Page 39 of Freeing Emily

“Don’t be pissed off at me for your own stupidity. I’m not the one who got involved with someone I shouldn’t have.” The bartender sets his glass of whiskey down and Rhys nods in thanks.

“I’m fine,” I respond through gritted teeth. I toss the rest of my whiskey back and slam the glass onto the bar top.

“Obviously,” Rhys snorts.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Rhys? I let her go and now I have to accept it for what it is. She’s not mine.” I run my fingers through my hair.

Rhys leans forward and I turn to meet his gaze.

“Then quit sitting over here feeling sorry for yourself.” he jabs a finger into my chest. “You were warned to stay away, and you didn’t listen. You pursued her, knowing it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

“I –.”

“No.” he cuts me off. “You knew Conor wouldn’t accept the two of you and you still went for it. You were selfish and Emily got hurt in the process.”

Anger laces his tone, and he jabs me again.

“You’re damn lucky Conor didn’t kill you and Declan still doesn’t know about any of it. But get your shit together, Liam. Emily isn’t a game.”

“I know she’s not.” I seethe.

“Then cut the shit. If you let her see you like this, then she’s going to hold on to something that can’t happen. Let. Her. Go.”

“I did let her go,” I growl.

He glances to his left and then sits up straighter. He clears his throat and then flares his eyes slightly. I straighten my spine and peer over my shoulder.

Declan is sauntering toward us with Jackie on his arm. She’s clutching onto him like he’s going to disappear if she doesn’t.

“Sup, Dec,” Rhys says with a lift of his chin. “Jackie.” He offers her a tight smile.

“Hello, Rhys.” She smiles at him seductively. Her eyes flick to me and travel down my body, searching for a spot to sink her talons in.

“And you are?” she purrs.

I glance at Rhys who subtly rolls his eyes.

“Liam,” I answer.

“I love your accent, it’s very sexy.”

“Uh…” I look to Declan who appears completely unfazed at her obvious flirting. “Thanks.” I grimace.

Rhys chuckles and then stands. He tips his whiskey back and then sets the glass down.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go sit down.” He slaps me on my back and then walks through the crowd.

It’s physically painful to avoid looking in Emily’s direction. She sits at the table adjacent to mine and I’m excruciatingly aware of every movement she makes. I know she’s more than aware of me because every time I shift, she stiffens.

I try my damned hardest to pay attention to the conversation at my own table, but I keep being distracted by every caress Ryan makes to Emily’s skin. Every time he leans over and whispers in her ear. Each time she grasps onto his bicep and chuckles.

It’s tearing me apart from the inside.

Caetlin has glanced in my direction a few times throughout dinner, but her expression is unreadable. I wish I knew what was running through her mind, especially since she is the one who had a hand in my and Emily’s being together.

Conor makes sure to meet my eyes every so often and when he does, he’ll glance at Emily and then smirk.

The bastard is a cruel motherfucker and I hate him for it. I hate that I can’t have the one thing that I trulyneedin this life like I need air.