Takedown Teague (Caged #1)(82)

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter?”

Tria’s chest rose and fell with her breaths as she tilted her head to look at me.

“I need to know how I can fit into this,” she said. “I can’t figure that out if you don’t tell me anything. If I can’t figure it out, well…”

She let her voice trail off as she shrugged and looked away from me.

“Well, what?” I tried to keep my voice down so the couple in the other room wouldn’t hear us. “Well, then you’ll just say f*ck it and move on? Is that what you mean? Are you threatening me?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I’m not. I don’t mean to be, anyway. It’s just…I have to have more, Liam.”

“More?”

“I want to know more about you. More about your past.”

“You don’t want to know,” I told her, hoping it was true, or that I could at least convince her it was. I shifted uneasily on the floor.

“You have a habit of telling me what I want,” Tria replied. “Maybe you could let me decide that once in a while.”

I ignored her sarcasm.

“Can’t we just make out instead?”

She immediately moved away from me and looked at me pointedly. There was just no winning with her and her stubbornness. My best bet was to just get her to sleep, so I went with that angle. After all, it had worked pretty well the night before.

“You need to sleep,” I said.

“So tell me a bedtime story.”

“That shit isn’t going to help you sleep.”

She ran her hand down the side of my face and rested it lightly on my shoulder. Her eyes were drooping, and I was hoping she would just crawl onto the couch and drop off into slumber.

“Tell me the real reason Yolanda was mad about what you were eating.”

No such luck.

I turned my head to stare at the curtains covering the window, hoping she would get the hint and let it go but also knowing she wasn’t going to.

“Liam.” Tria sighed and reached up with her finger to run it over my jaw as she turned my head to face her more. Like a total idiot, I looked into her eyes again. Even in the subdued light, they were bright and shining. “I want to know. Please tell me.”

All my resolve crumbled.

“What do you want to know?” I asked with an exaggerated groan.

“Tell me about Yolanda,” Tria said. “Tell me how you met.”

The very idea made my skin crawl. There was definitely a significant part of me that couldn’t believe I was considering doing the one and only thing I always swore to myself I wouldn’t do—think about any of my history. How was I supposed to talk about it without thinking about it? Images I didn’t want to see were already flashing through my head.

Glancing at her, I met her eyes again. I didn’t know what her look meant—if she needed to know more about the man she was with before making any real decisions, if she wanted to get under my skin, or if she was just curious. Whatever it was, I wanted to give it to her, and the thought scared me.

“Fine,” I said, “but I’m smoking while we talk.”

“Deal!” she said with a genuine smile that loosened the tightness still hovering in the center of my chest.

We stepped quietly through the front door, and Tria made herself comfortable on the top of the wooden steps while I lit up. She just sat there without saying a word until I got the idea and started talking.

“Yolanda...found me,” I told her. I took a big breath and leaned my head against a four-by-four that held up part of the porch roof. I looked down, no longer meeting her eyes. “I was…not doing well. I needed money…and she found me. She recognized me and took me back to her place. She got me to straighten up, got me back in shape, and has kind of been some combination of trainer and mother ever since then.”

“She recognized you?” Tria asked.

“Yeah,” I said with a nod, secretly glad she chose that portion to focus on. “Yolanda was a trainer then, too, but she had a side job. She used to go around to high school competitions, scouting talent for some agent on the side. She was at a wrestling competition I won the year before.”

I laughed humorlessly.

“She only barely recognized me. I’d lost about forty pounds since leaving.”

“Leaving where?”

I glanced at her for a moment.

“My parents threw me out,” I said. She knew this, but I was stalling. “I, um…I had some money in the beginning, but it doesn’t last as long as you think it will, ya know?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I was kicked out of where I had been living,” I told her. “Well…sort of.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t just…get kicked out of the place,” I finally said. I glanced at Tria and saw her sitting there, patient as ever.

“Why won’t you just tell me?” she asked quietly.

“Because what I have now isn’t worth shit. If you knew how bad I was…f*ck, you’d probably never want to even look at me.” I stared at the ground, refusing to look up at her as I chewed at the pad of my thumb.

“Do you really think I would turn away from you because you went through a rough patch?” Tria asked. “You think I don’t know something bad happened to you? Do you think I can’t see that? Do you think I’m that blind?”