Liam: Branded Brothers by Raen Smith Page A

don’t want to let that man
cause me any more pain than he already has. I don’t want to give him the
satisfaction.”
    “It’s definitely easier now, but it still hurts some days,”
he said, pulling her closer to him until their bodies were only inches apart.
“But every day away from her is one step closer to the woman of my dreams,
wherever she may be.”
    Charla’s heart pounded against her chest. “Well, wherever
she is, I hope you find her. You deserve to find her.”
    “I know I do,” he whispered with a look intent on swallowing
her lips again. She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips
against hers again when the rev of an engine interrupted them.
    “The track?” She opened her eyes to see a pained expression
on his face.
    “The track,” he grumbled, reluctantly moving away from her.
“But don’t think for a second you’re off the hook. I’m taking a rain check on
that one.”
    I hope you do , Charla thought as they headed back to
his Audi.

 
    Chapter 6
     
    The roar of rumbling engines and
exhaust filled the summer air at Illinois International Raceway. A small crowd
had begun filtering in, watching the stock cars do their practice runs.
According to the sign on the way in, the races didn’t start until seven
tonight. Liam parked his Audi next to a line of pick-up trucks fit for a
redneck hoe-down. The one on the end was caked in mud while the one next to
Liam was jacked a good two feet higher than normal. Gold rims spun slowly in
the breeze like a pinwheel.
    “We’ll fit right in,” Liam said with a laugh as he killed
the engine.
    “Just hope that guy doesn’t run over your car.” Charla
pointed to a man in a flannel cut-off pounding a beer near the hood of his
monster truck.
    “I’d have a thing or two to say about that,” he said,
looking out the windshield. “You forget I’m a bounty hunter? You know that
means I carry a variety of guns with me at any given time, right?”
    “Right. The Irish Gunslinger, how could I forget?” she
joked.
    “That’s what you nicknamed me?” he asked, turning toward her
with wide eyes.
    “Maybe.” She shrugged her shoulders as he shook his head.
“What?”
    “Let’s do this,” he replied, getting out of the car before
she could respond. They stepped out into the cut-down field, the leftover
growth crunching beneath their feet as they walked toward the entrance. It was
flagged by multi-colored pennants in the shape of an arch. A few of the
pennants were missing, giving off a backyard carnival vibe. Charla
half-expected to see a clown with curly red hair and a mini-pony appear. She
hadn’t been at the race track for more than ten years. This time around,
everything seemed different. Smaller. More run-down.
    “What’s the plan?” she shouted above the noise of the
engines. They fired against each other, the drivers revving at a start line.
    “To find him, figure out if he’s my brother, and if he is, then
convince him to help me find our other brother,” he replied.
    “That’s it? No plan? Is this how you catch all the bad guys?
Just walk up to them and slap some cuffs on?” she asked as they walked down a
small slope toward the wooden benches. “No smoke and mirrors? No cloak and
dagger? Just the force of Liam Murphy.”
    “Pretty much,” he said. “I can be convincing, plus I’m not
afraid to use force. I get what I want when I want it.”
    “Now I know why you asked me to come along,” she replied as
he gestured her forward to a seat. She weaved through first and he followed,
sitting down next to her. “You have to do a little work before you get down to
business.”
    “Not always,” he replied. “I thought you could provide some
moral support, but after seeing your little stint at Paradise Club, I think
you’ve got a few tricks of your own up your sleeve.”
    “You bet I do.” She winked and turned back to the track,
looking for car number four.
    “Charla Taylor, who are you?” he asked. She