Wounded

by Abby Brooks

  “Really?” I roll my eyes and ignore his underwear comment. “I just think it’ll draw more attention to me. I mean, people are already talking about it. The moment I left the bar, the secret was out. And sure, Brent says he’s on it, but that Derrick guy? He’s already contacted my lawyers. I feel like I’m living on borrowed time here and a concert will only make it worse.”

  “It’ll definitely draw more attention to you. Especially if you do it in your underwear.” Michael reaches for his beer, takes a drink, and then holds up the empty bottle. “Of course, I’m on my way to drunk, so take everything I say with a grain of salt.”

  Trying not to make it obvious, I count the empties he’s got lined up on the step. Five beers before noon and he’s just now on his way to drunk. I’ve done my fair share of day-drinking, but Michael takes it to a whole new level. At first, I ignored it. Then, as I got to know him, I tried to tease him about it. And now, I get this sinking feeling in my stomach watching him get behind the wheel of his truck at the end of each day. I’ve tried to get him to stay for dinner, get some food and coffee into him before he takes off, but he’s adamant about leaving before Bailey gets home.

  Today, he’s drinking even more than usual. As the hours stretch on and the line of bottles on the step grows, dread takes a firm hold of my insides. There’s no way I can let him get behind the wheel today. No fucking way.

  “Hey. You wanna get some pizza tonight?” I ask. “My treat.”

  Michael lets his gaze drift off towards the line of trees in the back. “Nah. I’ll probably be going soon.” His words are slurred, just ever so slightly, but that’s enough for me. I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off yet because he’s got the same stubborn streak I fight in Bailey all the time, but Michael is not getting behind the wheel of a car tonight.

  “Come on, man. We’ll get shitfaced and play cards or something.” I grab the shovel from where it’s leaning against the house and scoop some leveling sand out of the wheelbarrow.

  Michael shakes his head and runs a hand over the back of his neck but doesn’t say anything.

  “Is that a yes?”

  He holds up a finger. “That’s a maybe.”

  “Aww. Come on. You know that’s a yes.” I stand, propping myself up with the handle of the shovel. “I can get Bailey to ask Lexi and that Michelle girl to come over. Maybe we can get them drunk enough to start up a game of strip poker.”

  Michael screws up his face. “Dude. That’s my sister.”

  “Right.” I bob my head. “So maybe just regular poker.”

  Michael hesitates.

  “How can you even consider turning that down? Do you know how many people would actually pay to eat pizza and play cards with me?” I run a hand through my hair and laugh. “Shit. For that matter, do you know how many people have paid to eat pizza and play cards with me?” I give him a look to let him know I’m trying to be funny.

  He turns to me, his eyes distant. “I don’t really like being here. And Bailey…” He trails off, frowning. “There’s just a lot of history here.”

  I know better than to ask for more details, but fuck, am I ever tired of the Schultz siblings dropping hints about their troubled past that they then expect me to ignore. “But you’ll stay.” I nod as if it’s a done deal.

  “Dude. You’re stubborn enough to be a Schultz.”

  “Nah. But you Schultz’s are almost stubborn enough to be a McGuire.”

  I shoot a text to Bailey, explaining what’s going on and asking her to see if the girls want to come over tonight. Her response is almost instant.

  Bailey: You got him to stay?

  Me: Yep. He was no match to my battle-hardened charm.

  Bailey: Get over yourself, McGuire. You’re not that charming.

  Me: You can pretend to fight it all you want, but you know I’m charming as hell. I smile at my phone, imagining the way she’s bound to be shaking her head and smiling at my not-so-humble self right now.

  Bailey: So … pizza, poker, more beer, and then get him to sleep it off on the couch?

  I smile, pleased that she knew exactly what was in my head without me having to say anything.

  Me: That’s the plan.

  There’s a long pause and I assume she got called away by a patient or doctor needing her to assist in the many medical miracles that make up her every day. Just as I slide my phone into my back pocket, it buzzes again and I pull it out without hesitation.

  Bailey: Thank you. I worry about him.

  Me: I know. Now you get back to work saving lives and I’ll go back to being my amazing self over here with your brother.

  By the time Bailey gets home, Michael and I are showered, shaved, and looking good. I tried to get him to slow down on the beer and succeeded enough to ensure that he’s still on his feet and holding coherent conversations. I’ll take it as a win even though I would have preferred he switch to water a few hours ago. I know why people drink as much as he does. He’s hiding from something that hurts. Bad. When Bailey’s truck rumbles up the driveway, gravel popping and crunching under the tires, Michael frowns.

  “Wow. It’s like time stands still in this place.” He sighs, drawing his dark eyebrows together. “Do you know how many years I’ve heard that same truck coming up that same driveway sounding exactly like that?” Michael shudders and shakes his head.

  Bailey fumbles with the door and pushes through, the rustle of plastic bags and rattling keys coming right in with her. “Oh, goodness no,” she says, struggling with the door. “Don’t you two bother yourselves to get up. I got this.”

  I leap up off the couch and take the pizza out of her hands while Michael settles into the couch, crossing his legs. “Dude,” he says, looking at me like I’m the jerk. “She said she had it.”

  The urge to take her into my arms and kiss her until she can’t breathe is so strong I can’t think through it, but since we both have our hands full and her brother is here, I settle for blowing her a kiss when he’s not looking.

  “Sure,” I say to Michael on my way to the kitchen. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be a decent human being and help out anyway.”

  “You just like making me look bad,” grumbles Michael.

  “Of course I do,” I say over my shoulder. “But you don’t have to make it so easy for me.”

  As soon as we’re out of the living room, I drop the pizza on the counter and pull Bailey in for a kiss. “I missed you,” I whisper when I’m done.

  Her features soften and she smiles but she looks away from me, trying to hide whatever it is she’s really feeling. “I bet you did,” she says, finally meeting my eyes.

  “I hear you in there,” Michael calls from the living room. “You guys are terrible at keeping this thing a secret.”

  I swoop Bailey into my arms and carry her out of the kitchen while she squeals and laughs. “Who says we want to keep it a secret?” I kiss her deeply, loving the way her body feels in my arms.

  “Dude. Whatever.” Michael laughs nervously, his smile tense and small until he meets Bailey’s eyes. Then his whole face warms. “As long as you’re happy, I don’t care what you do, I guess. Although maybe it was better when you were doing it in the kitchen.”

  Lexi shows up with Michelle and the night disappears in a series of too many drinks and lots of laughter. I swear there’s something in the way Michael looks at Lexi, the way his eyes linger on her face when he thinks she’s not looking.

  “Do you see that?” I ask Bailey while I’m helping her refill everyone’s drinks.

  “See what?” Bailey leans into me, a little too drunk to be pouring herself another.

  “The way Michael looks at Lexi.”

  She glances up, surprise dancing across her face. “You see it too? I thought I was imagining it. Wishful thinking and all that.” She lowers her voice to a loud whisper. “Could you imagine if they got together? Every weekend could be like this. All of us hanging out here, bringing life back to this old house. Lexi could be so
good for him.” She sighs, her eyes unfocused and filled with daydreams. “Thank you for getting him to stay,” she says after a bit.

  “I couldn’t let him leave. He had a lot to drink today,” I say, hoping she doesn’t see the way her words affected me. Every weekend? If Brent can’t get things under control, I might not have many weekends here left. But she looks so happy, I can’t bring any of that up now.

  Bailey waves her hand and shakes her head, dismissing the reason I asked Michael to stay. “Whatever your motive, thank you. He’s here. He’s safe.” She shrugs. “I know it’s only one night, but I feel like I’m on the way to getting my brother back. It means a lot.”

  Laughter explodes from the living room. “You guys can stop making out in the kitchen and bring us our drinks already,” calls Lexi.

  “Damn it, McGuire!” Michael laughs while Michelle giggles. “Keep your damn hands off my sister!”

  Bailey smiles at me, looking happier than she has in the month I’ve been here, and gathers the drinks onto a tray. “Thank you,” she mouths.

  I slap her on the ass as she heads to the living room. “I’m sure you’ll think of some way to repay me,” I say, dropping her a wink as she bites her lip and smiles over her shoulder.

  BAILEY

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” My hands shake as I try to apply another coat of mascara.

  “Talked you into this?” Liam takes the applicator from my hand. “I feel like I was adamantly against the whole idea. Hell, I might still be adamantly against the whole idea. Remind me again how we decided a concert in front of the whole town is supposed to create less exposure for me?”

  I don’t have the ability to fight him on this right now. Never, ever in my whole life have I been this nervous. “I’ve never sung in front of people before. This whole audience deal? It’s bad news.” I try not to blink as Liam expertly applies the last coat of mascara for me. “Do I even want to know how you know how to do that?” I ask, waving towards the brush.

  “Show business, hot lips,” he says as if that explains everything and then screws the applicator back into the tube. “Here’s the thing, your body reacts to anxiety and excitement the exact same way. Instead of focusing on the fear, the negative stuff, focus on how exciting it’s going to be to sing with me.” He puts a hand on my back. I’m sure it’s supposed to be reassuring, but he’s so warm and I’m already sweating. It feels like he’s scorching his handprint onto my skin.

  “There’s nothing exciting about this.” I look up at him, eyes wide. “You’re right. It’s all a terrible idea. We should cancel and you should call Brent and make all of this go away.”

  Liam laughs and studies his face in the mirror they set up especially for us in the cramped manager’s office at Smitty’s. “You want to know what’s worse than trying to talk fans into keeping a secret? Trying to keep fans from getting really mad when you promise them a secret concert of exclusive songs and then pull a no-show.”

  I suck in my lips. “I really don’t think I can do this.” My dinner is tap dancing in my stomach right now. “I have to pee again. What if I pee my pants while we’re singing?”

  “You can try to go again if you want, but if you already went you can chalk that feeling up to nerves. I promise you aren’t going to pee while we’re singing.”

  “But how can you know that?”

  “Trust me, Bailey. I might not know much about building a patio, but when it comes to pre-performance jitters, some might consider me an expert.” Liam straightens and pulls me into his arms. “You can do this. I have total faith in you.”

  “What if it’s a bad idea? What if I was totally wrong and instead of calming everyone down about you being in Brookside, it just revs everyone up? What if it turns into paparazzi central out here like it did when you were in the hospital?” My voice rises in pitch while I speak until it’s practically inaudible.

  “We’re a little late to be worrying about that now.” He brushes my hair back off my face. “Besides. As much as I fought the idea at first, I really think you’re right. Something personal like this, something so different from what people are used to from me…” He nods. “This will help make me more real. Less of a personality, a cardboard cutout, and more of a person. It could go a long way towards making people more accepting of me staying here in Brookside.”

  “Normally, I’d have a slew of questions about the whole ‘you staying in Brookside’ deal, but I can’t think straight enough to ask them right now.” I bite my bottom lip and stare at the door, wondering how many people are on the other side.

  Liam puts a finger to my chin and pulls my lip out from between my teeth. “You’ll ruin your lipstick,” he says. “Now, look at me. Right into my eyes and don’t look away.” He waits for me to do as he said. “You’ve so got this. Not just in a little way, but in a great big, no doubt about it kind of way. You’re more than capable of standing out there and singing with me.”

  “Not like this—”

  Liam puts a finger to my lips, careful not to touch my lipstick, and shushes me. “Yes. Like this. It’s just the one song. And it’s your song. You wrote it. I just embellished it. Five minutes, max. And then you’re done. All you have to do is stand up there and look me in the eyes. It’s me and you and that’s it.”

  “And all the rest of Brookside.” My gaze darts to the door again. “Listening to a song I never intended anyone to hear.”

  “Just me and you. No one else.” Liam kisses me on the forehead just as applause breaks out on the other side of the door. “That’s our cue, hot lips.”

  Without waiting for me to say anything, Liam leads me out into the bar while people clap and scream his name. Amidst the ruckus, I catch sight of my brother sitting next to Lexi and Michelle. He cups his hands around his mouth and bellows my name loud enough to overwhelm the rest of the voices screaming and calling out. The people around him turn and stare and he gives them his best shit-eating grin.

  “I’m so glad you guys could join us tonight.” Liam smiles out over the crowd and somewhere in the back, a woman shrieks his name. He laughs, totally at ease, and lifts a hand. “The music you’re gonna hear tonight is all brand new stuff. Stuff I wrote. Stuff you’re probably not used to hearing from me but I hope you’ll like it all the same.”

  He takes a seat behind the piano Smitty’s brought in just for this occasion and gestures for me to join him. The audience goes quiet and my hands shake as I hold them over the keys. Liam leans into me, bumping his shoulder against mine, and then plays the first notes.

  I close my eyes, trying to find the music inside me. My poor, shaking fingers miss a few chords. The ugly notes rake across my skin and set my nerves on fire. Liam leans into me again and I open my eyes, look up at him, and the rest of the world fades away. He sings, his words just for me, a smile lighting his face. Chills run across my spine, goose bumps traveling out across my skin, an earthquake of emotion racing through my body, and shifting the bits and pieces that make me who I am.

  My voice joins his, tentative at first, and then when his eyes soften and fill with love, I find the strength to let go and really sing. My body sways with the music, my heart and soul pouring out through the sound and filling the room with all my triumphs and all my sorrows. It’s an admission of all that I am, all that I’ve been through, and all that I’ll ever be.

  Tears prick at my eyes and I don’t know why, other than the fact that I am happy. Alive for the first time. I’ve found a part of myself I didn’t know existed, sitting at this piano, with this man, baring my soul for a room filled with strangers. I brush my fingers against his and he melts into me, our bodies swaying together, our voices sweeping through the bar, twining into something so beautiful and harmonious that I can’t imagine being the person I was before this moment ever again.

  It’s now, sitting at a piano, singing and playing and fighting tears, that I realize I’m falling in love with Liam. That I never want him to leave. That I’m better when I
’m with him. That after all these years of struggling, I feel whole again.

  The song ends and I sit in stunned silence, listening to the nothing that fills the bar. No applause. No cheers. Just me staring at Liam and Liam staring at me, and a bar full of people staring at us in turn. I swallow, afraid to turn and find them all sneering and laughing.

  And then the applause starts.

  “Bay. Look at them,” Liam whispers.

  I shake my head. “I can’t.”

  “You have to.”

  And so I do.

  The entire bar is on their feet, cheering and clapping, some wiping tears from their eyes with balled up napkins pulled from under their drinks. Liam helps me stand and I take an awkward bow before stumbling off the makeshift stage and collapsing in a breathless heap in a chair next to Lexi.

  “I didn’t know you could do that,” she says to me, eyes wide and filled with wonder.

  “Neither did I. Now excuse me a minute while I pass out.”

  Michael leans around Lexi and smiles, his face awestruck and filled with so much pride that I might burst. “That was fucking amazing, Bay.” He puts a hand on my knee and gives it a squeeze.

  I smile too, feeling it take root somewhere deep inside me and then grow and swell and fill me up with something that can only be joy. “Thanks.” I swallow hard. “Now, I’m going to go get a drink before my heart explodes. It’s pounding so hard I’m surprised you guys can’t hear it.”

  The rest of the night passes with Liam holding the audience in the palm of his hand. The songs he sings are nothing at all like the ones on the radio. Where those are hollow, empty things designed to showcase his sex appeal, these are filled with all the million little things that make him who he is. And in that honesty, that reality, he’s a thousand times more appealing than he ever has been. When I look around at the faces staring up at him, rapt, I see tiny echoes of all the things I feel. Tonight, these people get a peek at the real Liam McGuire, just a tiny little preview of the man behind the name, and they love him as much as I do. If ever he wondered what might happen if he dropped the pop star act and wanted to pursue his music without all the trappings of his stylists and PR teams, the answer is apparent in the people here tonight.