He Kissed Me Before Finals

CHAPTER SIX-THE WARNING

The envelope sat on my desk all night.

I didn't open it again. I didn't need to.

Those three words were already burned into my brain:

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

By morning, I'd convinced myself it was some prank.

Maybe it was Savannah's way of proving she still had power.

But when I stepped outside for class, my gut said otherwise.

A black car was parked across the street, windows tinted so dark I couldn't see inside.

It had been there since last night.

I tried to ignore it. Walked faster.

But it pulled away slowly, following the curve of the road—and for the first time, I felt something I hadn't felt since meeting Liam: fear.

On campus, Liam found me before I found him.

He was waiting near the quad fountain, hair still damp from practice, expression unreadable.

"You didn't answer my texts," he said.

"I was busy."

"With what? Running from me?"

I folded my arms. "Someone left me a message."

He frowned. "What kind of message?"

I hesitated—then showed him the envelope.

The moment he saw the words, his face changed. The smirk vanished. The easy confidence disappeared.

"Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"It was on my doorstep last night."

"Did anyone see you? Anyone near your place?"

"I don't know. Why? Liam—what's going on?"

He cursed under his breath, crumpling the paper in his fist.

"You shouldn't have gotten involved with me."

"Fake involved," I corrected weakly.

He didn't smile this time. "There's nothing fake about this anymore."

⸻

We went to a quiet corner near the old gym, far from curious eyes.

He ran a hand down his face, looking frustrated and restless.

"My father... he's not just a businessman," he said. "He owns part of a security firm. The kind that doesn't exist on paper. The kind that handles things off the record."

"You mean illegal things."

He nodded slightly. "I tried to stay out of it. I came here on scholarship; I keep my distance, but there are people who think I'm just like him."

"And the note?"

"It's a warning. Someone's reminding me what happens when I forget who I am."

I felt my stomach twist. "They're threatening me to control you."

He met my eyes—sharp, protective, burning. "You can't go home tonight."

"What?"

"You'll stay somewhere safe. With me."

"Liam—"

He stepped closer. "I mean it, Lucy. Whoever sent that letter knows where you live. I won't risk it."

I wanted to argue, but the way his jaw tightened told me this wasn't about ego. This was fear—real fear.

So I nodded. "Just for tonight."

"Good," he said softly. "Just for tonight."

⸻

That night, I followed him to a house on the edge of the city—not a dorm, not an apartment.

A private townhouse. Quiet. Expensive.

He opened the door, and I caught a glimpse of photos—none of them recent, none of them smiling.

"The guest room's upstairs," he said. "The bathroom's on the left. Don't answer the door, don't touch the landline, and if you hear anything outside—don't look."

I tried to steady my voice. "Is this how you live?"

He turned toward me. "It's how I survive."

Hours later, I couldn't sleep.

I kept replaying everything—the flyers, Savannah, the black car, the note.

Then I heard it—a soft thud outside the window.

I froze, heart pounding.

Another sound. Closer.

I crept toward the curtain, my hand trembling—

And when I pulled it back, a shadow moved across the yard.

Tall. Fast. Watching.

Before I could react, a hand covered mine.

Liam.

"Don't move," he whispered, eyes scanning the darkness.

For one terrifying minute, we just stood there—his hand still gripping mine, his heartbeat steady against my palm.

Then the shadow disappeared.

He exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping. "They're not supposed to find this place."

"Liam," I whispered, "what are we into?"

He looked at me—and for once, there was no charm, no smile, no mask.

Just truth.

"Something that can't end with just finals," he said quietly. "And I don't know how to get you out of it."