Beastly Lights

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Beastly Lights Page 41

by Theresa Jane


  “Liam, I think-”

  “I’ll see you tonight, Frey," he promised, taking both of my hands and kissing them gently. Then he swiftly got to his feet and skipped down the stairs.

  “Liam,” I called out in annoyance, but he was already in the car, and Daryl had already climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Great,” I grumbled, kicking a loose rock on one of the steps as I watched the car drive away. “What just happened here?”

  Chapter 43: On the Eve

  “You can’t be serious, Freya,“ Mason yelled as I paced anxiously by the window of his apartment. I had been doing this for the past hour now. I was ready and dressed for Liam’s event. My hair was pinned back tightly and my feet stuffed into heels so high I was afraid I might get altitude sickness.

  Ryan had arrived not long after Liam had left with supplies and a disapproving look. He didn’t offer any advice. For once, he was simply silent. However, his message was clear, and I had ignored it.

  The dress he had chosen was stunning. A deep blue that gathered loosely around my neck at the front before dropping down to my lower back, exposing a tasteful amount of skin. It hit my ankles in waves, almost covering the sparkling silver shoes on my feet. I felt like a princess. Unfortunately, my prince was running out of time to prove himself.

  “After everything that has happened, you’re still going to this party with that playboy,” Mason scowled, and I didn’t miss the way his hand shook at his side or his bloodshot eyes.

  Our father sat by the kitchen bench, observing the argument but seemingly uncertain of what his role should be in it.

  When I had come up after Liam had left, he was there ready to lecture me, but I had ignored his every word and his every suggestion, Eventually, I grew frustrated with his commentary on my life and snapped at him to butt out.

  After that, he was silent for the rest of the afternoon as I prepared for the Christmas Eve launch for the US leg of Liam’s tour.

  “Mason, please,” I sighed, wringing my hands while my shoes clicked loudly over the wooden floors. “I have made my decision.”

  “Well, it’s the wrong one, he doesn’t deserve this chance. He isn’t good for you. Why are you opening yourself up for him to hurt you again?” he demanded.

  “How many chances have you had, Mason?” I shot back challengingly. Who was he to question who I gave second chances to? He’d had enough in his lifetime.

  “That’s different,” Mason grumbled in reply, but I ignored him, looking back out the window again. It was almost eight; Daryl would be here soon, and at this point, I would take any excuse to get out of my brother’s apartment.

  “Mason, leave it," my father finally spoke. “She has already made her own mind up; we won’t be able to change it.”

  “But she’s making a mistake. Don’t you see that?” Mason protested, gesturing his arms wildly. “He’s the reason that man attacked her last night. He’s the reason she has been stalked and harassed these past months. We shouldn’t allow her to do this!”

  “Allow me?”

  “Frey, your brother didn’t mean that,” my father sighed.

  "Oh yes he did." I shot back before I rounded on Mason. “What gives you the right to make decisions on my life? I have the right to give whoever I want as many chances as I see fit. Lord knows I’ve given you enough.” I knew it was a low blow, but he had pushed me and I had risen to the occasion.

  Silence quickly engulfed the three of us, but I felt no remorse for the words I had spoken. All I felt was anger and frustration. Mason seemed to be rendered speechless by my attack and in my state, I saw no need to spare his feelings.

  “Frey,” my father began, but at that moment a black sedan pulled up to the curb, and I cut him off.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I muttered, grabbing my clutch and marching for the front door. “Neither of you has the right to tell me I’m living my life wrong. So why don’t you for once, keep your opinions to yourself.”

  Without a backward glance, I left the uncomfortably silent apartment and stomped down the stairs. I met Daryl at the entrance to the building.

  “Miss Freya?”

  “Let’s get out of here, Daryl,” I greeted flatly.

  “Of course, Miss Freya,” Daryl nodded, holding the door of the building open for me as I passed through. I stormed all the way to the car, not waiting for Daryl to open the door for me before I slumped inside.

  Daryl, regaining his composure quickly, moved around to the driver’s side. I didn’t miss the concerned looks he was shooting me through the rearview mirror. I just chose to ignore them as I let my anger fester inside of me.

  “Miss Freya, is something amiss?” Daryl finally asked as we trudged slowly through the New York traffic.

  “It’s nothing, Daryl,” I sighed, looking out the window at the lights in the trees that lined the streets. New York always seemed so magical at this time of year. “I’m sorry I’ve been so moody.”

  “Are you sure you want me to take you to Mr. Henderson’s event tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Should I take you back?” He offered, pulling to a stop at a red traffic light. Then, he turned in his seat to face me with a sympathetic look on his face.

  “No,” I sighed, defeated by the emotions swirling inside of me. I felt like I was split down the middle. My mind was waging a war that had no end because as much as I wanted to stay away, I also wanted to be near him. My heart seemed determined that no matter how many bridges Liam burned that it would simply swim to reach him.

  “Miss Freya," Daryl started, pulling me from my tug of war within my thoughts. “If I may be so bold, I have never seen Mr. Henderson as distressed as he was this morning.”

  “Daryl-”

  “He does regret it, Miss Freya.”

  “He should,” I grumbled. “However, if he truly cared, he would have been there when I needed him. Rather than upstairs, indulging in his favorite vice.”

  Daryl was silent then, focusing instead on the Christmas Eve traffic. My mind was racing so fast I barely noticed the rest of the trip until the car pulled to a stop outside an elegant building. It was decked out in Christmas decorations, so it glowed more brightly than the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center.

  Daryl efficiently moved to my door and pulled it open as I took a deep calming breath, all too aware of the crowd that had gathered outside in the hopes of seeing someone famous. The cameras flashed and voices crowded the night as I stepped out of the car, and they didn’t stop until Daryl had deposited me safely inside the foyer of the hotel.

  Ornate tables and elegant furniture filled the lobby. A large pine Christmas tree was consuming the room with the familiar Christmasy scent.

  Yet, my heart was anything but cheerful. I felt light headed as my heart raced at an uncomfortable rate. My fingertips felt numb and my limbs stiff as Daryl led me across the empty foyer before he came to a stop in front of two large wooden doors. They were tall and imposing, trimmed with gold and silver. Holly and lights arched above them in an elegant display of yuletide cheer.

  “Ready, Miss Freya?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted anxiously, wringing my clammy hands tightly in front of me.

  Was I ready to face a room filled with people who revered Liam? Who all wanted a piece of the man I loved, because I did love him. I just didn’t know how to reconcile the man I thought I loved with the man who could be as reckless and uncaring as the one last night.

  I wanted nothing more than to lock myself away with him and shut the rest of the world out. Then I would know he was all mine, but then would he be that same man that I had fallen in love with? I didn’t know, and I guess that was my greatest dilemma. I didn’t know where we could go from here. I didn’t know if what we had was worth saving.

  “Miss?” Daryl prompted again, drawing me back from my confusing thoughts.

  “I’ll be fine, Daryl,” I tried to smile, but the sa
d look on his face only confirmed my lack of acting skills.

  “Be patient, Miss Freya,” he spoke softly. “He is more than the man you saw last night. You have made him more than that man."

  I could only nod in response, his words only serving to send my mind into further turmoil. How was I ever to make a decision when my heart and my mind were constantly at war with one another?

  However, I had to put my inner struggles aside when Daryl opened the door of the room for me to enter.

  Immediately, I was hit with a wall of thumping music I instantly recognized as one of Liam’s songs. It was the one he had written the first time he had flown.

  Instantly, my heart swelled hearing his hypnotizing voice. It wasn’t as powerful as when he sang it live, but it was still enough to send my heart into a tizzy.

  “Good luck,” Daryl said before I took a shaky step into the room. It was filled with women in elegant dresses and men in debonair suits. They were all moving gracefully from one group to another. Each person had a smile on their faces and a drink in their hand. However, I was in search of only one familiar face.

  This room was also decked out in traditional Christmas decorations, with holly hung from the roof and lights strung in between. It was breathtaking and intimidating all at once.

  I glanced around in search of my rock star, but he seemed to be lost in the crowd of high-profile guests who had turned out to celebrate the launch of his tour.

  “Champagne?” I started at the sudden appearance of a server beside me before I shook my head absently and moved farther into the room.

  “You came,” I spun at the sound of his surprised voice and nearly toppled in the heels Ryan had stuffed my feet in. Liam’s arm smoothly wrapped around my waist and pressed me closely to his side. Despite everything, my heart still skipped a beat, and my breath still caught being so near to him.

  “You didn’t give me much of a choice,” I answered softly, my eyes getting lost in his before another thought could cross my mind.

  “You look beautiful, Frey,” he murmured against the shell of my ear, sending delightful shivers down my spine.

  “Liam,” I began, trying to clear the clouds in my thoughts that only seemed to appear when I was with him. “We need to talk."

  “Not now.”

  “Liam,” I groaned. I ran a hand through his golden hair, marveling at how he leaned into my touch.

  “Later,” he promised, pressing a sweet kiss behind my ear and almost making me forget why I was angry. Almost. “Let’s go find our seats. Harri has been bugging me all night about seeing you,” he grumbled before taking my hand firmly in his and leading me through the crowd of people.

  It didn’t go unnoticed by me that every person had something to say to him. Each one wanted to touch a part of him, whether it be a pat on the back or a hearty handshake. They all wanted something. They all thought they had a part of him. I couldn’t help but selfishly wonder which part of him was mine.

  I had thought there was a part of Liam reserved just for me. A part of him that was mine and mine alone, but watching him with all these people, the lines began to blur as an overwhelming sense of jealousy rushed through my chest.

  Then he would look over at me and share a private smile, chasing all my doubts away. Then another person would come with another story about Liam, and the cycle would start all over again. How was I ever to live a life like this?

  Finally, we reached what I suspected to be our table and I was engulfed in a tornado of green hair.

  “Freya,” Harri shouted excitedly. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” I smiled weakly as Liam moved to speak with the other members of his band and Marc. It was obvious from Marc’s behavior that he was unimpressed with his fiancée’s boss. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and a permanent scowl was on his face as he regarded Liam. “Nice hair.”

  “Thanks, I dyed it especially for the night,” she beamed, running her fingers through her short green locks.

  “Very festive,” I smiled before her face turned serious.

  “What are you doing here? You should be at home resting.”

  “No, I’m fine. Besides, Liam wanted me here and what Liam wants, he usually gets.” I knew my smile didn’t reach my eyes, but I was too drained to force myself to be convincing.

  “I owe you an apology, Freya," Harri began guiltily, and I looked at her in confusion.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When we were in Berlin, what I said. I was wrong. There was no excuse for how Liam was treating you. If I had been in your shoes, I probably would have set his hair on fire,” she admitted, and I almost laughed at the image that popped into my head.

  “I’m not sure that would make the world like me more. Can you imagine the headlines? ‘Liam’s insane girlfriend burns the golden mane.’ I might be lynched.”

  “That’s just it Freya, you don’t need the world to like you. It’s hard enough being in a relationship without the added pressure of the insanity of Liam’s world. He should have accommodated you, not the other way around, and I was wrong to say otherwise. You came to me, angry and hurt, and I offered you the worst advice anyone could offer, and I’m sorry.”

  “Harri-”

  “No really, I should never have said those things. I’ve never really had the opportunity for girl talk. Most of my life, I’ve been the only girl in a group of boys. Truthfully, you’re one of the first girlfriends that I’ve ever had.”

  “Girlfriend? Is there something you need to tell me, Harri?” Marc chuckled, coming over to wrap his arm around his fiancée affectionately.

  “Shut up, you,” Harri scolded, landing a hard blow to his side, but he barely even flinched as he laughed.

  “So, how are you doing, Freya?”

  “Fine," I muttered, trying to keep my thoughts away from everything that had happened the night before. “Better, when I’m not thinking about it.”

  “I hear that, but you should talk about it. When you’re ready of course,” he finished seriously, and I nodded my head, all too aware of the couple’s eyes on me.

  “Come on, you,” he smirked, looking down at a thoughtful Harri. "Let’s get to our seats. They’re just about to serve our table, and I know how you get when food is involved.”

  “Sometimes I don’t know why I agreed to marry you,” Harri grumbled, landing another blow to Marc’s side as he led her back to our table.

  We all took our seats, with the exception of a certain rock star who was still working the room as dinner was served. I tried to keep up with the conversation at the table, but I kept finding my attention drifting. I tried to locate Liam as he laughed at one table and spoke animatedly with another. He looked so natural among all these people, so alive. I wondered if that was how he looked when he was with me.

  * * *

  As the night progressed, the time between Liam’s appearances grew longer and longer. I had long since lost track of him and was instead playing with my food, pushing it listlessly around my plate as I tried to dodge the sympathetic looks Harri was sending me. Why had he made me come if the whole night was going to be spent on my own while he spoke with other people?

  After dessert, a stage manager approached our table, ushering the band backstage and leaving just Marc and me at our lonely table.

  The crowd started to get up from their seats and push toward the makeshift stage at the front of the room. It had remained empty until this point but as the lights dimmed, I knew what was about to happen.

  The electricity in the room started to build before the band burst out on stage with Liam as their fearsome leader.

  When I felt the crowd surge and Liam sing out the first notes of one of his more popular songs, I knew. The crowd fed off his energy. They thumped like his very own heartbeat, and I knew.

  Turning from him, I felt a heavy weight fall over my chest. It was clear he was never made to be with just one person. He was a light
the world would always seek out, and I was selfish to believe that I could ever keep a part of him for myself.

  I drifted away from the crowd, not sharing their excitement or enthusiasm. I slumped back into my chair, watching the band from a distance. Every moment Liam shared with a member of the audience sent a spike of jealousy through my heart.

  “He’s looking for you,” came a familiar voice over the thumping music. I looked up to find Marc looking down at me sadly.

  “He wasn’t looking last night,” I bit back, bitterness infecting my body until all I felt was the burn of its embrace.

  “No, he wasn’t,” Marc answered flatly, and I tried to read his expression, but he kept it hidden.

  “Sometimes I wonder why he keeps me around,” I frowned, glaring down at the merry red tabletop.

  “I think the better question might be, why do you stay?” Marc mused, and I looked up just in time to see his back disappear into the crowd. When would this night be over?

  * * *

  “Did you not enjoy my performance?” His warm breath startled me from the daydream. I looked behind me to find a mischievous grin on Liam’s face and in return, I offered him a weak smile.

  “You were great.”

  “Is something the matter?” he frowned, taking the seat beside me and pulling me closer until our legs were entangled.

  “It’s nothing,” I shrugged, trying to pull my hands away from where he held them between us. “I’m just worn out, I guess.”

  “Of course you are,” he said almost as if he were scolding himself. “After everything you went through yesterday, I’m sure this is the last place you want to be.”

  “You never asked me if I wanted to come,” I bit back, anger surging through me suddenly, chasing away any sleepiness that had tried to overcome me.

 

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