Page 23 of A Simple Mistake (Deadly Mistakes #1)

TWENTY-THREE

Gabriel

Present

Michaels made us go home as evening crept in. He tried getting us to go home to sleep several other times, but every time I turned around, Liam was running off to do something else. His theory that the killer had this set up for days seemed to be correct once people started looking into everything he had set up. The man was simply waiting for the right moment to play his game.

But now that I’m lying in bed at Chris’s house, my body heavy with exhaustion, I feel anxious. Yet I’m so fucking tired that when I close my eyes, sleep drifts over me.

He’s leaning over me, the white mask flashing in the darkness of the room. I can hear someone screaming, begging, pleading. The stench of blood assaults my senses. Rick’s begging for his head back, and when I look, the headless man is crawling toward me, asking where it is. But how the fuck is he asking when he doesn’t even have a head?

That’s when the killer shoves me down, smashing my face against the ground as he pins me there.

“Did you really think you could hide?” he asks as he looms over me, and the sound of the camera snapping another picture tears me out of my sleep.

I jerk awake and grab for a light. The room is oppressing, the darkness tightening around me as he lurks in the corner. Watching me. In my panic, my hand slams into the lamp on the nightstand, causing it to teeter before it falls off and shatters on the ground.

It feels like someone is squeezing my stomach, ripping it out, tearing it apart as I scramble out of the bed, tripping on the sheets and hitting the floor.

The door is flung open and the light is flipped on as Chris looks in.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry. It was just a dream and… I panicked,” I say as I get up.

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. It was a shitty lamp that was here when we moved in.”

I reach over to clean up the mess, but Chris waves me off. “We’ll deal with it in the morning. Get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Okay.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, fine.”

He gives me a smile and heads out, hitting the light as he goes, but I quickly turn on my phone’s flashlight before deciding it’s not enough and rushing over to turn on the bedroom light. Only once I check every corner do I crawl back into bed. After five minutes of staring at the broken lamp, I get up and find a dustpan and broom. When a large piece won’t sweep into the pan, I reach down and grab it, cutting the tip of my finger and smearing blood onto the glass.

“Fuck,” I hiss as my mind runs off without me.

I head downstairs and look out into the dark night at my car sitting in the driveway. It’s really not that far away.

“You alright?” Chris asks, making me jump. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Sorry, I’m on edge. When I’m on edge, I usually make Lucille sit with me.”

He watches me for a moment. “Do you want me to drive you over to see her?”

“I’m not going to bother Liam to sit with my cat.”

“You actually think Liam’s going to care?” he asks.

No… but I feel like I shouldn’t. I feel like the moment I run to him then this wall that I’m trying so fucking hard to keep up between us is going to crumble. I’m going to forgive him for what he is. I’m going to look beyond the fact that he’s killed people… multiple people… that he’s the definition of a serial killer… just because he’s Liam.

“I can drive you there.”

“I’m not putting you in danger to make you drive me to my cat,” I say.

“The option is there. It’s only like five minutes away. He can come here.”

“It’s the cat, not Liam.”

Chris gives me a look like I’m not fooling anyone.

I’m teetering, but who am I kidding, I’m not escaping from this desire to go to him. “Just watch me as I go out to the car.”

“I will. But I can drive you.”

I shake my head and go back upstairs for my gun. With it in hand, I rush out to my car, where I check the back seat and even the trunk before getting into it. Then I quickly drive to Liam’s.

The drive is fast—five minutes like Chris said—but I feel like the killer is waiting around every corner. I feel like I can’t stop the car or he’ll bust through the window. I roll through stop signs, never slowing enough for him to reach me, and push the speed limits down the suburban roads.

And when I near Liam’s house, I finally get up the courage to call him.

“Gabriel?” he says, and his voice calms my thundering heart.

“I want to see Lucille.”

“Oh… kay? I can send you a picture of her. Or do you want me to bring her to you?”

“I want to see her. So I’m coming over. And I want you to come out to the car to get me.”

“I’ll be right there,” he says before I hang up.

I pull into the driveway and find Liam standing in the middle of it, leaning against the trunk of his own car. He’s not even afraid of the dark as he stands out there, risking it all for me. While I fear every shadow, he seems to thrive in it.

I hastily text Chris that I’m fine and get out of the vehicle and face him.

“I wanted to see Lucille,” I announce.

“So you said,” he responds, but the way he watches me makes me feel like he sees right through me. That he knows that I wanted to see him more than anything; that I felt like I was teetering on the edge without him with me.

“Did I wake you up?” I ask. Our conversation feels stilted. It’s like we’re both searching for answers that neither of us can find.

“No. I was staring at the ceiling, running everything through my head again and again, so really, that’s the only fun you interrupted. I told Lucy Fur that you were coming, and she hissed at me.”

“I had a dream he was in the room with me,” I admit.

“How would he have gotten through the security system?” Liam asks.

“I don’t know… but he can figure it out. He can figure it all out.”

“He’s still human. Come on,” he says as he reaches for me, but when I don’t go to him, he turns and heads toward the door.

What he doesn’t know is how fucking hard it is to keep myself from going to him, from caving to the desire rushing through me. I have to pretend that I don’t want to rush forward and grab on to him. And I could say it’s only because I want him to protect me, because he’s what makes me feel safe… but that’d be a lie. Back when we were partners, I’d found myself more and more in love with him until I discovered what he had done… but shouldn’t that have erased all of those feelings?

I slowly follow after him and step into the house.

“She’s in my bed,” Liam says as he locks the door and sets his security system.

I hurry over to his bedroom and see Lucille curled up in the heated bed next to his pillow, but what I see on his pillow is the shirt I’d left for her.

“Were you cuddling my shirt?”

“No, I was covering my face with it to protect it. She strikes at random.”

I raise an eyebrow, but he gives me a challenging look.

“Go on. Get on up in there. Maul her, eat more of her hair while I watch, or would you prefer me to not watch?”

“Why are you making this sound so awkward?” I ask as I climb onto the bed and wrap Lucille up in my arms while she purrs up a storm.

“I’m not making it sound like anything. I’m just explaining it like it is,” Liam says. “You two have fun with your mauling session. I’ll set up camp on the couch.”

“No, I’m not kicking you out of your bed,” I protest, meaning that I can go to the couch, but I can’t bring myself to say the rest of that.

He seems uncertain, maybe thinking that’s an invite. He sets a knee on the edge of the bed before climbing up onto it. For some reason, I find myself rolling onto my back as Lucille jumps out of my arms, and he clearly sees it as an invitation. Liam swings a leg over mine as his hands drift up to my cheeks. His fingers sink into my hair, and I tilt my head into his hand, loving the feel of it.

Liam leans down, and it feels like my heart is thundering out of my chest. There’s something hypnotizing about this man. There’s something that drives me into the unknown. My eyes flick down to his lips as I realize that if I let him kiss me, if I give in to this desire, I’ll never be able to pull myself away.

The betrayal I felt the day I found him in the barn hits me. Who the fuck knows what else he’s done? It’s not like he’s an open book. It’s not like he’s willingly handing over the shit he’s done.

That’s not true. If I asked Liam, I bet he’d tell me. So isn’t it that I’m afraid to ask him?

I tilt my head away from him and he jerks back like I’ve shot him. His hand draws away from me, and regret fills me when he rolls off and onto his back as if in defeat. And I hate it. I hate it so much… but what the fuck do I do?

“Would you like me to sleep on the floor so I’m still in the same room?” he asks, the cocky tone he usually holds seeming to have left his voice. “Would that make you feel safest?”

I reach out and grab his shirt, but what the fuck am I doing with it? What the fuck do I have to gain by holding on but pushing him away? Why can’t I let go? Why can’t I get away?

His hand reaches out like he wants to touch me before drawing back, and I know it’s because of me. Because I turned away. “Gabriel, I promise I’ll kill him. And then I’ll let you get back to your life.”

“What if I don’t want that?” I say as I drag myself to him. I swing my leg over his waist and grab his face tightly in my hand. “Why the fuck can’t I step away from you?”

“You can. I can leave. After he’s dead, I’ll leave, and your life can go back to normal.”

“I don’t even know what normal is.”

“Normal is a life without me in it.”

I shake my head, hating that idea. Hating it so much. “No… I just… I don’t want that.”

Liam’s looking up at me, refusing to touch me. Refusing to move. It’s like he’s scared the lightest flinch will cause me to pull away. And maybe it will, but I don’t know what I want—or better yet, I don’t know why I want him.

“I don’t understand you,” I say.

“You don’t have to.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about you. I feel safest when I’m with you.”

“Then you can use me.”

“I don’t want to use you, Liam. I want…” I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if I’ll ever know what I want if I keep standing in the middle of this whirlwind of emotions.

He sits up, and I drop down to my ass on his thighs.

“I should go. I’m going to make a mistake if I don’t go,” I say.

Liam watches me closely before nodding. “I’ll drive you back to Chris’s. Lucille is fine with me, I promise.”

“Tell me to stay.”

“I will not tell you to stay. The look on your face when you stepped into that barn will forever bother me. I ruined everything. And I can’t prove to you that I won’t ever kill someone again,” he says as he cups my face. “I fucked it all up and I’m not sure I can keep myself from fucking it up again, no matter how much I wish I was the person you needed.”

I can feel his breath on my neck, on my ear… I can feel his thighs beneath my ass, the way his body feels tense. How the fuck can I make this man who cares about nothing care so much about me?

“You didn’t fuck up.”

“If I wasn’t a monster, you would be in my arms right now.”

“Even being a monster, I’m in your arms,” I say before slamming my lips against his. The kiss is feverish. My hand digs into his hair, tugging his head back like I want to pull him off me, but every time he tries to give me space, I follow him, wanting more. I want to touch him, feel him… but I also want to run from him.

Can I really love a man who’s done what he’s done? How is that right? He goes against everything I’ve dedicated my life to, and still, when his lips part, mine immediately open in response. I’m mesmerized by him. Tempted by him.

Liam rolls me onto my back as I pull him in deeper, my tongue battling with his. He pushes my shirt up as his lips break from mine and he runs kisses down my chest while his fingers dip beneath the band of my sweats, fingers sliding down my cock. A part of me feels like I’m going to get devoured by this man and another part wants nothing more than to be devoured.

He pushes the sweats down, freeing my cock as his fingers glide up my length, and I lift my hips to kick my sweats off. His eyes snap up, latching on to mine as he takes the head of my cock into his mouth and sinks down on me.

There’s something about this that feels wrong, but how the fuck does it feel that much more right? My fingers slide into his hair, wanting to feel him, but never tugging enough to pull him off. It’s not like I need control. I know if I even looked like I wanted out, he’d step back in a second. Liam’s watching me closely, gauging my reactions as his tongue traces along my length, his hot breath on my wet tip. He wants to make sure I’m not preparing to run, but how the fuck can I run from him? It seems like no matter how hard I try, I find myself drawn right back in.

Maybe it’s some fucked-up carnal desire, and after this I can finally think again.

Who am I kidding? I know this is doing nothing but deepening my emotions.

A moan escapes me as he sinks down my cock, taking me deeper into his mouth. He pushes his pants down enough to stroke his own length, and I’m hypnotized by the visual displayed before me.

Pleasure is rolling through me, sapping all fight out of me as my free hand digs into the sheets, and I have to keep myself from bucking my hips because it feels so fucking good.

I can’t take too much more. My body feels more sensitive than it ever has. Has anything ever felt this damn amazing? Is it because I know I shouldn’t have him? Is it because I know I should pull away that my mind is so wrapped up in the blissful sensations?

“Fuck… I’m going to come… Liam,” I mumble, finding it hard to coerce the words to come out right when I can’t even seem to remember how words work.

He doesn’t pull off; if anything, he sinks down deeper as I come, and he swallows it down like he’s not happy until he’s had all of me. And as he draws off my cock, he pushes up until his lips crash against mine. His hand moves over his dick until I feel hot liquid strike my stomach while he moans.

Liam sinks down, laying his head on my lap as his arms wrap around me. “Don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I respond, confused why he’d say such a thing.

He’s quiet, holding me tightly as my mind races until I see Lucille climb out of her heated bed, stretch, and then whap Liam on the side of head.

A laugh escapes me. I can’t help it. I don’t know why but it shatters the tension between us.

“I told you she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“I’m pretty sure she does, but honestly, I care more about what you think,” he says.

“I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t know how I feel or if I can even understand any of this. But for tonight… just let me have this.”

“I will let you have anything you want,” Liam promises as I let my fingers trail through his hair. “I’ll even let you have a Kleenex.” He pats around for one to clean me up with.

“That’s mighty nice of you.”

“I’m a gentleman,” he says as I lie down after we clean up. I assume he’ll climb up beside me, but instead, he stays tucked against me, head now against my chest, arms wrapped around my body. It’s like he’s prepared to never let me go. Lucille is having no part of this. She walks across his face to get closer to me, but not even that gets a grumble out of him. He’s quite pleased and I think he believes that if he doesn’t move, I won’t make him get off me.

But instead, I tug the blankets over us as Lucille finds a good spot to sleep, which means her ass is in his face, but not even that will deter him.

“Are you happy now?”

“Extremely,” he mutters against me as his hand trails down my arm to pick up my hand. He runs his thumb over my fingertips like he’s mesmerized by them before freezing. “You have a cut.”

“It’s a very tiny cut.”

Liam kisses my finger. “How did you get cut?”

“I broke a lamp. Are you going to fuck up the lamp for me?”

“If that’s what you want.”

I smile as I realize that the anxiety that’s twisted around in the pit of my stomach every day since I escaped that cellar seems to have released its grip on me for the first time in a long while.

“Your cat hates me,” Liam grumbles.

I glance down at Lucille, who kicks him in the face a couple of times as she tries to get comfortable.

“Nah. I think she likes you… and I think I do too.” I whisper that last part, but the squeeze of his arms tells me he heard me.