Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (21 page)

I rub my temple. A headache is brewing behind my left eye. "We're fine."

"Well, yeah, that's obvious from the photos. Dayum, girl. Fine as hell!" When I groan, Josh says, "Too soon?"

"Way too soon."

"Sorry. But seriously, do you need anything? Alcohol? Valium? A heat-seeking pap missile?"

"God, yes to that last one." I glance at Liam who's staring stony-faced out the window. "I just hope the police find the guy before Liam does, or he could be up on some major grievous bodily harm charges."

"I tried to call your parents to warn them about what's going on."

"Did you get onto them?"

"Yeah, but I was too late. By the time I spoke with them, they'd been drinking heavily for over an hour."

"Shit." I lean my head back against the seat. "This just keeps getting better and better. I guess Dad will have no choice now but accept that his little girl is no longer a virgin and that Liam and I are more than just good friends."

I feel sick.

Josh tries to make me feel better by telling me that people are saying nice things about my ass, but it doesn't help. When we arrive at the marina I sign off and tell him I'll call him in a few days. Liam has gone quiet, and that's never a good sign.

After paying the cabbie, we head down to where the Elissa May is docked. Liam's in the middle of casting off when he stops dead and stares at the boat.

"What is it?"

He holds up his finger, and I follow his gaze to the cabin windows.

"The lights are on," he whispers. "I turned them all off before we left. That slimy asshole's on my fucking boat." He drops the rope and strides up the gang plank, fists clenched at his side. I follow, and hope like hell I can stop him from killing the guy.

As soon as we climb down the stairs, we hear banging around, as if whoever's there has just realized they've been busted. Liam storms into the master suite and grabs a man dressed in black by his throat before slamming him against the wall so hard, the floor vibrates. Liam's shoulder blocks the man's face from my view, so all I see is a mess of brown hair.

"Wait," the man yells, fear bright in his voice. "Please. Don't hurt me."

Liam slams him into the wall again. "Hurt you?! You're lucky I don't break your goddamn legs for what you've done." Liam grabs something from the man, and I jump as an expensive looking camera smashes to pieces as it hits the tiled floor. "Try to take your photos now, you piece of shit!"

"Liam—" I grab his arm to try and calm him down, but when I get close enough to see the pap clearly, I realize I recognize his face.

"Oh, shit. Scott?"

Liam's snaps his head around. "You know this guy?"

I'm so shocked, I can barely nod. "I ran into him at JFK. Literally. Knocked him over."

Liam turns to glare at Scott's terrified face. "You'd better explain yourself right the fuck now, or I'm going to take you out into the middle of the ocean and leave you for the sharks."

"Alright, alright," Scott says, holding up his hands defensively. "Just calm down, man, okay?"

God, does he have a death wish? Doesn't he know never to tell an enraged Liam to calm down?

Liam slams him into the wall again. "Talk!"

"Okay!" Scott's so scared by now, he's trembling. "My sister works at La Perla on Fifth Avenue. Elissa was in there last week, and she bragged about how she was going on vacation with you. My sister knew I was having a dry spell and needed to land some major pictures, so she passed the information along to me."

My stomach drops. With that information, I can see the similarities between him and Chastity.

I swallow my nausea. "How did you find me?"

"It wasn't hard. Everyone knows where Quinn's penthouse is. I staked it out until I saw you getting into a limo, followed you, watched you check in at the airport, and bought a ticket on the same flight." He looks between us. "Paps these days have more skills than most private investigators. Tracking people down is what we do."

"So," I say, trying to keep a lid on my anger, "you waited for me to come out of the first class club and then, what? Made sure I ran into you?"

He shrugged. "Basically. I hoped you had more information about your destination so I could do some planning, but Quinn was clever about keeping you in the dark."

Liam grabs Scott's shirt and talks through clenched teeth. "You stalked my fiancée? Are you fucking serious right now?"

"How did you find the island?" I ask. "There's no way you tailed our helicopter."

Scott glances at Liam briefly before coming back to me. "I followed your car to the private airfield, and after you took off I paid the clerk to get me a copy of the flight plan. Then I hired a boat to take me to the island."

Liam pushes Scott away in disgust. "I bet you're patting yourself on the back about this whole thing, aren't you? Smug as hell you're making big bucks from invading our privacy." Liam pulls out his phone. "Well, have fun spending that money in jail."

Scott's face crumbles. "Now, hang on. Let's not be hasty. Surely we can work something out?" When Liam ignores him and jabs some numbers, Scott grabs his arms. "Come on, man. Please! Tell me what to do to make this go away."

Liam shoves him in the chest so hard, Scott almost falls over.

"All right, you son-of-a-bitch," Liam says, his voice huge in the confined space. "Here's my deal. If you can you recall every one of those photos so no one will see them again, you're free to leave. Can you do that?" Scott's eyes dart back and forth as he tries to come up with an answer. When he can't, Liam scowls at him. "Didn't think so."

As Liam goes back to his phone, Scott's expression turns hard. "Okay, fine. You wanna play hardball? Let's go. Call the cops, and I'll charge you with assault."

Liam lets out a short laugh. "You think what I've just done to you is assault? Wrong." Fast as lightning, he punches Scott square in the face. Scott's nose explodes with blood. "
That's
assault. Go ahead and file a complaint."

Scott grunts as he clutches his nose and tries to stop the bleeding. "Jesus Christ! You're a maniac!"

"No," Liam says, his voice dark and intense. "I'm a man who caught a criminal burgling his yacht. The same criminal who trespassed on private property, so he could stalk innocent people. The authorities will not only throw your assault charges out of court, they'll give me a medal for smacking you in the mouth. Now, sit down and shut the fuck up, or I'll forget why I only hit you once."

Scott sits heavily on the bed and holds his T-shirt up to block his nose. When Liam turns away to talk on the phone, Scott look at me imploringly. "Elissa, please. Don't let him do this."

I walk over to him. "Don't you dare put this on him. You did this to yourself. You stalked us like animals and sold
naked
photos of us in our most intimate moments. You're scum. If you don't want to pay for your actions, then make better goddamn choices."

When I turn away, he stands and grabs my arm. "Elissa—"

I guess he didn't learn his lesson the first time. In a second, I simultaneously spin and drop to one knee as I punch him as hard I can in the crotch. He freezes, his face red with pain, before making a pained gurgling noise and crumbling to the floor.

Liam turns around and looks at me questioningly. I shrug. "Like you're the only one who gets to punch the bad guy?"

"I have no problem with you punching him. I'm just surprised you were actually listening in my self-defense classes. Good job."

Liam's praise makes me feel less sick about our situation, but I'm still furious that we've been put in this position.

At least Scott has the good sense to stay still and quiet until the police arrive.

 

ELEVEN

We Wish You a Merry Sexmas

 

 

By the time we get
home after filling out the police report, it's nearly two in the morning. Liam's quiet as we walk up from the dock to the house, and when we get into the bedroom, he sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the floor, looking shattered.

When I stand in front of him, he wraps his arms around me and rests his forehead on my stomach.

"You hungry?" I ask.

"No."

"Thirsty."

"I'm fine, Liss."

"I don't think you are."

He stays silent and hugs me. I hug him back. I never fully understood his paranoia about people following him before, but I sure as hell get it now. When the pictures came out of us kissing in New York, I felt stupid, because we’d let our guards down in a public place. But this? You can't get more secluded than an uninhabited island off the coast of a foreign country. This is a place where we should be able to feel safe and open. Instead, I feel violated. Vulnerable. More shaken than I'm letting on.

Scott took a beautiful, private moment between us and turned it into filthy tabloid fodder. There's no way someone could ever get used to that type of abuse, and poor Liam has been dealing with it for years. How is it legal that lowlifes like Scott can get away with this behavior? Worse still, how are they allowed to profit from other people's suffering?

Liam gives me a squeeze then pushes me back so he can stand. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

After he walks into the bathroom and closes the door, I sink onto the edge of the bed and drop my head into my hands.

How could I have been so stupid? If I hadn't been such an insecure idiot, I wouldn't have felt the need to brag about Liam to those girls in La Perla, and Scott wouldn't have found out we were together. I'm the one who practically led him to us.

Guilt squirms in my stomach. As angry as I am with Scott, I'm furious with myself. Liam has enough people intent on manipulating and exploiting him. He doesn't need me helping them.

I flop back onto the bed and close my eyes. Christ, what a mess.

Listening to the ocean should be soothing, but even it sounds angry with me. When Liam hasn't emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, I figure he is, too.

I suck up my courage and knock on the door. There's the sound of running water. "Hey. Everything alright?"

"Yeah. You can come in."

When I open the door, I find him shirtless in front of the sink. Chunks of long hair lie strewn all over the floor, and his head looks like it's been run over by a lawn mower. What's more, his face is practically bald. He tilts his head up and scrapes the razor over the few remaining whiskers on his neck.

"I figured looking like my old self might be a handy disguise now that those pictures are out." He sighs. "I decided to torture myself and checked the damage from my phone. Did you know there are already memes of us? And some asshole has opened a twitter account called The Stallion, where he pretends my penis is tweeting. What the hell is wrong with people?" He finishes shaving before running his hand over his face and neck. When he's satisfied he didn't miss a patch, he washes his face and pats it dry with a towel.

"Liam?"

"Hmmm?"

"You cut your own hair?"

He rubs his hand over the uneven mess on his head. "Had to. I couldn't stand it a second longer. Did I do a good job?"

"Not at all."

He hands me the scissors. "Then by all means, Vidal Sassoon, fix it."

When he sits on the closed toilet seat, I stand between his legs and assess the damage. Can I fix it? I at least have to try. I've never given a haircut before, but I've watched enough of them to fake it pretty well. I even up the sides and back before tackling the top. By the time I'm done, it's not perfect, but I've definitely made it better.

Pity I can't say the same about our situation.

Liam just keeps staring at the floor, hands clasped together. It's weird seeing him clean cut again. It's even weirder that he's so quiet.

"Liam?"

He looks up at me as if he was deep in thought and had forgotten I was there. "Yeah?"

"I'm so sorry."

He shrugs. "I'm sure you did your best. Don't worry. It's only hair, right? It'll grow back."

"No, not about the hair. About this whole mess. I should have just kept my mouth shut. "

"Jesus Christ, Liss." He jumps up and brushes chunks of hair off his shoulders in quick, angry movements. "This isn't your fault."

He throws the towel on the ground and strides into the bedroom. I take a breath and follow. "Yes, it is. If I hadn't lost it with those girls in La Perla, none of this would have happened. I just got so damn angry about how they were looking down on me. They didn't believe there was any way you and I could be—"

He spins to face me, and his expression is hard. "Elissa, stop it. Don't you dare try to take the blame for this. It's on me. All of it. I knew it would happen, but I was too fucking selfish to save you from it. I should be the one apologizing, not you."

With a grunt of frustration, he stalks over to the window and stares out at the ocean. His posture suggests he's bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I decide I should give him a second to calm himself. After running his hands over his freshly cut hair, he takes in a deep breath and slowly lets it out. When he turns back to me, he seems calmer but no less upset.

"I want to tell you this scandal will blow over and nothing like this will ever happen again, but I can't. It
will
happen again. And again, and again, for decades to come. I've accepted it, but as long as we're together, you're going to be a target, and I can't fucking bear that." He drops his head. "This is
exactly
why I didn't contact you for all those years. Because I knew that if I gave into my feelings and brought you into my life, you'd end up paying the price for my fame. But I did it anyway, because I'm a selfish prick who wanted you at any cost."

"Liam, don't be ridiculous. I came of my own free will. You didn't force me. I knew what it would be like dating someone famous."

"That doesn’t make it right. However you look at this, it's my fault. This career was my choice, not yours. You would have still loved me if I'd stayed a construction worker, for God's sake. You don't care about the money or the fame. As nice as it is to be able to shower you with extravagant gifts, I'd give it all up to protect you."

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