Page 58 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Addie

I slept. I don’t know how long I slept for, but it wasn’t long enough for my mind and body to recover. The first thought that flooded my mind when I opened my eyes was that I’ve revealed too much. Now, I refuse to speak.

Roman and Dayna try to get me to eat. I refuse that, too.

Roman explained where we are and what we’re doing here, and regardless of my genuine belief that Dayna is a literal angel sent from above, she didn’t just appear out of thin air when I needed her the most. Roman had called days earlier, but she wasn’t able to leave until this morning. She was already almost here when I?—

The doorbell rings, and it takes all my energy to lift my head toward the sound.

I’m sitting on the couch, Dayna beside me. Roman goes to answer the door. He’d been pacing the entire time since I’d woken up and came out here.

Liam was gone.

Because of course he was.

I don’t know how long ago that was, but it feels like another lifetime.

Soft voices filter from the front door, and a moment later, Roman returns with Logan and Liam right behind.

Liam is back.

Because of course he is.

The sweetest, kindest boy in the world.

His eyes meet mine, but I look away before he can see the things I fail to keep hidden.

“Hey, Addie,” Logan says, and my lips twitch when I attempt to smile. He sits down on the coffee table right in front of me, and I pull my knees closer to my chest, not because I’m afraid of him, but because I don’t want him to see me.

I don’t want anyone to see me like this.

I lower my head to my knees, my body tensing when I feel the couch dip beside me.

A hand rests softly on my back, and the touch alone surges through my body, creates warmth in the cold, dark places where I’ve been drowning.

Without meaning to, I lean into Liam’s touch.

Into him. His hand moves up my back to cup my shoulder, bringing me closer.

Logan shifts forward an inch. I don’t see it; I sense it. “So… Roman asked me to come by and… see if you wanted to talk…”

I shake my head.

Logan adds, “He thought it might help if you spoke to someone who’s been through something similar.”

Immediately, my head pops up, my eyes wide. I look from Logan to Liam, asking for confirmation. I don’t want it to be true. Please, don’t let it be. Liam’s eyes drift shut, blocking me access to the ocean behind them, and then he nods. Just once.

Beside me, Dayna asks, her tone soft, gentle, “If you don’t mind me asking… how did you get through it?”

I face Logan again, the fear and worry tearing at my chest. “My family. My girlfriend. And therapy. Lots of it.” He pauses a breath. “But none of those work without the other.”

“We’ve tried therapy,” Dayna says. “I mean, just the one time, but she hated it.”

Logan’s lips tick up at the corners. “That’s because she hasn’t tried my therapist.”

Dayna sighs. “I’m going to assume she’s local, then?”

Logan nods.

“We live four hours away.”

“I know it’s inconvenient,” Logan says. “But I really think it might help. It’s helped me to the point…

” His voice fades as I look up at my brother.

He’s already watching me, his eyes filled with liquid heartache.

Past the tears—nothing but pure anguish, agony, uncertainty…

but beyond that, I can see the hope, the wish for something more for me.

Tears blur my vision as our eyes hold. The things he wants for me seem so out of reach, so far in the distance, but…

he’s never given up on me, never once wavered in his love for me. So, for him—“I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Dayna asks.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks as I face her, nodding.

Her gaze drops. “I’m only here for a couple of days, Addie. I wish I could stay longer, but?—”

“It’s okay,” I cut in. “I understand.”

“I’ll call in the morning,” Roman says. “I’ll see if we can get you in as soon as possible. Maybe you can do a couple of sessions while Dayna’s here, so you can talk to her about it—if you want to. Or me. Or any of us.”

I nod up at my brother.

“It’ll take time, Addie,” Logan says, and I trail my eyes to his.

“You and Liam have the same smile,” I tell him. “The soft one you’re giving me now. It’s… comforting.”

His smile widens, his gaze flicking to Liam quickly before returning to me. “Sucks that I’m the more handsome one, then.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head.

“Addie!” Dayna gasps, and then she laughs, and I missed her laugh.

I miss mine, too.

Logan stands. “We’ll let you get some rest.” He faces Roman. “If I see your ass at work tomorrow, you’re fired.”

Roman nods, then offers his hand for a shake.

The moment Logan’s hand meets his, Roman pulls him in for a hug, one that lasts longer than I expected.

“Thanks, man,” he murmurs, and I hate myself for forgetting that Roman has feelings, too.

That even though he doesn’t feel what I feel, watching me fall apart from the outside is just as bad.

I get to my feet and move toward them. As soon as they split, I hug Logan, too. “Thank you,” I say, not just because he came back to talk to me, but because he’s been there for Roman when I couldn’t be.

He returns my hug, his embrace as comforting as his smile. When he pulls away, he looks directly into my eyes. “You can call me anytime, okay?”

I nod, and I know it’s not just a passing statement. I feel it in my bones.

He releases me, jerks his head toward Liam. “Let’s go.”

Liam stands, and suddenly, the thought of him leaving has me in a panic. As selfish as it is, I don’t want to be without him.

I shuffle toward him when he stands, and I don’t hug him like I did Logan.

I just stand there, my neck craned to look up at him.

I can’t say what I want. I don’t want to use him like this—use his touch to ease my pain.

Because as bad as it is—his touch has been the only thing that seemed to kill the darkness invading my soul.

I don’t hug him like I want to. I don’t wait for him to hug me, either.

Instead, I lay my head on his chest, feel his heartbeat beneath my cheek, and listen to his unsteady breath as it leaves him.

He cradles the back of my head, holding me in place.

Thump, thump.

“Addie,” he whispers, and I find the courage to peer up at him. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

A few days after my parents abandoned me, Roman picked me up from school and took me to the playground.

I wasn’t really into playgrounds, but I think he thought it’s what kids my age should be doing, so that’s what he wanted me to do.

On the way home, we stopped by Main St., and he bought me an ice cream.

He didn’t get one for himself. We crossed the road together, my hand in his, and we sat on the little grassy hill right next to the church while I devoured it.

When I was done, he showed me pictures of beds on his phone.

“Pick one,” he’d said. He’d been working almost non-stop at cleaning the trailer, but we still slept in the living room.

He didn’t want me going anywhere near my parents’ bedroom—the only bedroom in the trailer.

I chose the cheapest bed, and a few days later, he picked me up from school again, brought me straight home, and covered my eyes before opening the bedroom door.

I think I squealed—this childish, joyous squeal that had him chuckling.

I hadn’t slept in a bed in years. But it wasn’t just a new bed.

He’d decorated it for me. Butterfly stickers on the walls and a bright orange canopy hanging from the ceiling, flowing down and around the frame.

The bedding had an image of a sun rising or setting over the ocean, and the colors matched the canopy.

It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect. And it was mine.

When Roman tucked me into bed that night, I closed my eyes and imagined that the sun printed on the covers was real, that it covered my flesh with its warmth and cloaked me in rays made of magic.

I don’t think I’ve ever slept as peacefully as I did that night, knowing I was safe and protected.

That’s exactly how it feels to lie beside Liam while he holds me in his arms, my nose pressed to his chest.

We haven’t said a word since we got in here, but I know he’s awake. I can hear his breath catching every few minutes—as if he wants to speak, but stops himself.

I’m sure he has questions—plenty of them. But I can’t give him the answers. Yet. I want to, though. And he should know that.

I shift closer, wanting more of the way he’s making me feel. “Roman said he told you about…” I whisper, unable to finish the thought.

“Yeah, he did…” Liam whispers back. “Do you want to talk?—”

I shift closer again, cutting him off. “No.”

I don’t want to talk about it.

Not tonight.

But… maybe tomorrow.

Tonight, I just want him to hold me…

So I don’t have to talk about what it felt like—that instant fear in my chest when my eyes fluttered open to see a strange man standing over me.

Or the anger I felt when I’d see my parents standing there, watching.

He never touched me—the man—not in that way.

And he never said a word to me—not until years later.

He removed my clothes until there was nothing left of me, and then flash, flash, flash.

Polaroids. All of them. Never digital. And then he’d hand something to my parents and leave.

They never helped to re-dress me—my mom and dad.

They just scattered to the bedroom and wouldn’t reappear until the next day.

A few times, they would wake me in the middle of the night, force me to walk to the outskirts of town—to a house I now remember. There were always people there. The strange man, too. And a boy my same age.

Flash, flash, flash.

They were only ever pictures.

Never anything more.

And when it was over, I would cry… but only ever to that boy. And he would hold me, like Liam is now. “It’s okay, Addie,” he’d say.

I’d blocked it out—all the memories—but I recognize that boy’s voice now, and I wish I didn’t.

And I recognize the strange man, too. The same man who put me in handcuffs years later.

I found out later that his crimes crossed state lines, went federal, turned RICO. He was sent to a maximum security prison, but an ex-cop in a place like that… he was dead within months. When I found out, a part of me hoped that his death was slow, painful, humiliating… the same way he treated us.

I wish I’d never remembered this.

Any of it.

I wish the accident took these memories away for good.

But then my parents had to die, and I had to think about them, and it all came flooding back…

I wish I never knew they’d died. I wish the cops didn’t have to notify me. But I don’t wish they weren’t dead at all. They deserved to die. To be buried six feet under with nothing to mark their existence.

Still, if I could, I’d find their graves, bury these memories with them, so they have to live in eternal hell right next to their creator, Satan himself, and know they were nothing on this earth but the devil’s spawn.

And yet…

Somehow…

Some way…

Roman exists.

And so do I.

… and so does the boy currently stroking my hair, holding me tight while I cry into his chest. My eyes drift shut, catching beneath my closed lids.

Liam shifts closer until there’s nothing between us.

If the world ended right at this moment, he’d never know the impact he’s had on me.

He’d never know the true extent of my regrets when it comes to him.

He’d never know that his hope for me all those years ago in that nurse’s office pushed me through another day.

Another lifetime. “I think…” I whisper, fatigue sinking into my bones, like watercolor on paper—distinct at first, then spreading rapidly.

“You think what, baby?” Liam asks, but he’s distant. So far away.

My body falls into darkness. But my mind… my mind is alive enough to latch on to a single thought . I think I’m in love with you, Liam Preston. Deep, soul-crushing, heart-aching love.