Page 91 of Debt of My Soul

My mother turns to me. “Was it worth it, Liam? To align yourself with the scum of this town. Do you know how many families he’s hurt? The lives he destroys with his drugs. And you’re part of that!”

Fleur’s hand grazes my thigh from next to me. Elbows on the table, I prop my chin in my palm, flicking my gaze over her.Back straight as a board, she’s red-faced and clearly frustrated with the situation. Her attempt to console me with contact does something to me.

It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, from my mother. It’s the price I pay to keep her from knowing why I work for Darrin, what the original reason for me coming back to Ruin was in the first place. I take it. Let her think what she will—all for my brother, who’d rather continue in his ways and throw me under the bus, still.

The chime of the grandfather clock in the corner punctuates my mother’s tirade. Her eyes dart back and forth between Fleur and me.

“I’m sure Liam was keeping Fleur safe, Mom. He’ll do the right thing when the time comes,” Adam says, as he shoves a pile of sweet potatoes into his mouth. He’s the only one eating, and I ignore the rumble of my stomach.

I narrow my eyes at him, at his tone. His assumption I’ll let Fleur go as soon as it’s safe or until he’s garnered the money owed Darrin is vexing. My nostrils flare in his direction and it takes a gentle squeeze to my knee for me to realize I’m huffing air out audibly.

Her fingers are so small, but the desire they spark as they dance along my leg is anything but. I glance down at her hand still hovering on my knee. Folds of white fabric from the tablecloth brush across her wrist as she keeps her hand there. The light pink nail polish on her fingers is a dichotomy against my dark pants.

“Well, I hope that’s true, for your case, Adam, because?—”

Fleur’s hand drops from my knee, and she tenses.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Parker. While Adam was pivotal with my renovation, we were never an item. I hired him as a contractor, paid him as one. I was upfront with Adam about my past and valued his friendship. As for Liam, I can imagine it wasa shock to hear about the marriage through the grapevine, but he came to my rescue. The marriage was … convenient, yes. But I’ll never be able to repay him for what he’s done for me.”

Fleur holds my gaze as she says this and my heart stutters with each word. With each gulp and bob of her throat, I know she’s nervous, trying to keep the information truthful but vague at the same time. But does she mean that? Has her view of me truly changed?

I push the collard greens around on my plate while the warmth curling in my stomach hampers my appetite. Her support and the confidence she has in my motivations are astounding. Especially because I’m starting to question my own.

Did I take advantage?

Can I let her go?

The answer to both is no.

For the first time, I don’t feel so alone in this. Agent Wilson would argue I have him, but this has been a one-man show for the long haul, even before I started with the agency.

I can’t want her. No attachments; nothing to compromise the mission. But I’m dangerously close to running away with her, to keep her safe.

Adam appears less than thrilled with Fleur’s interruption, and my mother … she looks flattened in her wing-backed chair. I couldn’t be prouder.

“Already pitching your angle, huh?” Adam asks me. His fists bunch the tablecloth, wrinkling it in ire. “Having her indebted to you, rescuing her. Is this the sales pitch?”

I chuckle with disdain, and my father tenses at the sound. He knows I’m hanging by a thread.

“I’ve been upfront with her. Which is more than you can say,” I bark.

This was a mistake. My grandfather told me to be careful with the family drama surrounding this, and I waltzed in here like some naive asswipe.

Banging the table, I push to stand, holding my brother’s stare. I dare him to continue this. I’ll lay it all out on the table regardless of what it will do to my mother. We already walk on eggshells with her regarding our sister. I’m not about to sit here and take this.

Rolling my shoulders, I turn to Fleur, who’s gazing up at me. “Give me a minute.”

And like the ass I am, I walk out the door.

Chapter 36

Fleur

Pressed against the front window, I watch Liam pace at the truck. He rips his bun out, letting his hair fall before clenching it with his fists.

Mr. and Mrs. Parker are talking in the kitchen while Adam devours the peach cobbler smothered in vanilla ice cream back at the table. None of them hold my interest, my eyes are only on the man fuming outside.

Usually, I’m the one avoiding drama, not interjecting myself in the middle of it. But something snapped in me at the way Liam’s mother looked at him. How can a man pay a debt for his brother to protect him, yet receive zero respect? Adam’s entitled behavior is disturbing.

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