CHAPTER TEN
Amanda and Gabe are curled up on the couch watching a movie together when Liam and I come inside. They’ve always been an affectionate couple and it’s comforting that their fondness for one another hasn’t waned one bit.
“Mom, we’re going to head out,” Liam announces.
“Already?” She seems reluctant to let me leave as she ushers me into the kitchen to load me down with leftovers.
“I’ll visit,” I promise.
“You better,” she says as she follows us out the door.
At the truck, she motions me closer. “Come here.” She wraps me up in the type of motherly hug I longed for as a child from my own mother, but never received. “It was so good to see you. Don’t hesitate to visit. You’re welcome here anytime.”
I blink rapidly and force a smile. “Thank you.”
On the way home, Liam’s the first to speak. “My mother didn’t—”
“Don’t. You know I love your mom.” Amanda’s words from earlier echo in my head. Does Liam really look at me differently? Hard to believe when he keeps so much distance between us. “So, how many girlfriends have you brought home?”
He stares straight ahead and takes a few seconds to answer my question. “Why are you asking?”
“I’m jealous.” I try to force some lightheartedness into my tone, but end up sounding more like a bunny-boiler. “I don’t like you sharing my surrogate mom and dad with anyone else.” That has to be the biggest lie wrapped around a truth I’ve ever told.
“They’ve always had a special spot in their hearts reserved for you, Bree.”
“That doesn’t answer my original question.” Why am I pushing so hard when I probably don’t even want to know the answer?
“Why are you really asking?”
“You’re a bit of a mystery to me these days.”
“There’s no mystery. I’m the same guy you’ve always known.”
“You’re deflecting. Come on. Tell me. How many girls made the cut?”
“What did my mother tell you?”
I can’t believe he’s avoiding such a simple question. “Nothing.”
He’s quiet while he navigates the tight turns of the mountain road. Once we’re on the main highway he finally answers, “Three.”
“In the last four years, you’ve brought three girls home?”
“In my life,” he clarifies. “I’ve brought three girls home to meet my parents.”
I can’t decide if that’s too many or too few.
I glance over and although he’s casually leaning one arm against the window, while he expertly steers the truck with his other hand, he seems tight with tension. “Does that bother you?” he asks.
In my heart, a little green fairy shouts “Yes!”
“Would it matter if it did?” I ask instead.
“It would matter to me.”
Is he trying to tell me something more? That he regrets other things in the past or am I just hearing what I want to hear? “Well, I can guess Meredith was the first one.”
He flinches at the name of his first serious girlfriend. They’d dated during my junior and senior years of high school. Meredith had pitched a fit when Liam took me to prom—as just friends. “So, who was the last one?”
I don’t miss the way his hand holding the steering wheel tightens. “Why?”
“Well, you know all about my last boyfriend. Tell me about your ex.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Was she pretty? What does she do? How did you meet? Did you love her? Why’d you break up? The normal stuff.”
A pang of remorse tickles me as I watch him struggle to come up with answers. Maybe it didn’t end well. Maybe she broke his heart and he’s still in love with her.
I shouldn’t be this nosy, but I’m sick and tired of being the only one who has her life on display for everyone to dissect and comment on. It’s only fair for Liam to share a little piece of himself with me.
“We met through work. She’s a nurse.”
“Do you still see her?”
“From time to time, yes. But only when I run into her through our jobs. Not socially.”
“Why didn’t it work out?”
“Why are you doing this, Bree?”
“I thought we were friends, Liam. Friends talk about this kind of stuff. Don’t they?”
He pushes out a frustrated breath. “She liked the idea of dating me, but the reality of being in a relationship with someone in law enforcement bothered her.”
“Why?”
“With her job, she’s seen officers shot, killed. It was too much for her. She got possessive and clingy. Wanted me to change careers. Plus, she’s a few years older.”
“I didn’t know you were into older women,” I tease.
He throws a brief glare at me but otherwise ignores the comment. “She wanted to settle down and start a family, and I wasn’t ready for that.”
“Are you ready for that now?”
“Are you?” he shoots back.
Liam’s never used such a harsh tone with me. Not even when we were kids and I did something to annoy him. Confused, I snap back. “We’re not talking about me.”
He jerks the steering wheel to the right and slams the truck into park. His fingers work his seatbelt loose and he turns to face me. “No, we’re not. We haven’t really talked about you since you came home.”
My time with Chad forced me to perfect the ability to hide my emotions. Emotions made him angry.
Liam’s ripping all those walls down in one night, forcing me to feel things I’d rather not. “Are you kidding? All we’ve talked about since I came home is how pathetic I am!”
“Bullshit. You haven’t told me a damn thing.” The anger in his expression sets me on edge. I’m not afraid of Liam. It’s the fear of the unknown we’re racing toward that terrifies me.
“What more do you need to know?” I shout.
“How’d you get involved with such a lowlife? Why don’t we start there?” Before I even open my mouth, he fires off another question I don’t want to answer. “How many times did he lay his hands on you? I know damn well this wasn’t the first time.” He barely pauses for a breath. “Why didn’t you call me when he hurt you? You knew Vince was a fucking ocean away. Why’d you call him instead of me?”
“I didn’t want to! The hospital made me call him.”
He shakes his head as if he’s more sad than angry now. “Jesus Christ, Bree. Anytime you need me, all you have to do is call. I’d drop everything to be there for you.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” I snap back. “You and I hadn’t talked in months.”
“Because that’s what you wanted!” he shouts, frustration rolling off him in waves. “Not me. You shut me, your brother, everyone who cares about you, out. Why? Because Chad told you to?”
I don’t want to think about Chad. The things he forced me to do. To give up. All I want to do is block out the horrible memories of the last four years, but everywhere I turn someone wants a recount of every gory detail. I want to pretend Chad doesn’t even exist. But I can’t. “I left. I was finally leaving.”
“Why? What was the final straw?”
Oh God.
The detachment I built as a kid, and still carry to shield myself, starts to crumble. He’s trying to see inside to the darkest, most tainted parts of me. He wants to make sense of my actions and he can’t. No one can. Not even me.
He turns and slams his palm against the steering wheel. “The first time he laid a finger on you, you should’ve told me. I would have taken care of it, Bree.”
The tears I’ve been desperately trying to hold back explode down my cheeks. Frustrated, angry, humiliating tears. “I didn’t want you to know what a mess I turned into!” My words bounce around inside the truck while Liam stares at me with wide eyes. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this has been? How stupid I feel? I hate him, but I hate myself even more for staying with him.”
The last traces of anger evaporate and he reaches over to touch me, but it’s too late. “Bree, baby, I don’t—”
No. No. No. Pity shines in his eyes and I can’t take it. Flinging off my seatbelt, I throw the door open, ready to run into the darkness rather than hear another word.
“Bree, don’t you dare!” He lunges across the seat, almost grabbing my arm, but I slip free and jump out of the truck.
Staring up at him, I spit out words that aren’t fair. “You’re only here out of obligation to Vince. So don’t act like my big protector, swooping in to save me. I saved myself. I don’t need you taking care of me. I don’t need Vince. I don’t need anyone!” Done with my idiotic rant, I slam the door shut and stalk down the shoulder of the road.
We’re miles from Vince’s house, so maybe jumping out of the truck wasn’t the best idea. But I’m committed now, dammit. All my thoughts race through my head at an alarming rate. Home. Pack. Leave. Or maybe just lock Liam out.
As if that would ever work.
Tears blur my vision and I stumble over the uneven ground.
Liam’s heavy footsteps snap over the gravel behind me.
Oh, hell no. I don’t waste time looking over my shoulder. I break into a flat-out run and pray I don’t trip.
But goddamn Liam and his long, muscular legs that catch up to me in no time. He hooks his arms around my waist, lifting me off the ground and slamming my back against his chest. Wild and furious, I kick and struggle to get free.
“Let me go!”
“No.” He buries his face in my hair, his lips briefly skimming my ear. “Shh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Bree. I’m sorry.”
The raw agony and regret in his voice squelches my fury, and my body sags against him. Liam holds me a few more seconds before loosening his grip and setting me down.
Spinning, I fling my arms around him, crying into his shirt. He wraps me up in his embrace and runs his hands over my hair and down my back. “It’s not your fault, Bree.” He keeps holding me and speaking sweet, soothing words in my ear.
All the fury, all the fight, melts from my body as he holds me, rocking me from side to side there on the shoulder of the road.