Page 19 of Give Me You
I start to pull away, to put distance between us and rebuild the walls I usually keep up. But Liam tightens his hold slightly, not enough to trap me but enough to let me know he's not letting go unless I really want him to.
"Hey, this is just another one of those things, okay?" he says. "Take what you need from me. What happens in here doesn't need to go anywhere else."
The words break something in me. I just nod, too tired to argue, too overwhelmed to pretend I'm fine. Liam sits down on the couch across from my desk, and I curl up in his lap without thinking about it, his arms wrapping around me again.
"I only caught the back end, but we won't let Zaden take everything from you, okay?" Liam says.
"There isn't much you can do if all of the investors think I'm unfit," I say, my voice muffled against his chest.
The silence stretches between us, but it’s comfortable. It always has been with Liam. Almost like it’s too easy to just take what I need from this Alpha without feeling guilty for it. Liam's hand keeps moving in those soothing circles on my back, and I let myself just exist in this moment. No thinking about the vote or the Alpha I need to produce or the fact that my brother is trying to destroy me.
"Is the baby mine?" Liam asks after a while, his body tensing beneath mine.
The question makes me pause and then I curl up a little tighter, refusing to answer that question. "It doesn't matter who the father is. I'm going to do this on my own. None of the pack bullshit."
Liam is quiet for a moment. "Well, you have an Alpha in your corner if you need one. Just rest for a little bit, okay? For my sanity?"
I huff out a laugh. "You always did like cuddling after sex."
"There's no crime in that," Liam teases, amusement coating his words. "Everyone could use a cuddle, pretty boy. Even you."
Akira
It takes less time than expected to hunt down River. The bastard was holed up in a shitty apartment on the south side of the city, the kind of place where nobody asks questions and everybody minds their own business. Perfect for someone trying to lay low after fucking with the wrong people. Dante ended up coming with me, the Alpha wanting a bit more violence than what it took to lay Jax out.
Jax is still alive, but he won’t be functioning for a while.
Which is a good thing because I’m done with having people try to fuck me over.
Dante moves just inside River’s house and plants himself at the edge of the living room, his arms crossed over his chest as I stare at the sorry excuse of a Beta I got rid of a while back.
River glances between the two of us, the fucker dragging a hand through his ruffled hair with a sigh. He already knows this won't end well for him. His apartment reeks of stale beer and desperation, and someone definitely pulled the furniture from a dumpster. The whole place screams failure, and it pisses me off that this guy nearly killed Emilio. The walls have water stains creeping down from the ceiling, and the carpet looks like it hasn't been vacuumed in months. Empty beer bottles litter the coffee table, and a pizza box sits open on the counter with moldy crusts inside. This is what River's life became after I kicked him out?Pathetic.
I step closer, studying the Beta. He’s mid-thirties at best but his hair is already thinning, the tired look in his eyes no doubt from long nights trying to make it by. When I caught him skimming product and selling it for his own profit, I got rid of him, telling him if I ever saw him near my operation again, I'd break every bone in his body. Guess he thought I forgot about that threat. Or maybe he got desperate enough not to care. Either way, he fucked up. And now he's going to pay for it.
"Let's make this simple," I push out, the rage billowing around in my chest dripping from my words. River flinches, his shoulders hunching up around his ears like he's trying to make himself smaller. "You got a modified version of my product from Jax. What did you do with it?"
River swallows hard, his gaze darting between me and Dante. His hands twist together in his lap, knuckles white from how hard he's gripping them. "I sold it. That's what you do with product, right?"
Dante moves forward, ready to wrangle River to the floor but I hold up a hand to stop him. I want River to think he has a chance to talk his way out of this before we really get started. Let him think cooperation might save him. It won't, but the hope keeps people talking.
"To who?" I ask, keeping my tone as even as possible.
"Some guy at Aurum Pulse," River says, his words tumbling over each other. His expression screams nervousness, his leg bouncing up and down on the dirty carpet. "He wanted something special, something that would work faster. Said it was for himself."
Of course, it was someone from the club. Everything keeps circling back to that place, to Emilio, to the chaos that seems to follow him everywhere. "Name."
"The order came in for an Emilio Ardyn." River shrugs, avoiding my gaze. He knowsexactlywho Emilio is and while an order like that shouldn’t be ignored, everyone knows that Emilio doesn’t work around people. Emilio would have come to me if he needed something different.
"Bullshit," I snarl, stalking toward River, rage flooding through me. "I was with him the entire time and he doesn't sample any of the stock. He doesn't even fucking drink when he's working. Try again."
River holds up his hands, panic flashing across his face. His eyes go wide, darting between me and Dante again like he's looking for an escape route. "I'm just telling you what the guy said! He put the order in under that name, said he wanted it delivered before the big party. I didn't ask questions, man. I just made the sale."
Someone planned this whole thing, set it up so it would look like Emilio ordered it himself. They wanted him drugged and vulnerable. And River sold it to them without checking, without verifying, because he's a greedy piece of shit who only caresabout making a quick buck. He didn't care who got hurt as long as he got paid.
I cross the room in two strides and grab River by the front of his shirt, hauling him up off the couch. The fabric bunches in my fists, and I lift him until his feet barely touch the ground. He yelps, his hands scrabbling at mine, trying to pry my fingers loose. My grip tightens until I can feel the threads of his shirt starting to tear.
Dante moves closer, ready to jump in if I need him. But he knows better than to interfere unless I ask. He's seen me lose my temper before, knowing that sometimes I need to work through it physically before I can think straight again.
