Liam just held Mike's head there, his own breathing rough and ragged from his burst of anger. Or at least what seemed like anger. The truth was this was just another tool. The same as his anger had always been. Strategically applied reactions to keep Mike scared, to keep him on his toes. It was rooted in some truth, he was irritated about the whole marshal business, but he'd been at this too long to be worried. No, if he'd ever been truly angry with Mike, the junkie wouldn't be breathing anymore.

After several long moments did Liam yank Mike's face up from the bed by his hair. "You're going to learn to mind your tongue," he growled in the other's ear. "Or I'll mind it for you. And you really don't want that."

He kept his grip on Mike's hair as he straightened up. He didn't give Mike a chance to respond or catch his breath for any longer than it took to utter those words. Because as he stood up, he brought the crop down as hard as he could across Mike's exposed ass. It fell just short of leaving a welt because of the angle, but it was a good start.