by S. M. Soto
“No. No,” she whispers in disbelief. “It’s not true. It can’t be. Tell me it’s not true,” she pleads shakily, shifting her gaze to me, with emotion clogging her throat. Tears sting my eyes and I dart my fearful eyes to Liam. He nods his head at me, urging me to say something.
I shakily inhale a deep breath knowing what I’m about to tell her will break her. Completely.
It’s then I notice Richard, standing at the threshold of the living room, mouth agape and his skin ashen white. He looks sick, or like he’s about to be.
My heart squeezes painfully when I realize what I say next is going to ruin all of our lives. As I glance back at Richard, I see the pain brewing in his eyes, like he’s already put the pieces together.
This is going to kill them.
“It’s not true, mom,” I say, my voice trembling and thick with emotion. Liam swings his furious gaze toward me, but I hold up my hand, urging him to keep quiet. “Connor never snuck into my room at night. He never climbed in my bed and forced himself on me. He never held a knife to my throat and told me he would kill me and you if I ever said anything. He never made me bleed in places I shouldn’t bleed. So, no mom, Connor never raped me. He never made me want to take my own life. He never did a damn thing.”
Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes and my chest heaves, trying to accommodate my breaths. An ugly wail erupts from her lips and she crumples onto the floor in a broken pile of sobs. Her cries wrack her small body and I have to look away from her breakdown. Seeing her in so much pain is too much for me to handle.
“No!” she cries out in pain, and I suck in the sob begging to tear through my chest. Tilting my face heavenward, I lose the battle against my emotions, and the tears stream down my face.
Thick arms wrap around my midsection, pulling me against their body, and I go willingly. I close my eyes and inhale Liam’s scent. He holds me tightly, almost like he’s too afraid to let go, and my hands grip onto him, afraid of losing his warmth—losing his love.
Chaos suddenly ensues when Richard steps out from the hallway, demanding that we explain, all the while trying to console my mother. She charges him, banging her fists on his chest repeatedly, yelling at him for the sins of his son.
I bury my head in Liam’s chest and stay there, even when I hear the sound of Connor’s voice, even when the police show up and demand to know what’s going on before taking statements. It’s chaos in its purest form. It’s everything I worked so hard to avoid—everything I was afraid of.
As if sensing I’m on the verge of hysteria, Liam holds me while I fall apart, and at some point, he carries me into my bedroom and lays with me until I fall asleep.
When I come to, I have a pounding headache, and my eyes feel swollen. So, swollen, I have to use all my strength to peel them open. I roll onto my side, coming face to face with Liam, who’s staring at me with a look I can’t decipher.
“You slept a while.” His deep voice echoes around the silence of my room. He continues staring down at me with so much intensity in those iridescent eyes. I don’t say anything. Too afraid that this quiet moment will dissolve into chaos. Much like it did earlier.
I’m not sure what happened earlier. One minute my mother was in hysterics and the next, she was charging Richard, hitting him with all her might. I remember hearing them argue and then the sound of Connor’s voice. There was shouting and then the sound of glass breaking. The police. Then questions. So many questions. Then, silence. That was all I remember before sleep pulled me under.
“What happened?” I finally ask. My voice sounding like sandpaper.
Liam blows out a gruff breath and chews on his bottom lip for a beat before answering. “Your mother confronted Connor. Richard tried to stand up for his son, but once I explained your story, he knew it was the truth.”
With his hand, he gently runs it through my tangled hair, patiently combing out all of the knots.
“He’s gone, Bea. Your mother made them leave.”
I close my eyes at his words. My body sagging against the bed in relief.
“You won’t ever have to see him again, angel.”
Like a million-pound weight being lifted off my chest I suck in a sharp breath, fighting back tears.
“What happens now?” I croak as the tears sting the backs of my eyes.
“Whatever you want to do,” he says simply. “You can press charges. You can talk to a professional, someone that can help you sort through what happened. Whatever you want, sweet Bea, and we’ll take it one step at a time.”
Turning my head into his chest, I soak his t-shirt with my tears, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He just wraps his arms around me tighter, whispering that he loves me, and that I’ll make it.
When my tears finally subside, Liam helps me out of bed, and makes me a sandwich. I decline at first, unable to stomach the thought of food, but the helpless look in his eyes changes my mind.
“You don’t have to stay and baby me. I know you have a life, Liam. I understand if you want to get back to it,” I say as I finish only half of my sandwich. Liam drops the jar of mayonnaise down on the counter with a loud thud. He turns to me with creased brows and a grim expression on his face. I close my eyes, preparing myself for the worst.
“I do have a life, Bea. You know what else? I also have a girl that I love more than life itself.”
My eyes spring open at his words.
He rounds the counter, settling beside me, leaning into my personal space. “Sweet Bea, don’t you get it? You are my life. You’re my everything. I have nothing to get back to because all I need is sitting right here.”
Tears drip down my cheeks and I hiccup a sob. “How can you mean that? After everything…you know every dirty—”
He cuts me off, pulling my face into his calloused hands. Bringing my face close to his he leans his forehead against my mine.
“It doesn’t change anything, angel. None of it does. Bea Norwood, I love you so much it hurts,” he says with so much conviction in his voice, the only option I’m left with is to believe him.
“What about baseball?”
“I have five weeks before spring training starts, in the meantime, we’re going to enjoy our time together and figure it out when we get there. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
Liam softly places his lips over mine, kissing me until I’m breathless. He traces the seam of my mouth with his tongue, and I clutch his body to me, not wanting anymore distance between us. When we pull away our chests are heaving, and our lips are swollen. The image makes me smile.
“All this time…why didn’t you tell me about baseball? About finally making it?”
Liam blows out a sharp breath and lifts his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t really know. I was just supposed to stay for a month and visit Myrah, but then…then you happened, and I didn’t want to leave. At first, I thought you already knew, but the more time I spent with you…I realized you didn’t know a thing about the new Liam. Things started to feel like old times. Like it did years ago, and I didn’t want to ruin it by telling you I would be leaving soon. Saying it out loud, it made it real, so I kept it to myself.”
“Oh, Liam.” I rest my palm along his cheek, relishing in the feel of his stubble against my skin. “I’m so damn proud of you, Liam Falcon. Your future was always written in the stars. I always knew you’d make it big someday.”
His face softens. He grips my hand that’s resting on his cheek and brings it to his lips, kissing softly.
“I love you, Bea Norwood,” Liam says as he stares down at me intently. Almost like he’s trying to drill his proclamation into my head.
“I love you, too.” I say, swiping away a tear.
The sound of a throat clearing behind me has me whirling toward the source. When my gaze falls on my mother, my heart splits in half and an icy sensation drizzles down my chest, making it hard to breathe. My mother has made it her life’s mission to stay youthful and take every care necessary to
keep her appearance nothing shy of beautiful and put together. But right now? I’ve never seen her look like this. So haggard and broken down. There are bags under her eyes from crying for hours upon hours and the fine lines on her face suddenly seem deeper than I remember.
I hate seeing her like this. This was what I wanted to avoid.
“I have some things I need to…that need to be handled. I…I shouldn’t be gone too long, but if you need me—or if you don’t want to stay, we can…” my mom trails off, looking unsure of herself. This well put together woman can’t even string a simple sentence together and it’s breaking my heart to watch. I open my mouth to say something, anything to help lessen her guilt, but no words come.
Suddenly she crosses the room and pulls me into her arms, pressing her lips to my forehead. “I love you, sweet girl,” she whispers thickly. Her voice tinged with emotion. Unable to hold them back, tears slide down my cheeks in a never-ending stream. When I open my eyes and glance over her shoulder, I see Liam watching us—watching me—with a protective gleam in his eyes. It warms my heart.
After pulling herself together, my mother wipes under her eyes and gives me a smile that’s forced. She’s trying to pretend everything is okay, but it’s not. Chances are, it’ll never be. She leaves just as quietly as she came, and Liam pulls me back into his arms where I go willingly.
It’s been almost two weeks since the truth came out, and things have changed drastically in that time span. I’ve felt lighter and less burdened, no longer weighted down by the dark secret of what Connor has done to me over the years. I was finally able to breathe without worrying about his next move.
My mom and Myrah have helped me file an official police report. I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it, the risk of a trial, but the thought of Connor ever having the chance to do this to another girl was out of the question. I knew I needed to do the right thing. Even if it did tear me up inside.
Liam hasn’t left my side not once through any of this. He’s in tune to my almost every need. Sometimes, when he’s not paying attention, I stare. I still can’t believe he’s here, with me, despite everything he knows. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, and almost like he can read my insecurities, he showers me with reassurances and affection.
Currently, he’s back in San Francisco taking care of stuff for the next baseball season. He’s supposed to be home early tomorrow morning and take me to breakfast before class. Before they left, his best friend Emery pulled me into her arms, and reminded me I was a survivor. With tears in her eyes, she told me she looked forward to getting to know more about me. Not just as the woman in Liam’s life, but as a friend, too.
My mom contacted a realtor early yesterday morning. It was a tough decision for her but ultimately, she didn’t want to live in the house that held nothing but bad memories for me. She wanted us to start fresh. I believe it was also for purely selfish reasons, too. She, out of everyone, was taking it the worst. I think she blames herself in a way for not knowing, and not paying attention to the signs. Her guilt stems from traveling with Richard for all those years and leaving me behind with Connor.
In a way, I’ll be glad when this house is sold, but on the other hand I’ll miss living next door to Myrah. We grew up as neighbors. She’s my best friend and my sister. It’s a bond that refuses to be broken.
There will always be those horrible memories lurking every time I look at the house, but I also want to remind myself to remember all the good there too. Like the first time me and my mother stepped foot inside. The first sleepover I had there with Myrah. And I’ll never forget the galaxy of stars painted across my ceiling by the boy next door that became the man who saved my life.
“You sure you don’t want to move in with me?” Myrah asks for the fifth time as we walk out the front door. I chuckle and shake my head as we cross our lawns into my yard.
“As much as I’d love that, I think moving is best. Sometimes, when I look at the house, I see him and all those things he did to me. I just want a clean slate.”
She nods her head, seemingly agreeing with me.
“And your mom?”
“She’s hurting. She loves Richard, so I know she’s breaking her heart trying to decide if divorce is on the table. She’s been staying at a hotel. She doesn’t want to be in the house at all.”
“You’re alone?” she asks warily, her brows dipping into a frown. “Why don’t you stay with me and Liam for a few days? He’ll be back tomorrow, the two of you can share the guest bedroom.” I almost cave at the hopeful look in her eye, but I know deep down, I’m not ready for that. It would be so easy to lean on Liam like a crutch, but I refuse to do that. I still need time to process everything and heal on my own.
“It’s tempting, but I think some alone time will do me some good. I still have a few boxes I need to pack up anyway.”
Her face creases with worry. “I don’t want you there alone, Bea.”
“I’m fine, Myrah, I promise. I’m just right next door anyway. If I can’t handle being in that house alone, I’ll come over. I swear.”
She opens her mouth to say something more, but I cut her off.
“So, how is he?” I wring my hands together nervously.
“He’s…god, Bea. He’s a fucking mess. We all are. I think he’s angry with himself.”
I close my eyes against the stinging, pushing back the tears. I had a small feeling one of the reasons why Liam left back to San Francisco for a few days was to give himself time to process everything without having to stare it in the face every day. I can’t blame him. I just wish I could somehow make things better for him. I don’t want him carrying guilt that isn’t his to bear. The only person who should be feeling guilt or remorse is Connor, and that’s not ever going to happen.
“I didn’t want any of this to happen, Myrah. I never wanted him, of all people to find out, and now, he’s seen it all. He’s seen every filthy thing Connor’s done and…God, he’s probably so disgusted.”
“Stop!” Myrah hisses suddenly, her voice clogged with tears. “He is not disgusted with you, Bea. That man loves you. He’s so angry at Connor for doing this to you. He’s angry with himself for leaving you here with him and not realizing it sooner. He’s hurt that you had to endure all of it on your own for years.”
I swallow down the tears and nod my head, knowing she’s right. I hated that Connor stole almost seven years of my life. Years that I could’ve spent with Liam and my best friend. But now, with Liam back in my life, I can only be thankful, because in a way, he saved me. Fate did me one solid and intervened for us.
That night I crawl in bed and shed a few tears for Myrah, for Liam, and my mother. I hate that they’re in pain because of me. Because of Connor. I fall sleep, with a twisted heart and heavy mind.
Whenever I close my eyes, Connor’s beady brown eyes taunt me and threaten me. It’s a nightmare I can never wake up from. The fear of him coming back nags at the back of my mind, always haunting me in my most vulnerable moments. My psyche even understood the threat of Connor and his need to strike.
Hours later, I wake with a start. My body flings upright and my eyes dart around the near empty room frantically. My nightmare clings to my sweat slicked skin, still fresh as ever in my mind. I run a trembling hand through my hair and shift my gaze toward the bedroom door. My heart stops when they fall on him.
“No,” I whisper and my stomach drops. Fear seeps out of my pores, clogging my airways. I blink furiously, trying to make him disappear, thinking this is just a dream. Another nightmare. But it’s not. It’s real.
Tears spring to my eyes at that realization.
“I told you what would happen, Bea. Didn’t I? Did you really think I’d let you walk out of this alive and tarnish my reputation further? I was kicked off the board, out of the firm, my father is cutting me out of the trust fund. I’m going to be hauled off to fucking prison for this shit. All because you couldn’t keep your goddamn mouth shut.”
I clench my eye
s shut, praying it’s a dream, willing this nightmare that is my life to end.
Within seconds Connor’s across the room, his hand wrapped tightly around my throat, sucking all the air from my lungs. I squirm and fight against his hold, but his grip is so tight and unyielding, I can feel it crushing my windpipe. Any harder and he’ll snap my neck. Shadows dance across his bruised face, the orange gleam from the streetlights seep in through my blinds, highlighting him and all his evil glory. The damage from Liam’s blows to his face still haven’t properly healed, and the vile look on his face is still there, as potent as ever.
I flail my legs in panic until one of my knees connects with him and his grip loosens. I roll away, fighting to untangle myself from the sheets, but he yanks me back by my ankle. His grip is unforgiving, so much so, I scream as white-hot pain tears through my ankle, shooting through my leg.
“Help!” I cry out as loud as I can, my voice hoarse and scratchy from his unforgiving grip. Connor flips me onto my back and slams his fist into my face repeatedly. Pain explodes in my nose and erupts across my cheekbones. It feels like my face is being bashed in with a rock. My ears start to ring, the sound getting louder and louder, until it’s deafening.
After one last attempt, I manage to strike him in his groin with the heel of my foot. With a wounded grunt, he lets go and I manage to crawl off the bed, scrambling toward the bedroom door trying to escape. Something heavy is slammed down onto my back, knocking me to the floor.
I gasp for air as the breath is knocked out of me. Pain like no other tears across my back making me scream. Whatever object he’s using feels heavy, like a bat or a crow bar. Pain shoots through my skull with his unforgiving grip in my hair as he tosses me on my back like a rag doll. I can barely manage to keep my eyes open against the pain, let alone fight him off. Connor’s hands wrap around my throat again and this time I see the look of resolve in his eyes.
