“Stay here,” the detective ordered, her hand already reaching for the doorbell.
My fingers curled tighter around my phone. My chest was a mess of nerves, pounding so hard it felt like my ribs might c***k. I wanted to argue, to say I wasn’t some fragile thing to be left in the car, but the words stuck in my throat.
The bell rang.
The seconds dragged until the door creaked open. And then my stomach dropped.
“Liam?” The name almost slipped out, but I clamped my teeth on it before the sound betrayed me.
He stood there, framed by the doorway, casual as if nothing was wrong. No guilt, no shock, just that familiar smirk that used to make me weak and now made me sick.
The detective cleared her throat. “Evening. Are you Liam Wolfe?”
“Yes. “What’s this about?” Liam asked smoothly.
Before the
