Page 114 of Broken Trails
He scoffs, stepping forward. “I think who my wife is fucking is very much my business.”
Michael takes a step too. “She’s not your wife anymore.”
Liam huffs out a low, mirthless laugh. But his eyes are dark, poisoned with rage. “She’s yours now, is she? I mean, really, Zoe,” he continues. “You used to have standards.”
My spine snaps straight. “No. I didn’t.” I meet his stare. “Now, I do.”
Michael’s breath is hard and uneven, his chest rising and falling like he’s holding back everything he wants to do.
“Fuck you,” Liam spits out.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Michael growls in warning.
Liam’s lips curl. “This is what you’re throwing your life away for? A drunk teenager with no future?” His gaze cuts sideways. “You should be embarrassed.”
The audacity. He knows nothing, but I don’t care anymore about what he thinksorassumes.
Liam snarls, spit flying, before his lip curls again. “She’s useless now anyway. Just a whore.”
Before I can move, before I can even breathe—
He spits.
On me. A thick, wet glob that hits my leg and makes me flinch.
And that’s it.
It happens fast—too fast to fully process. A car screeches into the curb. Headlights flash. Doors open in a flurry, and figures pour out. But I barely register them. Because Michael is already moving. He lunges. One fist—hard, brutal—lands square against Liam’s jaw. His head snaps sideways, body staggering back. His spit and blood sprays across the dirt driveway.
Then another punch. This one is heavier, more savage. Liam grunts and stumbles, but manages to land one back, clipping Michael’s cheekbone. The sound of it makes my stomach twist.
“Stop!” I reach forward, grabbing Michael’s arm with both hands. “Please. That’s enough.”
I’m not saying it for Liam. Not even a little. I’m saying it for Michael. Because he shouldn’t have to do this. He shouldn’t have to bleed for me. And then I smell it. The thick, unmistakable stench of alcohol on Liam’s breath. And beneath that, sweet perfume. A woman’s.
Of course. He came here after fucking someone else. I stare at him, my entire body humming with disgust. How dare he come here, now, with her still on his skin?
Shouting rises behind me. Harrison. Xavier. Isla. Imogen.
They’rehere. How?
Imogen barrels toward me, Isla close behind. “He texted us,” Imogen says breathlessly. “Michael. He texted before everything went down.” But I can’t process that yet. Not with what’s unfolding in front of me. Harrison’s got a firm grip on Michael, arms locked around his chest, trying to hold him back. Xavier is on Liam in seconds, one fist clutching the collar of his shirt, towering over him like a shadow. Liam, to his credit, tries to square his shoulders. But he’s nothing next to Xavier. Puny, in comparison. Outmatched in every way.
Blood pours from Liam’s nose, streaking his face and chin.
“I warned you,” Michael growls, still held in place by Harrison. “That’s the last time you speak to her like that.”
Liam wipes his mouth. “Tell your fucking guard dogs to back off, Zoe.”
I step forward, voice steady. “No. I told you to leave.”
He scoffs, lips slick with red. “You think this is over? You’ll come crawling back. You always do.”
“No.” My voice is anything but uncertain. “I won’t.”
His laugh is cracked and bitter. “You really think this prick can make you happy? You’re too high-maintenance to last in this dump of a town.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” Xavier growls, giving him a shove that sends him stumbling backward.
