Chapter Two
Liam
He wasn’t going to answer. Simple as that. He could see the top of her head through the peephole in the middle of the door. He recognized her voice from hearing her call to her son in the hallway. It was his next-door neighbor. The blonde. She was cute. Nice tits. But he didn’t want anything to do with her. Or anyone for that matter. If he was quiet, she’d go away. He was still staring at the top of her blonde head though.
At first, the knock on the door had sent a small shiver of fear of up his spine. He wondered who the hell it could be. He didn’t know anyone in the building. He didn’t want to know anyone in the building. Getting to know the neighbors was the last thing he wanted to do.
Especially women; his wife had given him up to the cops with no hesitation. He knew that it was her and ever since then he’d come out of jail he’d been looking for her.
There was just one problem.
Police Protection Services.
They had done a good job. His ex, Harriet, had changed her name and was living…somewhere. Liam had no idea where this was and until he found out, he wasn’t having anything to do with the blonde next door. Even if she was cute.
He figured turning up the TV would be a good way to let his unwelcome caller know he didn’t want to be disturbed. But this girl was persistent.
“Hey, I know you’re home!”
“Just because I’m home doesn’t mean that I want to talk to you.”
She peers up through the peephole and Liam is struck by her eyes. They’re beautiful; violet, wide, thickly lashed and, right now, incredibly unguarded. They tug at something deep inside him, but he’s quick to stomp down on the feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He’s not about to get wrapped up with some female, especially not with the girl next door. She could be a younger version of Harriet. Not that they’d been married that long. But long enough for her to figure out that he wasn’t just a drifter. He got his money from somewhere and the moment she discovered the truth she didn’t hesitate in getting a new life and keeping his last pay packet.
He watches as she leans forward, her hands flat on the door, stretching up on her toes to get closer to the peephole. “Hey, I could, I mean, I need some help...I live, just, uh…next door,” she says. Her voice is practically in his ear. She’s got the slightest of accents, a little Midwestern ring with a touch of small town. Nope.
“I’m busy.”
Damn! Can’t she take a hint?. I’ve been living next door to her for six months. Six long months and not once have I invited her in.
“It would really take just a minute.” She’s peering up at the peephole like she can see him on the other side. The feeling that she’s staring deep into his eyes makes him shift back and step away from the door.
“Wait!”
He takes another step back. “I said I’m busy.” He makes sure to stomp across the floor so she can hear him walking away.
He flops back onto his threadbare sofa and picks up the remote, flicking through the hundreds of channels the box provides to him. Watching television is about the only thing he does now and occasionally drinking at the local bar. Then when he’s hungry he’ll sit in the diner. Just so that he doesn’t feel alone. Even in jail, he never ate alone, and Liam wants to think of his time as temporary, until he finds her.
Until he gets Harriet and makes her pay for what she did.
He hasn’t figured out how he’ll make her pay. But he’s an outlaw. Once a conman and now waiting to find the person who brought him down. He expects to figure it out when the moment comes.
He’s got a stash of cash and his apartment is paid up for the next six months. No one knows he’s here and that’s how he plans to keep it. He’s going to sit on his couch, watch TV, drink beer and eat pie for the next few months before packing it in and moving on somewhere else.
He drops the remote onto the low table in front of him and looks back at the door. He crosses the room again, quietly this time, and looks through the peephole. The hallway is empty. He runs his hand over his dark, closely cropped hair and sighs deeply. Glancing back over his shoulder at the television he watches a ball soaring across the screen before bouncing off the edge of the goal and the fans start to boo and hiss. That pretty much sums up his life. The booing and hissing follows him into the hallway before he cuts it off with the door.
Just a few steps to the right and Liam is standing in front of his neighbor’s door. He should turn around while there’s still time. He doesn’t need to get mixed up with anyone, especially a little blonde with long eyelashes. He raps his knuckles on the door twice and steps back when it’s yanked open before he’s had the chance to drop his hand.
The little blonde is looking up at him, her eyebrows pulled together as she tries to place him. Damn, she is a pretty little thing, round in all the right places and her hair looks like it would slip through his fingers like silk. She must notice the way he’s checking her out because she steps back and pushes at the door, trying to put it between her and him. Like he couldn’t get in if that’s what he wanted. He must have had a hundred pounds on her.
“Can I help you?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. You came banging on my door earlier. I live next door.” He gestures down the hall with his thumb.
“Oh! Yes! Oh my God, thank you. Come in. I’m Willow.” She’s babbling at him and stepping back, waving him inside. She must be insane, inviting a stranger into her home. He should a have a talk with her about that. Well, if he knew her he’d have a talk with her about that. But he doesn’t know her. Or care about her. So, no talk.
“Liam.”
He steps inside and takes in the room in one sweeping look. Cheap furniture, old television, a couple of banged-up toys in the corner. This girl is definitely down on her luck. He really hopes she’s not going to try and feed him some sob story. He’s already regretting coming over here and he’s only two feet inside the door.
She pushes the door closed and walks across the room. Liam trails behind her, checking out the way her ass sways in her worn-out jeans. She’s babbling at him again.
“…and it just stopped going down. I’m sorry about the smell. I tried the window but it only opens a few inches. I can’t afford a plumber and I don’t know if you know anything about sinks but...” she trails off and motions to the sink.
Liam steps over the sink, his lip curling up at the smell. God, what a reek. He wonders how long it’s been like this. He wonders why she just didn’t call maintenance. He wonders what the hell he’s doing over here. Fuck it, he’s here, might as well take a look. If he fixes it she might leave him alone. Giving an exasperated sigh, he flips open the lower cabinet doors and slides under the sink.
There’s a wrench that just fits the pipe shoved to the back of cabinet so it must be a recurring problem. He grabs it and gives the pipes a tap, listening for a gurgle. He can hear what’s-her-name, Willow, babbling at him again but he can’t understand what she’s saying. Damn, chatty chicks drive him crazy. He eyes the U-bend in the pipe and slides back out.
“You got a bucket?”
“Uhhh…” She’s looking around the room like a bucket’s going to drop out of the sky.
“Bowl? Pot? Anything that will hold water?” He shakes his head and heaves himself off the floor when she doesn’t move, snatching a pot off the stove and shoving it under the pipe before applying the wrench and opening it up. Fetid water gushes into the waiting pot along with a little plastic car that plops out. He fishes it out with the edge of the wrench and flicks it onto the counter. “Don’t let your kid stick crap down the drain.”
“I didn’t let him drop stuff in there on purpose,” she huffs.
He shrugs and reconnects the pipes. When he finishes up he hands the wrench to Willow. “Here, you’ll probably need this again.” He runs cleans water through the drain and washes his hands. Willow is watching him, not saying anything but he can see the red flush high across her cheeks. His remark about her kid pissed her off then. Tough shit.
Liam stalks across the kitchen and to the front door, Willow right behind him. He can tell she wants to say something and he wants to be out before she can open her mouth. He reaches for the door knob but before he can twist it open she’s there, her hand on his, warm and soft across the back of his knuckles. It’s been a very long time since anyone has put their hand on his. He’s not sure he likes the feeling.
“Hey,” she says softly “I’m not a bad mom. But I’m a single mom and it’s hard sometimes.”
Liam doesn’t answer her. His experiences with moms are limited to his own mother and it wasn’t exactly cupcakes and kisses.
“Thank you. For fixing my sink,” she says to him.
He can hear the catch in her voice. He never could resist a woman in tears. Fuck, he hoped she held it together until he got out of her apartment. He shakes her hand off of his and starts to turn the knob but stops again.
“Next time you got a problem, call the manager or maintenance guy. I pay my rent and this ain’t my job.”
Then he snatches open the door and stomps down the hallway to his own apartment. When he glances back at her door before opening his own, she’s still in the doorway, watching him.