CHAPTER EIGHT
Liam’s waiting for me with a patient smile on his handsome face when I emerge from Maggie’s office.
After dredging up so much emotional garbage, I can’t think of anything to say on the way home, so I stare out the window, willing the tears that have threatened to fall all afternoon to go away.
For some reason Liam’s also quiet. Both of his hands grip the steering wheel so tight, it’s in danger of snapping.
“Did you run your errands?” I ask because I can’t stand the silence any longer.
“Yes.” His short, clipped answer stings, so I return to staring out the window.
“Everything go okay with Maggie?” he asks in a tight voice.
“It was…difficult going over all those details.” I don’t tell him the worst part, that Maggie gave me the number of a therapist she wants me to contact.
His jaw works from side to side. “I know. But you have to do it.” He smacks the steering wheel with his palm to emphasis his point.
What the hell? “I did it, didn’t I?” I fire back.
“Well, it’s only going to be more difficult if it goes to trial.” His condescending cop tone makes me want to flip him off, stick my tongue out, or something equally juvenile.
“Yeah, I know. Maggie warned me,” I answer calmly instead.
“Good,” he says, staring straight ahead.
“Are you mad at me, Liam?”
“What?” He glances over and takes my hand. “No. Why would you ask that?”
“You’ve seemed angry since you picked me up.”
“I…” He hesitates and squeezes my hand. “I hate that you have to go through all this. I wish I could make it easier or do it for you or something.”
That I can live with. His admission removes the remaining tension between us and I relax into the seat. “You’ve already done so much for me. Thank you, Liam.”
“I’d do anything for you, Bree.” His low hypnotic voice melts me. He glances over. “You look so pretty, let’s go out to dinner.”
My cheeks heat up from the compliment. “Don’t you have to go to work?”
“I switched shifts. I’m working the day shift tomorrow.”
“Oh.” I hate disappointing him when he’s gone to the trouble of changing his schedule for me. “I’m so drained. I don’t think I can—”
“Another time.” He glances over and gives me a half-smile. “Will you wear that dress for me?”
“If you like it that much, you can borrow it.” I cover my mouth with my hand, but it does nothing to cover my giggles.
He snorts and shakes his head. “Wiseass.”
Unease from my “talk” with Chad follows me home. That’s the first time I’ve bent a rule since I was accepted into the Sherriff’s academy. Never choked anyone or threatened them on the job either. I fully believe law enforcement should be used to strengthen relationships within the community and protect the public in a fair, respectful way. And I’m well-aware that not all my colleagues have that view.
I behaved in a way I ordinarily despise.
And I felt nothing. No beat-on-my-chest moment when I left the jail. No guilt. Nothing but the grim satisfaction of checking off an item on my to-do list.
There’s a remote chance I’ll lose my job or worse.
I glance over at Bree and know that I’d do it again, no matter what.
I wasn’t bluffing either. He’s dead if he comes near her.
The interview must have brought up a lot of painful things she’d rather forget. Mom and Dad’s house would be a better place to take her than the two of us sitting around Vince’s place all night.
“You want to stop by and see my parents?” I ask as I pull into Vince’s driveway. “They’d love for you to visit.”
“I don’t want to drop in on your mom. That’s rude.”
“Bree, you pretty much grew up at my house. You’re family. Trust me, she won’t mind.”
I sense she’s still unsure. “I’ll call and check that they’re not busy or something, okay?”
She flashes a brief hint of a smile. “Okay. Let me run in and freshen up.”
I watch as she flies into the house, before calling my mother.
“Of course I want to see her,” my mother says after I explain most of the situation.
Bree’s tugging on the door and throwing herself into the passenger seat by the time I hang up.
“All clear.” My voice comes out strained as I run my gaze over the denim shorts, T-shirt, and sneakers she changed into. How can someone look so damn sexy in sneakers?
“I bet now that their nest is empty it’s best to call ahead.”
It takes a minute for her meaning to sink in. “Thanks, Bree. Now I’m always going to have that in my head when I stop by.”
She laughs while I make a big show of shaking that mental image out of my head.
My parents have a decent amount of property a little outside the town limits. Not a lot of neighbors. Perfect for target practice and bonfires. Two of my favorite things when I was a kid.
“Man, my legs always got a workout when Vince and I rode our bikes over here,” she remarks as I steer the truck onto the narrow mountain road leading to their house. “I was so happy when he finally got his license.”
“There’s a bus stop at the top of the hill now.”
“What? You’re kidding,” she grumbles, sitting back and folding her arms over her chest.
When Vince and Bree stayed over—which was often when they were younger—the long trek up the hill after school was brutal. Sometimes my mother would be waiting for us at the bus stop to drive us the rest of the way. Other times she told us the fresh air would do us good.
In the spring, Bree would stop to pick so many flowers, the walk took twice as long. Drove Vince crazy, having to stop and wait every five minutes, but I never minded. It was one of the few things that made her smile.
I haven’t missed Bree’s endless fidgeting the entire way. Without even thinking about, I reach over and settle my hand on her leg. “Relax. They’ll be so happy to see you. My mother’s always asking about you.”
She reaches up and pulls down the visor mirror. “You didn’t tell them…about Chad…about what happened to me, did you?”
I’d give anything to take the shame and uncertainty out of her voice.
“No. You asked me not to say anything to anyone, so I didn’t.”
“Thank you.”
“You could talk to my mom. If you need…I know I’m not…”
“I don’t think so. It’s too embarrassing.”
“She wouldn’t judge you, Bree. You know she loves you and your brother.”
She’s silent for a few seconds. “I feel terrible,” she finally says. “I love your parents. I haven’t called or stopped by to see them in so long. They always treated me so well, and I’ve been a shit in return.”
Anguish colors her words. Reaching over, I capture one of her hands in mine. “Stop. It’s normal to get wrapped up in stuff when you leave home for the first time.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her shaking her head.
“Hey, you send them cards every Christmas and on their anniversary. They’re my parents and I don’t always remember their wedding date. But you do.”
“I remember because it always amazes me that two people can still be so in love after so many years,” she says so quietly, I almost miss the words. “Do you want that eventually?” she asks.
I’m not sure how to answer. Of course I do. Except when I try to picture myself with someone, she always looks like…“Doesn’t everyone?”
“No. I don’t think my brother does.”
“Sure he does. He just hasn’t met the right girl.”
“If by right girl, you mean he hasn’t met someone who can tolerate his grumpy butt for more than two weeks, then I guess you’re right.”
Laughter rolls through me as I park the truck in my parents’ driveway. “Ever since he dated the one who chalked “happy one-week anniversary” in front of his house, I try to stay out of it.”
“Wow, I never heard that story.” She chuckles. Love that I can break through the grim shadows she’s wrapped herself in, even if it’s only for a few seconds. “Ready?” I ask, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “You look beautiful, Brianna.”
Her lips part, as if the compliment surprises her.
The sudden urge to kiss her overtakes me, but I pull away.
“Come on. You know Mom hates it when we’re late.”
“I remember.”
I meet her on the other side of the truck and take her hand, surprising both of us, I think.
“Liam,” my mother calls out as we step into the foyer.
“Bree,” she sings even louder as soon as she spots Brianna hiding behind me.
I bend down to kiss my mom’s cheek and allow her a few seconds to run her hand through my unruly hair. “You need a haircut,” she tsks at me.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Out back,” she answers, shoving past me to get to Brianna. “Look at you. Beautiful girl, come here.” She pulls Bree into a tight hug, which Bree returns. At the last second I catch Bree staring at me with tears shining in her eyes.
“I’m so happy to see you, Mrs. Hollister.”
“The house smells amazing, Ma. Are you planning to feed us or make us stand here and drool,” I say, hoping to move things along and make Bree a little less uncomfortable.
That does the trick. My mother takes pride in entertaining. Even the suggestion she’s not taking care of her guests sends her into a frenzy.
“Let me help, Mrs. Hollister,” Bree says, reminding me of when she was younger. She’d always been eager to help my parents do things around the house. As if one wrong move would get her tossed out.
Sounds of chaos erupt from the backyard and my mother sighs. “Please go help your father before he sets the place on fire.”
I leave the two of them and hope my mother’s able to work some of her magic with Bree.