Unchosen Ruler by Maggie Cole

19

Hailee

The music goes off,the oven stops beeping, and the sound of the door slamming hits my ears. I wait for what feels like forever until I hear a car start. Several more minutes pass. I remove my top, pull Liam's T-shirt over my head, then go out to the kitchen.

His palms are on the island. He's taking deep breaths with his eyes shut. He's still shirtless, and for the first time, I notice the bandage wrapped around his forearm.

I slide my arms around his waist. "Are you okay?"

His back stiffens. He pauses, then says, "Yeah." He spins and slides his hands through my hair. "I said I'd bring you dinner. Why are you out here?"

I can't help noticing the shift in his eyes. Sadness fills them, and I instantly panic. "Why was your mom here?"

He slowly exhales and looks at the ceiling.

I place my hand over his heart. It's beating faster than normal. "Liam?"

His jaw clenches. He blinks hard and finally looks down but at the top of my head. His eyes glisten, and in a neutral voice, he says, "She wants me to go to the doctor with her and my dad tomorrow. She thinks he's getting worse."

I reach for his cheeks and tilt his head down so he can't avoid me. "I'm sorry. Do you want me to go with you? I can use one of my personal days."

He shakes his head. "No. It's best if you go to work. There isn't anything anyone can do anyway."

Minutes pass in silence. I don't know what to say. I wish there were something I could do to offer some sort of comfort, but everything seems like empty words.

"Let's eat. It smells great." He takes my hand and kisses it.

I reach for his arm above where the bandage is. "Hey, what did you do to your forearm?"

His lips twitch. "I got a new tattoo."

"Really? What of? Can I see it?"

He glances at the clock. "After dinner, it'll be time for me to remove the bandage and wash it."

"You aren't going to tell me what it is?"

His eyes nervously scan mine. "It's two Celtic hearts. One upside down and one right side up."

"Like for eternity?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

His face and voice turn to worry. "You don't like Celtic hearts?"

"I do. But I didn't picture you as a heart tattoo kind of guy," I admit.

"It's a symbol. And there's something else on it," he states.

"What?"

"I'll show you after dinner." He steps away and walks around the island. He reaches into the cabinet and takes two plates out then puts a serving of Shepherd's Pie on each one. He sets the food down, and we sit on the bar stools.

He takes a bite. "This is good, Hales."

"Isn't it? I was skeptical when my sister made it the first time." I put a forkful in my mouth, and the sweet potatoes mix with the beef and carrots in perfection.

He takes another bite then admits, "When I was a kid, my mom used to make Shepherd's Pie. When I got to prison, they had mashed potatoes a lot. It was all from a box. Nothing ever tasted good. Every time I saw the lump of white on my plate next to the mystery meat, I pretended it was my mom's Shepherd's Pie so I could get it down."

Liam never talks a lot about his time in prison, and I haven't asked him about it. The thought of him caged like an animal physically hurts. I put my arm on his back and lean closer. "Were you scared?"

He drops his fork and faces me. "Yeah. When I got there, I thought I would never survive. If Finn hadn't been on my cell block, I'm not sure I would have. Anything vile on earth existed inside those walls."

"And you met my father? Even though you were on a different cell block?"

His face hardens further. "Yeah. He tried to kill me the first night I was there."

"What?" My pulse quickens. I sit straighter in my chair.

He pauses then asks, "Hales, do you know who the man I killed was?"

"The one who murdered Nora's father," I state.

Liam licks his lips and studies me. "Yes. But who he was?"

Uneasiness fills my belly. I'm not sure why. "I read online his name was Danny Walsh."

He continues staring at me.

New nerves swirl in my gut. I ask, "What about him?"

"He was your father's cousin on his mother's side."

"Oh." I look at the food, unsure how I'm supposed to feel, but I don't feel anything warm and fuzzy for this blood relative of mine. I glance back at Liam. "What did my father do to try and kill you?"

He shifts in his chair. "We don't need to talk about it."

"I want to know."

He shakes his head. "No. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Liam, tell me."

His eyes turn to slits. "Why? What's it going to accomplish?"

"I want to know what my father is capable of," I admit.

"You already have the answers to that. You remember what he did to your mother. What more do you need to know?"

Liam is right. I don't need any more proof of what a monster my father is, but something in me wants to know. I quietly ask again, "What did he do, Liam?"

He grinds his molars and taps his fingers on his thigh, avoiding my gaze.

I wait for what seems like forever. Liam's body never moves, except for his chest from his deep breaths. I finally turn his chin toward me.

The hatred I see in his eyes makes me hold my breath. It stirs something deep within me, and right before he speaks, I recognize it from my childhood. The emotion in his eyes isn't just hatred. It's also shame.

He quietly states, "The prison owns you. The prisoners own the guards, and the guards own the prisoners. You don't know who's on whose side or what area is safe versus not. At any time, anything can change. I learned that from your father the first few hours I was there."

My insides quiver, watching Liam's expression and hearing his words. I know too well my father's wrath, which only came out when he was drunk and beating on my innocent mother. I reach up and cup Liam's cheek.

He sniffs hard. His jaw twitches under my fingers. The room seems to get colder, and he reveals, "Before they got rid of the outside area, you'd get an hour a day. I hadn't seen Finn yet. When they brought me to my cell, he was working in the laundry room. The guard told me to stand at the end of the line. I felt something was off, but there wasn't anything I could do. When I got to the door, the man in front of me stepped outside. The guard shut it and told me not to move or he would throw me in solitary confinement. I was facing the door, and I could hear him leave the hallway. Your father stepped behind me with a plastic bag and put it over my head. Two of his thugs held my arms."

I gasp and put my hand over my mouth. Tears fill my eyes.

Liam glances up at the ceiling. "Finn somehow came into the room. Four of our guys were with him, and it became an all-out brawl. Everyone except your father got thrown into solitary confinement for a week. After that, the warden moved the O'Malleys to the fourth floor."

I'm unsure what to say. The shame never leaves Liam. It wasn't his fault, but it's the same look my mother has had at times when she's spoken of my father's abusive actions toward her. I do the only thing I know. I rise and kiss him, grateful he's alive, while wishing more than ever my father was dead.

It's something I've felt since I was a child, before we escaped him. I was barely in school when we fled. The few times he was mentioned between my sisters or mother, it would reignite. Since Gemma revealed all she's gone through, it's stayed on the surface of my thoughts. I've had a hard time trying to get my father out of my mind, but I don't want to live in fear of him or let the thought of him control my life. Liam has his guys watching over me everywhere I go. The school is on strict lockdown. Liam's men keep an eye on who is coming and going. The moment I step outside, I go straight to Liam's car. Whenever he can be, he's in it, but sometimes it's only his driver and another one of his men. If Liam and I are shopping or eating at a restaurant, he's got numerous O'Malleys inconspicuously watching us, ready to take any Bailey down. And true to his word, Liam has the same measures on my sisters and mother.

I pull back from our kiss and blurt out, "I hope he dies a horrible death soon."

Liam hesitates then strokes my cheek. "Hales, I know this is your father. Are you sure you feel this way?"

I snort. "Yes. But does it matter?"

Liam studies me. "I worry you may hate me one day. It's still your father. When he gets out of prison, nothing will stop my men or me from hunting him down until he takes his last breath. The war has already started. It's gone on for years before we were even born. I can't get to your father in prison. Once he's out, he won't have the protection he does now. Yes, the Baileys will watch over him, but we will take him and anyone protecting him out."

A chill runs through my bones. Not at the thought of my father getting what he deserves but at the risk it puts Liam and his family in.

His face drops. He winces. "So you may hate me?"

"What? No!"

"You shuddered, and your face changed, little lamb."

I shake my head. "I'm worried about you and your family. Not them. They are monsters and don't get any of my sympathies. Blow them all up so they can't harm you or my family. Do whatever you have to. No Bailey will come between us, including my father. Just promise me, whatever you do, you won't end up back in prison."

"I'm never going back, Hales. You have my word," he vows.

I release a breath. "Okay. Finish your dinner."

"Bossy," he teases then pecks me on the lips.

We finish eating in silence. After dinner, I point to his bandage. "Time to show me."

He holds his arm out. "Go ahead and remove it."

I gingerly pull apart the bandage, and when it's fully unwrapped, my heart stammers. I gape at the Celtic hearts representing eternity and the Celtic H in the middle. A lump forms in my throat. I swallow it then glance up at Liam.

Nerves fill his expression. "What do you think?"

"Is the H for me?"

"Who else would it be for?"

My sight becomes blurry from tears. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"You do?"

I grab the pink velvet box. "Yes. In fact, I think you earned your first treat." I open the lid.

His lips twitch. He pulls out one of the fifty red heart-shaped pieces of posterboard I cut out and reads it. His grin grows, and he leans into my ear. His deep voice sends new chills through my spine. "I love how dirty you are, little lamb." He licks my earlobe.

"What does it say?" I ask, my heart racing faster.

He grunts. "Did you get everything needed for anything in this treat box?"

"Yes. It should be marked on the card where in the closet it's located."

His lips curve. The spark in his eyes heats into a beautiful, glowing green. He leads me into the bedroom. "Good. And don't ask me any more questions." He takes out his phone, turns on a hip-hop song, and goes into the closet. He comes back with a tie and sits on the accent chair then commands, "Strip."

I take my time, pulling his T-shirt halfway up my body, then releasing it so it's still on. I slowly eliminate my panties then toss them to him. I step in front of him, pumping my naked ass in the air.

"Grab your ankles," he demands.

I slide my hands down my legs, and he drags his fingers up them, then kisses my ass cheeks. Tingles ignite under my skin, zinging all through my nerves.

He pats me on the ass. "Finish."

I slowly rise, release my bra, then finally take the T-shirt off.

He curls his fingers in the air. I obey him, stopping in front of him, waiting for his command until he widens his legs and says, "Kneel."

I drop to the floor and lick my lips, still not sure what he chose from the treat box, but dozens of thoughts are running through my head about what it might be.

"Hands linked on your neck, little lamb." I obey, and he takes the tie and puts it over my eyes. He knots it once then moves my hair over my hands and weaves the silk over my wrists so I can't move them away. His hot breath hits my ear, and my pussy spasms when he says, "This isn't from the treat box. Before we do that, you're going to take all of me, Hales. Every hard inch of me, and I'm going to control this pretty little mouth of yours."

I breathe deeply, not able to see anything, my hands restricted on my neck, my elbows spread. The sound of his buckle and zipper hit my ear. A drop of my arousal drips down my leg. He fists my hair and tugs it then brings his face in front of mine.

His kiss is full of everything. The love and devotion he has for me. Our chemistry so undeniable, even the forces that should rip us apart can't. And the flutters I never seem to get rid of when he touches me, or even comes close, intensify.

"Get your pretty little mouth on my cock, little lamb," he growls.

I bend toward him and begin licking his shaft. He lets me explore for only a moment before he controls my every move, making me do everything he promised. I take him deeper and deeper until nothing is left and he's groaning and gripping my head.

He's about to come. The taste of his pre-cum is a drug I want more of. His cap hitting the back of my throat is a feeling I'm obsessed with but can't explain. He swells bigger and bigger, and right when I think he's going to give me all of him, he moves me off him.

I'm panting as his lips consume me all over. Then he murmurs, "Stay here and don't move."

Time seems to crawl. Blackness is all I see with the tie around my eyes, and the sweat on my skin turns clammy. I feel exposed with my hands tied the way they are, but he restrained me so tightly, there's no room to do anything but kneel and wait. The music continues to pound in my ears. When he finally stands behind me, a bolt of his energy courses through my veins.

He kneels and nibbles on my ear while dragging his finger down the curve of my waist. It's not as warm as the rest of him, and more thoughts shoot through my mind wondering what treat he pulled out of the box.

He tugs at the silk and releases my hands. As my eyes adjust to the room, which is now dark and lit only with candles, he pulls me up and spins me into him. "You've been discrete with your treat box items."

"You didn't go through the rest of the closet and see everything, did you?" I ask, not wanting him to know the other things I bought until it's time for whatever treat he pulls.

He pecks me on the lips. "Nope. I normally don't like surprises, but this is one exception."

I release a relieved breath. "Okay. Good."

He steps back with me in his arms until we're on something besides the wood floor.

I glance down. It's a canvas, and I let out a small laugh. "You picked the adult body paint card."

He takes his finger, covered in green paint, and circles my nipple. "I think my Irish girl needs a bit of green, don't you?"

I dip my finger into the gold paint. I drag it over his torso and stop at his belly button. "I think the king of the O'Malleys needs a bit of gold."

He holds up his arm that just got the new tattoo. He rewrapped it and put plastic over it. His finger is blue. He spreads it on my mound and says, "Of course, we should add some blue for your eyes."

"Is your tattoo going to be okay?" I ask.

"Yep. I'll take care of it after we finish. Now focus, Hales. This is going on that wall." He points to the wall across from the bed.

I dip my hands in the red and step forward. He tilts his head down, and I reach around him to palm his ass. His tongue slips in and out of my mouth so perfectly, I momentarily forget about anything but our kiss. Then he scoops me off my feet, kneels, and places me on the floor. He cages his body over mine then tucks my hair behind my ear, studying me intently.

I reach for his face. A mix of gold and red gets all over it. I laugh, and the animal I always see whenever Liam and I are together awakens.

He pins my wrists above my head. He teases my nipples with his tongue and lips until I'm moaning. My back arches into him. I spread my legs to wrap around him, but he releases me and grabs the paint jar. In thin lines, he drips green paint the length of my body. He sits on his knees and scans me, "You filthy woman."

"You made me dirty. Lick it off," I taunt.

Arrogance fills his expression. He slides a green finger through my pussy. It's slightly cold but warms quickly before his mouth and fingers attack me, as if he's on a mission to lick and wipe me clean.

"Holy...oh God!" I cry out.

"I'm finishing what we started, little lamb," he growls. He lessens the intensity, keeping me on edge until my sweat mixes with the paint and I'm clawing red and gold marks into his shoulders.

"Please," I whimper so many times, my voice turns hoarse.

It goes on and on until tears fall down my cheeks.

"I can't—" My body explodes with endorphins, and I come harder than ever before, ejaculating on his face.

He doesn't let me come down, lunging on top of me and shoving my thighs toward my chest. His hard erection slides into my spasming walls. He pounds into me a few times then pulls out.

"What's—"

He spins me so fast on my stomach, I don't finish my sentence. His arm slips under my waist, and he pounds back into me, leaning his body over mine. "Jesus, I love you, Hales."

"I love you, too. So much," I whimper.

He bites on the curve of my neck and growls, "I want your ass, little lamb."

"Take it," I tell him.

"Not now. The right way."

I don't know what it means. I've never done it before. Right now, my body is a cooked noodle, unable to do anything but feel Liam and his warm flesh.

His finger circles my clit, and I instantly orgasm again, crying out his name. A rumble from his chest vibrates on my back, and he tugs me closer to him. The force of his thrusts accelerates, and he hits me deeper, muttering, "Fucking filthy girl," over and over until I'm coming so hard on his cock, I can't hold myself up anymore.

"Liam!"

"That's it, little lamb. Fuuuuck!" His erection swells, and he violently pumps into me. I might die from the extra rush of endorphins hitting me everywhere.

He pants in my ear, and I roll onto my back. Our eyes sear into the others', breath merging, sweat and paint everywhere.

"You look like a rainbow threw up on a leprechaun," I state.

He laughs, and I do as well. He says, "Let's shower. I need to make sure none of this got on my tattoo."

"Especially since I love it so much," I claim, still shocked he got it and what it represents.

He beams then pecks me on the lips before pulling me up. We stare at the canvas before going into the bathroom.

He leans into my ear. "One hundred and five."

I raise my eyebrows.

He proudly states, "When we get out of the shower, you're marking my chart."