CHAPTER FORTY–THREE
Killian’s POV
“Fuck!”
I slammed my fist into the tiled wall, hard enough that the guy walking in, some poor dude just trying to take a piss, jumped
back a step.
“Hey, man, you good?”
I didn’t even look at him. I just ran a hand through my hair, breathing hard, then punched the wall again.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What the hell did I just do?
She left. She fucking left.
I didn’t want it to go down like that. I didn’t plan any of it. I just saw her sitting there with that bastard Simon, smiling like
she belonged to someone else, and I snapped. I couldn’t think straight. I just reacted.
And now she was gone. She walked out without saying a damn word to me. Not even a glance back.
I walked out of the restroom, jaw clenched, blood still buzzing in my ears. When I got to the table, she wasn’t there. Just him.
Simon.
Sitting there like he had the right.
“Where the hell is she?” I barked.
He looked up, confused, then his expression shifted. Recognition hit his face like a wave.
“You-” he said. “You’re Ryan’s dad. You’re that asshole who’s been making Liana’s life hell.”
I didn’t answer.
I just grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to his feet.
“Whoa–hey! What are you doing?!”
I punched him
Hard
Right in the jaw
He stumbled back into the table, knocking over a glass of water, but I didn’t stop. I grabbed his shirt again and punched him
a second time
People were standing now. Some yelling Someone shouted for security. I didn’t care.
“Stay the hell away from her?” I growled, voice low and furious. “Do you hear me? Stay the fuck away from Liana *
He was bleeding now Lip busted Eyes wide
“You’re insane,” Simon spat. “You think she wants to be with you? after everything you’ve done to her?”
I stepped back, chest heaving I looked around Everyone was watching Someone had pulled out a phone.
Great
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“Stay away from my woman!” I snapped angrily more to myself than anyone.
Then I turned and walked out.
I didn’t run after her to her dad’s house.
No. I didn’t.
Instead, I went straight to the hotel I checked into earlier that afternoon. My head was spinning, my fists were still sore from hitting that bastard, and my heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest. I didn’t care about anything at that point. I didn’t care that people had seen what happened. I didn’t care if someone recorded it. I didn’t even care that she walked out
and didn’t look back.
She left.
Again.
And I had no one to blame but myself.
When I got to the bar inside the hotel, I didn’t wait for the bartender to ask what I wanted.
“Strongest thing you’ve got,” I said, voice low, jaw clenched. “Just keep pouring.”
He didn’t say anything. He just gave me a look, then grabbed a bottle and filled a glass to the brim.
I knocked it back.
It burned like hell, but I welcomed it. I wanted the burn. I wanted it to drown out the fire inside me that I couldn’t put out.
I slammed the glass down. “again.”
And he refilled it.
I didn’t stop.
I kept drinking.
One glass. Then another. Then another.
Everything inside me felt heavy. My chest. My head. My throat. My thoughts.
I fucked up.
I told myself I wouldn’t touch her like that again. Not like that. Not when I was angry. Not just to prove a point. But I did. I let my jealousy win. I let it eat me alive and I used her body to make a statement like a goddamn animal
And she let me.
That’s what messed me up the most. She didn’t stop me. She didn’t scream or fight me. She let me touch her. She kissed me back. She wrapped herself around me like she still wanted me
But then she left.
I rubbed my hand over my face, feeling the burn in my eyes that I refused to call tears.
She was my drug Fuck, she was my entire addiction. I craved her like nothing else. My body, my mind, my soul… all of it
needed her and after tasting her again, after feeling her like that, I couldn’t breathe without wanting more.
She didn’t even say goodbye.
She just left.
I dropped my head on the bar counter and laughed to myself. It wasn’t even funny. It sounded bitter. It sounded broken.
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What the hell am I becoming?
I lost control. again.
I didn’t even know how many drinks I had. I just kept going until everything started spinning.
I was drunk.
So fucking drunk.
“Rough night?”
I blinked. a soft female voice. I looked up and saw a woman standing there, leaning against the bar, her smile a little too
perfect.
She was pretty. Long legs. Tight dress. Perfect lipstick. She looked like someone who didn’t mind broken men.
“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head a little.
I stared at her for a long second. Then I blinked again, and suddenly all I saw was Liana.
“Liana…” I whispered.
Her smile softened. “You want some help getting to your room?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah… Liana… I’m so sorry.”
She wrapped her arm around mine and started helping me up.
Everything was blurry. My steps were slow. My body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I mumbled. “I didn’t mean it. I just… I saw you with him and I lost it. I lost it. You’re mine, you hear me? I don’t care what your dad says. You’re mine.”
“Shh, I know,” she whispered back, her voice nothing like Liana’s, but I didn’t notice. Or maybe I just didn’t care.
She helped me into the elevator. Then through the hallway.
Then into the room.
She closed the door behind us and locked it.
I staggered toward the bed.
She pushed me down gently.
“Liana…” I whispered again.
“I’m right here,” she said, even though I wasn’t really listening to her voice. I was seeing her face. Liana’s face. Her eyes. Her
mouth. Her skin
“I love you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Even when you hate me. I still love you.”
She didn’t say anything.
Her hands moved to my shirt. Then to my pants.
I didn’t stop her.
I just laid back, drunk out of my mind.
