Page 11 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Liam

I stupidly set my alarm for p.m. instead of a.m. and now I’m late, which means Adelaide might already be here, and now I’m anxious.

Again.

Great.

I had to race from Mia’s house to the studio, and I hate starting my mornings like this, because it’s hard to shake it off and continue with the rest of the day, but I have no choice.

We’re behind on filming, so Linc and I have to rush through it all so he can spend the afternoon with his on-again, off-again whatever they are.

I still need to shower.

I’ve barely slept.

And I can’t stop thinking about Adelaide.

Fuck.

The door to the “office” is wide open—no Adelaide. Relief washes through me, but I don’t even have time to relax. I take the quickest shower in the history of ever, then dry and wrap the towel around my waist. The second I open the bathroom door, I freeze.

So does Adelaide Baker.

Her eyes are level with my bare chest and she keeps them there, and I look straight ahead, above her height, toward the bedroom where I wish I could be.

She says I broke her—the words that kept me up all night—and maybe I did…

She clears her throat.

I do the same.

“Liam,” she deadpans, and then she’s gone.

I wait until I’m in the confines of the bedroom with the door closed to do something as simple as breathe .

I broke her?

Maybe.

But there’s a big difference between what I did to her and what she did to me, and that’s intent .

I didn’t mean to hurt her.

It’s all she meant with me.

The conclusion came to me at around five this morning, and it was enough to allow me to feel at peace with her accusation. And once I decided I would confront her about it, I could finally rest.

Mind.

Body.

All of it.

I step out of my room and go directly to the next, where I lean against the doorframe and… do nothing. I hadn’t planned exactly what I wanted to say. I just know I need to say something .

She’s sitting at the desk, an open folder filled with documents in front of her, and she says, “If you’re here to pile on, can you wait a few days?

” Her eyes meet mine, bloodshot, surrounded by darkness, and it looks like she’s had about as much sleep as I have.

Her hair’s loose today, wave after wave, and it’s the first time I’ve seen it not in a braid since her return.

“I really can’t take much more today, Liam. ”

I stutter a breath, my heart skipping a pulse. “How could you always tell us apart?” It’s completely irrelevant to the issue at hand, but it’s what comes out anyway.

She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. She sounds annoyed when she asks, “What?”

“You’ve always been able to tell me and Linc apart,” I say. “How?”

After looking away, she focuses on the papers in front of her. “Your eyes.”

Liar. “We have the same eyes.”

She clicks on the mouse a few times, but nothing on the computer screen changes.

I bite back a sigh, standing to full height.

“Listen, I know you and Helmet are… whatever you are, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t invite him here again.

” I pause a beat, make sure she’s listening.

“I’m not saying that to be a dick, but I’m pretty sure you know the reasons I don’t want him near me. ”

She doesn’t take her eyes off the screen, but I notice her brow bunch the tiniest bit. “He won’t come here again.”

The front door bursts open, and Lincoln yells, “Your dumb ass better be ready to work!”

Ignoring him, I keep my eyes on Adelaide as she turns her attention to me.

After raising her eyebrows, she asks, “You really let him treat you like that, huh?”

I shrug. “I let you treat me a hell of a lot worse.”

Addie

My parents weren’t just slaves to addiction.

They became so rooted in that addiction that they became slaves to the person who supplied their addiction.

In other words: They were drug dealers. The problem with addicts becoming dealers is that they plow through their supply before they can profit.

So… my parents owed a lot of money to a lot of people.

Bad people.

I assume that’s why they left.

I tried to recall how it all happened, because I know for a fact that they hadn’t always been that way.

Something changed when we moved here, and it was as instantaneous as it was confusing.

And terrifying. And as Roman gave me the footnotes of their story, I started remembering parts of my childhood that I had locked away.

There were pages in my journal dedicated to my experience, sketches of crystals and ribbons of smoke and needles and names —names that never made sense to me…

and still don’t. They were mere hauntings in my mind, things that would keep me up at night like a single piece of a puzzle on the never-ending scavenger hunt.

Roman didn’t know about their debt until he’d moved back into the trailer to take care of me.

Just because my parents disappeared, it didn’t mean their problems went with them.

He told me a man showed up one night while I was sleeping, threatened his life and mine , and didn’t give him a choice in the matter.

My parents’ debt became his, and suddenly, he was living the life he was working so hard to take me away from. Minus the intake of drugs.

He considered running away, but he felt like that man would find us no matter what, and who knows what our fate would be then?

That same man would come by occasionally to collect what was owed, and Roman didn’t want me around any of it. So, he cut the wire on the fence behind our house, gave me a phone, and made sure I had enough time to run and hide.

And so I did.

I’d run onto the Preston property and hide out by an old VW bus.

My brother said he trusted the Prestons, even before he worked for them. He knew—even then—that if anything were to happen, they’d take care of me.

News flash: They didn’t. Not that I expected them to.

This went on for six years until he was caught.

And so was I.

He didn’t go into the details of what all went down with his arrest. He just said that it was complicated.

I didn’t ask questions, too caught up with everything else he was divulging.

And I don’t know if I purposely blocked out the memories of it all or if he was really fucking good at hiding it from me.

I remember the gap in the fence, and I remember running and hiding, but I can’t quite recall if I knew why or if I just did it because he told me to and because I trusted him.

Because I knew, deep down in my soul, that he’d ruined the entire course of his life for me …

and I knew, even at eight years old, while I held his hand as he walked me out of the nurse’s office… I knew he would save me.

He always did.

And now…

Now that I know everything he’s given up for me, everything he’s done for me, I wish I’d never had the school call him that fateful day. But I was scared, and I was hungry, and I hadn’t seen my parents in days, and I just wanted… I wanted my brother, but?—

There’s a certain guilt the comes with being saved, especially when it’s happened multiple times by multiple people.

I swipe at my tears when I hear the quiet hum of a vehicle approaching, then look up at the trees in front of me, let the sunlight filtering past the leaves burn through my retinas.

Roman had called a few minutes earlier and told me he was on his way, so I came outside to sit on the porch steps and wait for him. Obviously, I hadn’t planned to get all up in my feelings while I waited, but here I am.

A golf cart pulls up at the front of the cabin, with Liam behind the steering wheel.

He doesn’t greet me when he notices me, which is fine.

I wouldn’t, either. Instead, he grabs the black gym bag sitting beside him, as well as a tripod, then hops off the cart and heads straight toward me.

“You waiting on Roman?” he asks, and I don’t look at him when I nod.

He sighs, the sound so loud, so heavy, it mirrors exactly how I feel on the inside.

I shift to the side so he can climb the few steps onto the porch, but he doesn’t go into the cabin. He carefully sets his equipment down, then parks his ass right next to me.

Great. Can’t wait to hear what he has to say.

I should look at him, or at least acknowledge his existence, but I seem to be frozen in the depths of my own mental state.

For a long moment, we sit in silence, and I really wish I knew what he wanted, because even I’m uncomfortable.

“Just so you know, the cops came to my house that night…” His words kick-start my pulse, have me sitting taller, straining to hear what he has to say next.

“They saw me on the ATV, and they knew it was Linc or me, but Linc was home all night, so my dad pressured me to tell them everything I knew.” He sighs, as if it physically pains him to have to divulge all this.

“I didn’t want to tell them where you were hiding.

I hadn’t told anyone before that night. Not my dad.

Not even Linc , and I pretty much tell him everything. ”

I face him now, try to keep my expression passive.

I don’t want him to know how much he’s affecting me.

My gaze meets his, and he was right earlier—he and Lincoln do have the same eyes.

They’re the type of blue that makes you want to swim in their depth, unafraid of what’s beneath.

But there is a difference he doesn’t sense, because it’s not one you can see , only feel .

“The cops convinced me it would be the right thing to do,” he continues.

“They said if they don’t find you first, then someone else might, and who knows what—” He chokes on a breath, his lashes lowering.

“Who knows what someone else might do to you…” His throat moves with his swallow as he lifts his eyes back to mine. “I thought I was protecting you.”

My lips part, wanting so desperately to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

“They said that they’d find your parents and that you’d be safe with them.” As if on cue, Roman pulls into the driveway, and we both turn at the sound. I get to my feet, shouldering my backpack as Liam watches me from below. “Did they?” he asks.

“Did they what?”

“Did they find your parents?”

I take a moment, deciding how much I want to let him in.

Then I shake my head, but don’t say anything more before stepping away.

I’m halfway to Roman’s truck when I find myself slowing down, then stopping completely.

The constant guilt of forever being “saved” forces me to turn on my heels and face him.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it,” I start, attempting to keep my voice even.

Calm. “Maybe one day, I’ll even be ready to receive it.

” A knot lodges in my throat, making it hard to speak, let alone breathe.

“But right now, I’m going through something, and I—I just can’t … ”

Liam nods, as if understanding, but how could he?

I quickly turn away, my footsteps rushed. But I freeze when he calls out, “I hope you feel better, Addie.”

My eyes drift shut, my heart, my soul, my entire everything suddenly transported back to that room, to that day.

I recognize his eyes first. Ocean blue. Kind. Worried.

I face him again, the image of him blurred by the liquid pain coating my vision. “Thanks, Liam.”