Liam: Branded Brothers by Raen Smith Page B

felt his gaze on
her profile, but she continued to follow the cars with her eyes. “I thought you
were some beautiful woman with unimaginable patience and kindness who cared for
an ailing man.”
    “I am,” she answered, pulling her eyes away from the track. She
studied him for a second before adding, “And so much more.”
    Liam let out a low whistle. “Well, I’m looking forward to
learning more about you.”
    “I bet you are,” she said, turning back to the track and
pointing. The cars were beginning to slow after a couple of practice laps. They
pulled off to the side of the track, following a dirt path to a holding area. “If
he’s driving car number four, he’s the black one with the skull on the hood.”
    “Good looking out,” he said, following her finger. “I think
you might be more of a distraction to me than anything else.”
    Charla smiled then stood up. “Let’s go down there. I’m not
going to spend my whole night waiting around to watch these guys spin around
the track like goddamn hamsters in wheels.”
    “You got it, Boss,” he said as they wound down the hill and
along the fence at the bottom of the track.
    They stood on the edge of the holding area as the drivers
emerged from their cars. A shiny black helmet with a white skull popped out
from car number four. The rest of the man climbed out and walked toward another
driver. They talked for a few minutes before driver number four finally pulled
off his helmet to reveal a completely shaved head. He tucked the helmet under
his arm and then began walking the other way.
    “Let’s go.” Charla grabbed Liam’s hand and began following
the man. They were a few feet behind him when he stopped and turned around. His
eyes locked on Liam’s and then Charla’s.
    “You got a fuckin’ problem?” he asked, scrunching down his
thick eyebrows.
    Charla studied the lines of his muscular jaw set in an
angular face. Tattoos ran up the sides of his neck, but his face was clear of
any ink. He was good-looking, like Liam, but he had more of an edge to him.
There was an unpredictability in the way he stood, like he might explode at any
given moment. His eyes flashed the same deep blue color as Liam’s. There was no
mistaking they could be brothers.
    “Are you Ronan Williams?” Liam asked, taking a step toward
him. Liam’s voice was different. Stronger, more assured with his shoulders
pressed back. It was a warning not to mess with him.
    So this is how he does it, she admired, standing back
to let the men assess each other. They stood in silence for a few moments,
looking each other up and down. She was sure Liam could hear her eye roll. It
was a pissing match. He must be the middle one , Charla thought. Men.
    “Yeah, who the fuck is asking?” Ronan finally said, still
not breaking the stare-down.
    “Liam Murphy.” He held out his hand to Ronan. He hesitated
for a second before meeting Liam’s in what Charla guessed was another match to
see who could squeeze the hardest. They finally dropped their hands. “We
stopped by your shop, but you were closed. We were told by some of your friends
that you would be here.”
    “Yeah, the shop will be open tomorrow. You can stop by
then.” Ronan turned and walked away. A skull flashed on the back of his black
jacket. Flames spewed out of its mouth.
    “I don’t want a tattoo,” Liam called to him. “I’m here
because of the tattoo on your chest. The one you’ve had since you were a kid.”
    Ronan stopped, but didn’t turn around. Liam stood resolute,
waiting for him to respond. Charla watched, not wondering if he was going to
get what he wanted. Liam was going to take it.
    “I’ve got the same one,” Liam continued as he reached into
his back pocket to retrieve the envelope Charla had given him. “Right on my
heart. Had it since I can remember. It’s the Celtic symbol for family.”
    Ronan shifted his helmet to his other hand and then finally
turned around to face them. He walked back toward Liam