My heart thumps as I stare at her. “Really?”
Her head moves up and down. “Absolutely, yes. The day you moved in here was one of the best days of my life. All I’ve wanted to do is love and protect you because I can’t...”
She can’t have kids of her own. It was what had ended her marriage a few years back and something Momma had drunkenly thrown in her face when Carley confronted her about the identity theft.
I’d hated Jenn that day.
“And you have,” I whisper, throwing my arms around her to give her a tight hug. She’s given me more love and security in a year than Jenn did my whole life.
She sniffles, and I know she’s tearing up as she hugs me back. I smile, and for the first time since I left Angelview, I feel something different within my broken soul.
Something … hopeful.
5
Two days later, I’m feeling better.
At least, a little.
That spark of hope Carley lit up inside me has been growing centimeter by centimeter, and I find myself thinking about Saint and Angelview and that photo less and less. Actually, scratch that. I still think about Saint way more than I should, but there are moments when I can focus on other things and actually function like a semi-normal human being.
Like right now.
I’m digging through the refrigerator, on the hunt for some cheese to go with the sleeve of crackers I snatched from the cupboard because I’m actually hungry. I haven’t puked since my talk with Carley, and my appetite has come roaring back to life. She was so excited that she went out and restocked the kitchen with all my favorite snacks—including the Bunny Tracks ice cream that I obsessed over all summer—just so I could eat whatever and whenever I wanted while she was working her twelve-hour shift today.
Just as my hand wraps around a block of sharp cheddar, there’s a heavy knock on the front door of the condo. Frowning, I lift my head from the fridge. I’m not expecting anyone, and Carley swore that the massive haul of boxes that UPS dropped off a few days ago were it on the Christmas front, so I know we don’t have any deliveries being dropped off. I consider not answering, thinking it’s probably just a Jehovah’s Witness or some other door-to-door annoyance that I don’t want to deal with, but a second knock sounds, more insistent than the first.
With a sigh, I shut the fridge and toss my cheese on the counter before shuffling toward the door. Smoothing my fingers through my hair, I stop at the window next to it first and peek through the gauzy curtain. My eyebrows shoot up when I spot a sleek, silver Mercedes with a rental car logo framing the plates parked in the driveway.
Who the hell does that belong to?
Now, my curiosity is demanding I open the door and see who’s on the other side. For a moment, I worry it’s Saint, but I quickly realize the extreme level of naïve stupidity behind that particular thought. After putting in so much work to get rid of me, it wouldn’t make any sense for him to show up here.
Feeling confident it’s not him, I unlatch the deadbolt and fling the door open.
When I see who’s standing on the other side of the screen door, looking totally out of place in expensive jeans and a designer t-shirt, I freeze, stunned to my core.
It’s not Saint, but it’s close.
Dark eyes stare back at me, and I swallow hard as Liam greets me with a somber nod. “Hey.”
“H-hey,” I stammer in response like an idiot.
Silence falls between us, and it’s awkward as hell. To be honest, I’m too rocked to form words, but I have so many questions rushing through my head.
The first and foremost being how the hell did he find me here?
“Can I come in?” he murmurs.
Unlocking the screen door, I hold it open and bob my head. “Come on in.”
He thanks me as he strides inside the condo. I shut the door behind him, then turn and press my back to it as I watch him gaze around, taking in the furniture and the tiny artificial Christmas tree Carley had talked me into helping her decorate the other day. What does he think of it? I doubt he’s impressed. Compared to his family’s beach home, this place is miniscule, and most of Carley’s furnishings came from discount home stores in the parts of town Angelview kids would never step foot in.
Still, it’s cozy and clean, and I love every inch of this place because it’s the first real home I’ve ever had.
On second thought, I don’t give a shit what Liam thinks about it. It’s my home, not his, and it’s not like I invited him here. Regardless, I am Southern, so I’m obligated to offer him a drink.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he shakes his head to decline. “I’m good.”
I look around—anywhere and everywhere just to avoid eye contact—because I’m unsure where to go from here. Finally, I wave my hand toward the couch in the living room. “Do you want to sit down or something?”
The nape of my neck tingles at his soft chuckle. “Or something.” But he takes a seat on the micro-suede couch, making sure to keep his ass as close to the edge as possible.
I ease down on the opposite end and clasp my hands together in my lap. My stomach is twisting into knots, and I can’t even decide if I’m happy to see him. All I know is that not only has he somehow figured out my address, he’s just as agitated as me.
The proof is in the way he’s anxiously tugging at the long sleeves of his black t-shirt to cover the tattoos on his arms even though we’re thousands of miles from where hiding them is a necessity.
“How are things?” I blurt out because I can’t take the heavy silence anymore.
His shoulders lift in a half shrug. “Fine, I guess. You?”
That’s a loaded question, but I tiptoe around it. “All right, all things considered.”
What a cringey thing to say. Why is it so fucking hard to talk to him? We used to be able to speak so easily to each other.
Having him here is forcing every thought and question I’ve been trying to suppress to the forefront of my mind. I’m desperate to know how things were after I left. Has he heard from Saint? Did they figure out how that fire started? Does he know who died because none of the articles I’ve seen have specifically mentioned names, and I’ve searched everywhere.
Maybe I should just ask him? I can’t think of any other reason why he would be here, other than to talk about Angelview, and it’s painful just sitting here, avoiding the elephant in the room.
Puffing out a deep breath, I turn toward him and demand, “What are you doing here, Liam? How did you find me?”
He runs his hands through his black hair and gives me a strained, almost apologetic smile. “I … I don’t really know. I guess I just wanted to make sure you were okay?”
“I’m fine.”
His smile takes a skeptical twist, but he nods. “I didn’t see you at all after the fire, and then you were just … gone. You weren’t answering your calls or texts, and Baby Juggernaut swore she had no idea where you were. I’m sure that was bullshit, though. You two have been joined at the hip all year.”
It’s not bullshit, and my chest gives a sharp jolt when I think of Loni. I had made a speedy exit the morning after the fire, so I didn’t say goodbye to her or Henry. Guilt slams through me, but I shove it down. Remind myself of what they must think of me now after all that went down last week.