Liam

 

I barely ate. I barely slept.

I thought too much.

Arrangements had to be made for Dad. Mom wanted to do it, but then it became too much and I had to step in to make sure everything she wanted got handled. People called. People brought food. People cried and said they were sorry.

Their grief was heavy, and the more that stopped by, the more weighed down by it all I felt.

Between it all, I hired out cleaners for the cabin and a locksmith for the broken door. The image of Bellamy about to clean up the blood of those fuckbags still haunted me.

The fact she was doing it so I didn’t have to look at it was worse.

I called the kitchen where she worked so Chef knew not to expect her in. I dealt with the police and their fifty million fucking questions. I almost came to blows with asshole Frost—aka Agent Frost of the FBI. The idea that they should haul Bellamy in for briefing and God knew what else made me murderous.

These guys had no sense of humanity at all. After everything she’d been through, after everything I hadn’t been able to protect her from, they thought I would allow an interrogation?

Fuck them.

Over my cold, dead body. I told them that, too.

They backed off. I didn’t give them a choice. I handled most of their questions, and I knew eventually they would talk to her, but it would be when she was ready and not a moment sooner.

I missed her.

My hands trembled with it. My ears turned to new voices every time they carried close by, hoping one was hers. The more time quickened by, the tighter all the knots in me became, the closer the darkness in me grew until it tinted the edge of my vision.

Despite the constant demands on my time, it was her I thought of beneath it all. Her I kept going for. If I couldn’t be with her, the least I could do was shield her.

Especially since I’d failed so hard at that before.

I fought myself a thousand times a day in my desire to go over to Alex’s and pull her close. I didn’t allow it. For several reasons:

1) I was afraid it would send my mother over the edge. I was a breathing link to my father, and taking that away seemed cruel.

2) There were so many things to deal with. Every minute of my day was overfull. For those who thought death meant the end, for those left behind, it was only the beginning.

3) I was scared. Scared I wasn’t good enough for her. Scared I would fuck up again and hurt her even worse.

And…

4) Denying myself the one thing that truly gave me any sense of peace was fitting punishment.

All the arrangements were made. Flowers were on nearly every surface of this house. The fridge was so full it barely closed. After locking up the place, I went upstairs and shut myself in the bathroom, rubbing my hand over my eyes. They felt dry and gritty. My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth for days, and I felt if I didn’t get some real sleep, I wouldn’t make it through the service tomorrow.

After splashing some freezing-cold water on my face, I stared in the mirror. Taking in the bloodshot eyes, untrimmed beard, and wild hair, I turned away. My eyes fell on the closet, where I moved without thought.

Wrenching open the door, I stared at the organized racks, zeroing right in on all the orange bottles with white lids.

Dad had been dying.

This cabinet was stocked with pain pills.

I closed my eyes against the lined-up prescriptions, but all that did was allow my other senses to remind me of the haze of indifference a few pills could offer. The way they could offer solace from a mind as tumultuous as mine.

With a soft sound, I snatched a bottle from the shelf and dumped some of the tablets into my palm. I stood there staring at them for a long time, a war raging inside me.

Take them.

Don’t take them.

Doo it.

You’re better than this.

“Liam?” Mom called from the hall.

I replaced the bottle and shoved what I had poured out into the pocket of my jeans. “Right here,” I answered, leaving the bathroom.

“I think I might take one of those—” She faltered and glanced at me. Then away. Then back again. “I’m pretty exhausted. It’s been a long few days. I think I’m going to turn in, try and get a full night’s sleep before tomorrow.”

“You can say you’re taking a sleeping pill, Mom. That’s why the doctor gave them to you. For rest.”

I was the biggest fucking hypocrite just then. The damn pain pills I’d just stolen from her cabinet tripled in weight and threatened to choke me even from the pocket of my pants.

“How about you, Liam? Have you had the urge to… take anything?”

“No.” I straight up lied.

She nodded, accepting the lie as though I’d fed it to her on a baby spoon. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, coming forward to hug me. “Your father is, too.”

I’m sure he’d be real proud of me for lying.

“Thank you for being here these past few days.” She went on, still hugging me. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“You can always count on me, Mom,” I rasped.

I thought of Bellamy in the moment. Wondering what she’d been doing without me.

God, I missed her.

She pulled back and smiled. “Well, I’m off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure.” I agreed and watched her slip into the bathroom.

I stood in the kitchen and listened to her moving around. Once she shut herself in the bedroom, I waited for her light to go off, and then I stood at the window, looking out into the night.

The pills in my pocket seemed to vibrate. Seemed to sing some kind of siren’s song.

I was at my breaking point.

I was attending the memorial service for my father tomorrow. What was left of him would sit on the mantel or wherever my mother chose to put him.

I wanted Bellamy.

Taking care of her from afar sucked. The way I saw it, I had a choice: take the pills and float away until the sun rose or go to the only true peace I knew.

It wasn’t hard to slip out of the house silently. Hopefully, Mom was already asleep and wouldn’t even notice I was gone. I didn’t even try to talk myself out of it as I climbed into the truck and backed down the driveway.

This was about survival. This was about getting something that was as essential as air.

Alex opened the door almost the second I pulled up. I jogged up the back steps, my heart fluttering erratically in my chest. Nervous energy coiled beneath my skin, nearly making me twitch.

“How is she?” I asked by way of greeting.

“She looks about the same as you,” Alex said, studying my face. “Worse than shit.”

Impulsively, I reached out and hugged him. Since my father passed, we’d been communicating regularly via phone. I checked up on Bellamy more than she realized. But this was the first I’d really had any face-to-face time with my best friend.

Alex hugged me back instantly, patting my back with his palm.

I pulled back, and we moved into the house. It was dark and quiet. I went into the living room, expecting to see her curled up on the sofa. She wasn’t there.

“Where is she?” I asked, turning back.

“In bed.”

I bristled. “In your bed?”

“I’m taking the couch.” He gestured to the mess of blankets.

“Right,” I said, deflating. “I’m sorry, man.”

Alex chuckled. “Minor,” he quipped.

“So minor it doesn’t even need an apology,” I said, a ghost of a smile haunting my face.

“You remembered,” he said, placing a hand over his heart as if he were touched.

“High school wasn’t that long ago, dick.”

He chuckled, and I started moving.

“Don’t be getting it on in my bed,” Alex called out behind me, keeping his voice low.

I gave him the finger and kept going.

Truth was sex wasn’t even on my mind. Just touching her, just breathing the same air as her would be enough.

I slipped into the dark room. Charlie began growling before the door was even closed. I still didn’t know how he ended up at the resort the other night, but I knew it was likely because Bells was trying to protect him.

“Charlie,” I whispered, and the growling stopped. He leapt off the bed and jumped at me, putting his paws near my shoulders, and dragged his large, super-sticky tongue up my face.

I scratched his ears and felt the first sense of relief loosen my tight muscles.

“Good boy,” I told him quietly. “Good boy for keeping watch over our favorite girl.”

Moving past Charlie, I crept toward the bed. Bellamy hadn’t even moved since I walked in. It took a moment to find her small frame in the blankets, but once I did, I didn’t look away.

Kicking off my shoes and tossing the shirt on the floor, I crawled over the mattress gingerly, slipped beneath the blankets, and moved toward her.

Her breathing was even, her body relaxed against the mattress.

With no hesitation, I slipped my arms around her, tugging gently to bring her entire body against mine. I folded around her, trying to touch every inch I possibly could. In inhaled deeply, taking in her familiar scent and letting it act as balm to the worst of my wounds.

She stirred then, still partly asleep but awake enough to register she wasn’t alone.

I waited for her to stiffen and push me away. If she did, I would go.

Her small, graceful arms slid over mine, her fingers wrapping around my wrist and holding on. A gentle, relieved sigh filled the silence of the room, and her body pressed farther back into mine.

Just like that, everything inside me quieted. The pills in my pocket were completely forgotten. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was okay.

I was home.