Page 98 of Because I Liked A Boy
The street swayed in front of me, chest heaving, breaths shallow and broken. That scream high, desperate was carved into me like a wound that would never close.
My hand shook as I pulled out my phone. Ruby was too far. Hunter—no. Never again. My contact list was nearly empty of the people I needed most, but one name lived in me like a scar: Liam.
I didn’t have his number anymore. New phone. New life. But I knew wherehe worked.
With trembling fingers, I typed his name into Google. The first hit was his company, Halcyon Global—sleek, soulless, corporate. My vision swam as I scrolled, found the office number, and pressed call before I could lose my nerve.
“Reception, Halcyon Global.” A woman’s voice, bright, professional.
The words ripped out of me, cracked and raw. “I need Liam Carter. Please. It’s—it’s urgent.”
A pause. Shuffling. Then another voice, lower, clipped, familiar. “Isabella?”
The sound of my name in his mouth broke something in me. My knees buckled, and I stumbled back against the stone wall, the phone slick in my palm.
“Liam.” My chest convulsed. “I—I went—I saw him—I tried—Penny—” The words tangled into sobs. My breaths came too fast, shallow, like my lungs had been stitched shut.
“Jesus Christ.” The scrape of a chair, the thud of something dropped. His voice sharpened, steel under panic. “Are you outside? Where are you?”
The world around me blurred—headlights flashing too bright, the city humming like it was alive and cruel. My pulse thundered, louder than the cars hissing by, louder than the blood rushing in my head. But his voice cut through it all like a blade, tethering me to something real, something that wasn’t terror.
“I—I don’t—” My vision spotted, black creeping in. My hands clawed at my chest, desperate for air. “I can’t—breathe—”
“Isabella.” His voice cut through the static in my head, low and commanding, the tone I’d always obeyed. “Listen to me. Count. One.”
I choked on the number, gasping.
“Two.”
The world tilted, but I clung to him, to the weight of his voice.
“Three.”
My breath caught, sharp and broken—but it came.
“Stay put,” Liam growled, the kind of vow that brooked no refusal. “Don’t you fucking move. I’m coming to get you.”
“Liam—he—he hit me—” The words spilled out jagged, torn. “He’s making her—married—she doesn’t even know—”
“Enough.” His fury cracked down the line, rough with fear. “You should never have gone alone, Isabella. You know what kind of man he is.”
Tears blurred everything, but I clung to the phone like it was a lifeline. “I had to,” I whispered, stubborn even now. “I had to see her.”
Silence stretched, his breathing harsh in my ear. Then softer, steadier, like a tether: “Stay alive until I get there. That’s all you need to do.”
The line clicked dead.
And I waited.
Headlights carved through the dark, cutting me raw. Tires hissed across wetpavement. A door slammed.
“Isabella!”
His voice tore through me like oxygen. I turned, every part of me shaking, and there he was—Liam. Striding toward me in long, furious steps, his tie askew, his sleeves shoved to his elbows like he hadn’t wasted a second.
The moment his eyes found my face—my cheek raw and swollen, something in him snapped. His jaw locked. His eyes darkened. For one terrifying beat, I thought he’d storm back inside and take on my father with nothing but his bare hands.
Instead, he caught me by the arms, grounding me. “What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was sharp, but it shook.
