.

Somewhere behind me, the feeling lingered that I wasn’t alone.

My thoughts spiraled with each step. Had my past as a cop trained my senses, or was I just jumping at imaginary boogeymen?

The figure loomed in my peripheral vision, and my heart jerked. Without warning, my shoulder collided with something solid. Disoriented, I looked up, ready to fight or flee.

"Watch whe—" My voice broke off as my eyes met those of the figure before me.

Liam's green eyes pierced the dim light, his tall frame between me and the darkness. "Sophie? What are you doing out here by yourself?"

I blinked, trying to slow my pulse, to anchor myself back in the reality that it was Liam, not a tricky felon standing before me.

"Getting groceries," I said, the words tasting like dust on my tongue.

“You should’ve taken a cab home.” He frowned, the shadows playing across his face. The ankle injury had taken its toll. I could tell by the small hitch in his step.

"Why are you here?" I pushed the question out, my voice steady despite the tremor that wanted to break through. "Shouldn’t you be off that ankle?"

"I couldn't let you walk home alone." He brushed off my worry for his own well-being. "Streets aren't safe at night, you know that."

“How did you know it was me?”

"I live close to the store. I thought I saw you leaving. I figured it wasn’t safe for you to be out here on your own."

“You could’ve called me.”

“I did. It went to voicemail.”

I balanced the grocery bag in one arm as I pulled my phone from the pocket of my hoodie. Sure enough, Liam’s missed call was right there on the screen. “Must’ve lost reception in the store.”

“I came out to check on you.” I could feel the pull of his gaze. He stood there, favoring one leg over the other, but his stance was firm.

"Your ankle," I started, but he cut me off with a casual shrug.

"Doesn't matter." The corners of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You getting home safe is what counts."

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket. In another life, I might have brushed off his chivalry. But here, now, the concern made me feel seen. Cherished, wanted.

"Thanks.” My gratitude mingled with a new sense of security.

"Let's get you home." Liam took the grocery bag from me and motioned down the street. I nodded, falling into step beside him.

As we walked, our silence was comfortable. Every so often, I’d steal a glance at his profile. His jaw was set, but he had a wince he couldn't quite hide with each step.

"Stubborn," I murmured, half to myself, half to him.

"Look who’s talking," he retorted without missing a beat.

I resisted a small laugh bubbling up inside me. We were two sides of the same coin, fighting our battles, guarding our secrets.

By the time we reached my condo, the unease had all but dissolved. I turned the key and the lock clicked open. I stepped into my living space. Liam followed, his frame filling the doorway.

"Thanks again," I said, dropping my keys onto the table by the door. "You don't have to stay. I'll be fine."

He shook his head. “No way I’m leaving you alone tonight. Something's got you shaken up.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him I could take care of myself, but the memory of being watched crept back. I knew better than to dismiss my instincts. They had kept me alive more times than I cared to count.

"Alright," I conceded, exhaling slowly. "But only if you get on the couch. You need to keep your ankle elevated."

"Deal." He nodded, easing himself onto the plush fabric. His eyes never left mine, the clear jade irises reflecting care and something else harder to place.

I got a pillow and a blanket from the hall closet, handing them to him. “You want some tea?” I asked as I retreated to the kitchen.

“If you got a little whiskey to pour in it, sure.”

“Sorry, all out.”

“I’ll still take a cup. It’s pretty cold out.”

I added water to the kettle before hitting the button to start heating it up. “That reminds me, I need to bring my bay laurel inside.” I crossed the hall back to the door. I opened it, pausing as I stared out into the night. A streetlamp flickered across the street.

I heard footsteps behind me. “Everything okay out there, Soph?” Liam’s voice came from over my shoulder.

I blinked out of my trance. “Just spaced out for a second.”

Liam’s brow creased before he stepped past me to reach for my potted laurel tree. “It’s not like you. I’m a little worried.”

“You don’t have to be. I’m fine.” I stepped aside and allowed him to bring my favorite plant inside.

His face was nothing but handsome angles and skepticism as he looked at me before setting the plant down by the door.

The kettle whistled from the kitchen. “Can you lock the door for me?” I asked him before I went to grab two mugs from the cupboard. I poured the water and steeped two tea bags. The delicate aroma of chamomile soon blossomed up from the kitchen table.

Liam came and sat down. "Thank you," he said, accepting the mug. Our fingers brushed, sending a familiar warm tingle through me. He looked at me over the mug, his expression an unspoken signal that he wasn’t buying my unbothered act.

I guess it was time for me to come clean. Heart thumping again, I finished stirring honey into my tea. "Years ago, a guy mugged my dad and little sister as they were walking home. Dad ended up having a heart attack and stroke from the trauma.”

"Oh, Sophie." Liam’s voice carried sympathy. The space of a breath passed before he exhaled. “I’m sorry. No wonder you were on edge out there.”

I set the spoon down with a sigh and went on to tell the rest of the story. “I tried to get the guy. He ended up going to jail for something else, but I could never prove he was the one who came after my family.”

He shook his head. “That’s tough, and not fair. I can’t imagine what it’s like to see someone you love be hurt and not get justice for it. You were brave to go after him.”

I refused to accept his praise. “Maybe I’m just petty because I want the guy to stay locked up instead of walking the streets. I know he’ll harm somebody else. My dad is just now fully recovering.”

Liam’s hand came to rest on mine. “Wanting someone to pay for causing real harm doesn’t make you petty. It makes you human.”

My confession left me feeling exposed, but with Liam, it felt safe to let those walls crumble.

"Come here," he said, and it wasn't a command, but an offer. Our fingers intertwined naturally, as if they were meant to fit together all along. "You're not alone."

We moved closer, and the space between us became charged. His lips met mine with a tenderness.

Our kiss deepened. The world outside faded away as we sought comfort in each other. I took him into my bedroom. There, clothes were shed, and as we made love, it was more than just a physical act. It was two people finding peace in each other. Each touch, every kiss, whispered of understanding and a recognition of the scars we each carried on our bodies and hearts.

I allowed myself to get lost in the connection. We moved together, chasing a release that was as much emotional as it was physical.

Afterwards, the quiet hum of the city outside barely registered as I lay cradled in the crook of Liam’s arm. His heartbeat was a soothing drum.

"I didn't know if I could ever let someone in," his low murmur vibrated through me.

"Me neither. But with you, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.” I let the vulnerable words flow from my heart.

We lay there, our breathing synchronizing, the weight of our pasts somehow lighter since we shared them. The night pressed on outside, but in here, it couldn't touch us. This moment was ours alone.

"Get some rest, Sophie," Liam whispered as we lay together, sheets tangled. “You’ll need it to help me get in gear tomorrow.”

Drifting on the edge of sleep, my last conscious thought was a promise. A vow to keep this peace we'd discovered, and to protect it with everything I had. From Jack. From the world. In Liam's arms, I wasn't just safe. I was home.