Part Six - Part Two

605 24 14
                                        

Part Six - Part Two

•••

It might seem that I either did or didn't bring a Bible, considering we're headed to a graveyard. Who knows, Liam might summon some demons to attack me.

I can't bail on them, though. As much as I want to, I can't show any weakness in front of Adam.

Liam told me to be ready by eight, and now it's already eight-thirty. The doorbell rings, echoing through the house. I sigh and reluctantly head downstairs.

When I swing the front door open, Liam's grin and mischief vanish, replaced by an annoyed and surprised expression.

"What the hell?" he exclaims, his eyes scanning me from head to toe, making me uncomfortable. "Dalley! I said be ready at eight. It's eight-thirty!"

He's dressed in black ripped jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and white sneakers. I resist the urge to point out the glaring mismatch between his outfit and our destination.

I mentally wish those sneakers good luck.

Frowning, I fold my arms across my chest. "I'm ready, so let's go."

Liam looks at me like I've grown a second head. He gestures at my outfit with exasperation. "You call this ready?"

I look down at my sweatpants and loose t-shirt. "Hey, this is all I have." I'm starting to feel offended by his reaction. I wave it off. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Oh my God," he says, throwing his hands up dramatically. He steps inside my house, claiming the space as his own—classic Liam. Grabbing my wrist, he drags me upstairs despite my attempts to break free.

When we reach my baby-blue room, I twist my wrist out of his grasp. "I swear, if you manhandle me one more time, I'll get a restraining order. The court might happily grant it."

He ignores me completely, his eyes roaming around the room. His gaze finally settles back on me. "This is the most disgusting color ever. You could've gone for something more—"

Is he serious?

I scoff, rolling my eyes so hard it feels like they might get stuck. "Speak for yourself, Satan. I've learned that taking anything you say seriously is a waste of time, so don't even try."

Liam's shit-eating grin reappears, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Where's your closet?"

I point to the direction behind him. He strides over without hesitation. I throw myself back onto my unmade bed, staring at the white ceiling.

I hear him mumbling under his breath as he digs through my closet.

"Wow, so many skeletons in here," he teases. "You're ready to be a grandpa. Looks like the seventies in here."

His attempt at humor is as flat as expected. I'm sure he knows it's terrible.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I glare at him. "Your opinion isn't needed."

He barks out a laugh. "We need to go on a shopping spree. Here," he says, handing me a pair of stylish torn jeans and a black button-down shirt. "This should do. Now hurry up; Adam's going to be here any minute."

The Enemy Lives Next Door (bxb)Where stories live. Discover now