Warrior

Chapter Twenty Eight

Satey

The next time I roused, the sunlight was streaming in through the blinds covering the window. I blinked and squinted against the blinding rays. I sat up and, once my eyes adjusted, glimpsed that I was alone in the bed; my only company were the sheets twisted about on the bed in a way that made it look like a sleepless night had taken place.

My gaze shifted from the light material barely covering my naked legs to the door a few paces from the bed. It was slightly ajar and I could hear the sound of hushed, but equally urgent, voices.

When I crept towards it, desperate to hear at least a sliver of something I was desperate to find out but, apparently, never to hear.

"...and if I'm being totally honest, I think you're just paranoid," Paul's lowered voice was saying.

"I'm not," Liam insisted at a whisper, "it was him. I know it was. I can't easily forget my father's face," his voice hissed, "not after what he's done."

My confusion grew at the same rate my eyebrows knit together.

"Liam," Paul sighed and, even without actually seeing him, I could tell he was trying to be patient with Liam about... whatever it was that had him riled up. "I don't-,"

"Paul," Liam interrupted with a low hiss, "I know what I saw. Do you think I would've frozen up if it wasn't him?"

Paul was quiet at Liam's mention of his own panic attack. The involvement of the traumatic event burrowed even more confusion into my mind.

"Find him," Liam spat under his breath, "I need you to find him."

"I can't just prance my guys about based on your mere hunch, Liam," Paul burst out drily.

"It's not a hunch!" his voice rose in retaliation at his trainer, "it's not a hunch. Just find him before he finds me."

"He already did," I heard Paul mutter under his breath.

"Before he gets to anyone I care about then," Liam spit and I jumped at the venom in his tone, "is that a good enough motivation?"

Paul didn't answer and I glimpsed his shadow as he brushed past the door to exit his house, mumbling something about Liam wing grumpy when he was overprotective.

Liam sighed after the door slammed shut and I could almost visualize him through the door, leaning on the back of the couch with one hand and rubbing his face with the other. I paused for a few seconds, making it believable that I had awoken to Paul's rough exit. I wanted to know what they were talking about, but I forced myself to accept the fact that it was something that was buried deep in Liam's pile of things he kept guarded. My confusion would have to fester until I built up the courage to ask him.

Not like that was much different from any other day since I came into Liam's life.

When I pulled open the door, his back was to me and, sure enough, he was leaning on it deep in thought. His muscles jumped under my touch as I wrapped my arms around his torso and rested my chin on his back.

"Good morning," I said quietly.

Liam pulled out of my grasp and turned, leaning his bum on the back of the couch to turn and look me up and down. He smirked and I could see his approval of my apparel.

"When did you put my shirt on?" he asked before taking his lip between his teeth and continuing to eye me.

"Last night," I answered vaguely, earning a raised eyebrow.

"I like my clothes on you," he complimented, grasping my hips in his hands pulling me to him until I was practically falling on top of him. "Especially without bottoms on."