A Reason to Leave

by Melissa Ellen

  He moved around to my side of the car, opening my door for me. He helped me out of the car before grabbing our bags to carry them inside. I walked a few feet ahead of him, stopping to take in the view and breathe in the fresh mountain air. The sun glistened and reflected over the gentle rolls of the rippling water.

  Liam disappeared into the house. I walked up the stairs of the porch and strolled along the wooden deck, running my fingers across the railing. I halted my progression as my fingers passed over a rough spot in the otherwise smooth railing. I stared down at the four sets of carved initials. I studied them, tracing my finger over each. The only one I knew for sure was the LES – Liam Edward Stone.

  I didn’t have time to contemplate the other initials for long. Liam was suddenly behind me.

  “Come on, princess,” he smiled as he lifted and cradled me into his arms.

  I squealed with a giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck. He walked me towards the door, carrying me over the threshold as he kissed me. He gently lowered my feet back to the ground, steadying me as our kissing continued. His dimple graced his face when our lips separated.

  “I need to get the food and other stuff out of the car. And then we’ll finish this.”

  “Do you mind if I take a tour?” I asked nervously, not wanting to overstep or pry where he may not want me.

  “Of course, princess. Make yourself at home.” He brushed his hand down my cheek, giving me one more gentle kiss before leaving back out the front door. I slowly spun around to face the interior of the cabin. It was a simple rectangular layout with a minimalist design but had all the necessities.

  To my far right was a small wooden dining table with four chairs that sat opposite of the kitchen. The only separation between the two rooms was a breakfast bar with barstools. There was a narrow stair case that started in the dining area and rose to an open loft area above the kitchen. The open loft housed a couple of children’s twin bunk beds.

  To the left of the door was a seating area with a moderate sized TV that hung over a stone fire place with a thick, rustic, wood mantel. An old, patterned, fabric couch of dark forest green was placed opposite of the fireplace and accented with brown leather throw pillows. A single brown recliner flanked one side of the couch with an end table separating them.

  Beyond the seating area was a wall lined with crowded bookshelves and a door that led into a master bedroom with the only bathroom in the whole cabin. I walked towards the wall of bookshelves, drawn to the photos of his family, needing to see the people that were tragically ripped from his life.

  There were tons of photos. Most of which appeared to have been taken during times they spent at this cabin. It was a timeline of their lives. The first few were younger, vibrant versions of only his parents. There was one of his mother pregnant, standing on the deck outside, staring out at the lake. She looked content and as peaceful as the view that surrounded her. I glided slowly along, following the story.

  His parents were always smiling. They seemed happy and in love. I stopped at the last picture, picking it up to study it closer. It no longer displayed a family of three, but a family of four. Liam smiled from atop his father’s shoulders and looked to be a little older than the one I had seen in his place in L.A. His mother held a small baby dressed in a pink and white floral onesie.

  I forced back the sob and tears that were rising. The realization he’d not only lost his parents but a little sister in that car accident, had my heart aching. Hearing the rustle of Liam returning, I suppressed my sadness for the man I loved, trying to maintain the strength I was determined to have for him.

  I hastily placed the frame back on the shelf. I forced a smile before swiveling to face him. His hands and arms were full as he struggled to maneuver everything through the narrow door opening.

  “Do you need any help?” I choked out with an unnatural cheerfulness.

  “Nah, I got it, princess. This is all of it.” He walked towards the table, setting everything on top of it. Unable to stand idle where my thoughts and sadness would run freely through my mind, I moved to help him anyways. We both unpacked the grocery bags, putting away the food he had purchased for our stay.

  Once everything was stored away, Liam made us a quick bite to eat before carrying me off to bed caveman style.

  Liam rolled to his side, resting his head in his hand as he gazed down at me. I watched my finger as I traced it along the black lines of his tattoo, lost in my thoughts.

  “Will you tell me about your tattoo?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well…most people choose tattoo’s for a reason, right? Is there a reason or story behind yours? Or did you just get drunk one night and choose it at random?”

  He released a small chuckle. “No…it means something to me.”

  I watched his face before focusing on his indicative eyes. I waited for the hard, distant Liam to appear, but he didn’t.

  “Will you tell me?” I asked cautiously.

  “The symbol stands for strength,” he said, grazing his hand through my hair.

  “And the numbers?” I asked, looking at the tiny 4:13 that was interwoven into the symbol.

  A heaviness darkened his eyes. He closed them for a moment before opening them to respond. “It was the official time they were pronounced dead.” My breath caught in my chest. I expected for him to end his explanation there, but he continued.

  “After their funeral, the pastor that performed the burial service found me hiding from the crowd of people that attended. My parents had a lot of friends. They were well loved, but I barely knew their friends. Most I didn’t know at all, so the last thing I wanted was to be surrounded by them and their grief stricken faces.

  “I had been sitting on the back steps of the church. Tracing the numbers over and over with a black pen on the back of my hand. I’m not even sure why I was doing it. I guess I was just wishing somehow I could go back before that time and change the events that lead to that moment. Like if I engraved them on me, they would magically take me back in time, where I could keep them from getting in that car.

  “The pastor didn’t speak when he first sat with me. He remained quiet for a long time just sitting with me. Watching me with the pen. When he finally spoke, he told me those numbers were some of his favorite numbers…When I asked him why, he said because they reminded him of the words of Philippians 4:13… ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’

  “He asked why I was writing them on my hand. I told him it was their time of death. He waited a few moments before he spoke again, but his words have stuck with me since that day. He told me maybe there was a reason God took them at that moment. Maybe God was telling me that I could endure the pain I was currently suffering. That I needed to find strength in Christ.

  “At the time, the words of comfort he was telling me meant nothing to me. I was ten. All I wanted were my parents. I was angry with God for taking them. It took me many years to find that strength and move forward from my pain and anger. It was around that time that I got the tattoo.”

  Unpreventable tears had welled in my eyes by the time Liam had finished speaking. One dripped out of the corner of my eye before I could stop it. He rubbed his thumb along my skin to catch it. I didn’t know what to say. I could barely form words. I was afraid I would release a sob when I was trying to be strong for him. I was failing miserably. I hated that he had to go through all that at such a young age. And all alone. My heart broke for ten year old Liam.

  “Liam….I…thank you…Thank you for telling me.”

  He nodded, giving me a frail smile, barely visible on his face. “I think that’s enough history lessons for the night.”

  I nodded my agreement. He pulled me to his chest as he rolled us, laying back onto the bed. I pressed my cheek against his heart, listening to its rapid beats. He kissed the crown of my head. His heart began to slow to a strong steady rhythm. I inhaled a deep breath, releasing it in synchronization with his.

  I c
losed my eyes, feeling stronger. Feeling stronger in us. In our future. I knew every time he shared a piece of himself with me, was another step he was making to show me how much he trusted me. It showed me how much he was in this with me. That he was finally accepting that he could be happy. That he could be happy with me. He deserved happiness. He deserved a loving family. And I hoped I could be the one to give him that.

  CHAPTER 14

  The following morning, I woke before Liam. I had been working a lot of early morning shifts the last few weeks, which set my internal clock to wake earlier than I liked. I watched Liam’s handsome face as he slept peacefully. After so many minutes had passed that would turn it from being an act of love and adoration to just plain creepy, I decided to get up and make us some breakfast.

  I eased myself out of the bed, being careful not to wake him. I slipped into the bathroom, quietly brushing my teeth and pulling my hair into a pony tail. I tip toed out of the room, closing the door softly behind me before walking into the kitchen to dig through the ingredients that Liam had brought.

  After setting the coffee to brew, I pulled out the eggs, bacon and bread. I scoured the kitchen cabinets in search of the necessary pans and utensils to prepare breakfast.

  Liam usually did all the cooking for us. I had never been a cook until Lexie moved in with me. I had always eaten at Rhett’s or out at a restaurant after I moved to California. But Lexie had taught me how to make a few basics.

  As I wrapped up the scrambled eggs, Liam sleepily walked into the kitchen with his exposed abs and only a pair of black, mesh athletic shorts on. His hand rubbed over the top of his head further messing up his already ruffled hair. He looked so devastatingly handsome I completely forgot about the bacon I was now burning.

  “Crap!” I yelped, removing it from the pan, ripping my eyes from his Greek God-like body.

  “You’re cooking?” He raised an eyebrow. The state of shock on his face and humor in his voice was almost offensive. In fact, had a wide grin not accompanied it, revealing his delicious dimple, I may have truly been upset.

  “Well I was trying to until you walked in here, distracting me,” I huffed, pulling the last of the bacon from the pan. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind as he buried his face in my neck. “The burnt bacon is your fault,” I blamed him. He released a quiet laugh, dropping a line of kisses down my shoulder.

  “Do you need help, princess?” He nipped at my ear.

  “No,” I breathed.

  “I don’t mind.” The tip of his nose ran back up my neck. I tilted my head to the side.

  “It’s already ready.” My voice came out strained.

  “So am I.” His hands splayed over my hips, pulling them back to press against the bulge in his mesh shorts. My breath hitched.

  “Liam,” I pleaded. I wasn’t sure if it was for him to continue or stop.

  “Yes, princess?”

  I didn’t respond. Unsure of what I actually wanted. His hands rotated my hips, so I was facing him. One slid to the small of my back, as the other brushed down my jawline.

  “Come back to bed.”

  “We need to eat.”

  “We can eat later,” he continued to persuade my body.

  “It will be cold by then…plus, I have a feeling once we go back, we won’t be getting back out.”

  He grinned. “You’re right…And you’ll need your energy. Eat and then bed,” he agreed.

  He cupped my face between his hands, planting a firm kiss on my lips, leaving me light-headed. He snuck a piece of bacon before turning to make a cup a coffee.

  “Hey!” I laugh-yelled, smacking his butt for his thievery.

  “Extra crispy. Just how I like it,” he winked. It was a little more than extra crispy, but I accepted the compliment anyways.

  I dished up two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon. I retrieved the toast out of the toaster and placed one on each plate after buttering them. Liam took a seat at the head of the table, sipping on his coffee. I set a plate in front of him before taking a seat with my own. Liam pulled my bare feet into his lap, needing constant contact.

  “I think this is the first meal you’ve ever cooked for me.” He stared down at his plate.

  “You’re the first guy I’ve ever cooked for.”

  “So I’m taking your cooking virginity?” His eyebrows raised.

  I laughed. “You’re terrible. Just eat.”

  I watched him as he took a bite of his eggs, grinning roguishly. His chewing came to a stop with the sound of a crunch between his teeth. My face dropped as he brought his napkin to his lips removing the food from his mouth.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I stared at him anxiously.

  “Nothing. Just a little bit of egg shell.”

  “Oh my gosh. I can’t believe I messed up the eggs, too.” I hid my face with the palms of my hands. I thought I had retrieved all the pieces that had accidentally cracked off when I was cooking them earlier.

  He laughed light-heartedly. “It’s fine, princess. It happens to even the most seasoned chefs.” His lie was sweet, but we both knew that to be untrue.

  He leaned forward, removing my hands from my face, placing a kiss on my lips. “It’s good,” he assured me. When I didn’t move to pick up my fork, he tilted his head demandingly, “Eat, princess. I want you back in bed, sooner than later… Just beware of egg shells.” He laughed. A grin snuck onto my face. I playfully pushed against his shoulder, forcing him to sit back in his chair.

  We finished our breakfast with our usual playful and flirty banter. Liam cleaned up the dishes while I went to freshen up and check my text messages. I crawled back in bed, pulling the blankets over me, grabbing my phone from the side table. I sent Lexie a quick text, inquiring about her date.

  Liam walked into the room with lust and mischief seeping from every inch of his body. He moved forward. His body full of swagger. I set my phone aside. My eyes remained locked on him, mesmerized.

  “No blankets this time, princess. I want to see every bit of that gorgeous body.”

  His voice floated over me like cool silk. My body instantly responded. The heat cascaded down me from head to toe, waking a carnal desire. He lifted the blankets from my body, tossing them back to the foot of the bed.

  “Strip.”

  His one word demand would have normally triggered a rebellious reaction from me. But the strong, firm delivery had my body and mind submitting to his every command.

  I gripped the hem of my tank top, pulling it over my head, exposing my bare chest. I dropped my shirt over the side of the bed to the floor. I scooted forward, lying back, sliding my shorts and panties down my legs, discarding them also.

  I lay completely bare to Liam. The heat and appreciation in his eyes as they moved up the length of my body turned me on as much as his touch. Liam removed his shorts, standing gloriously over me.

  He crawled onto the bed at my feet. “Raise your hands and grab onto the bed.”

  Once again, I complied without thought or argument, clenching my fists around two of the iron spindles of the headboard. My eagerness had small spasms running through my keen body with irregular breaths.

  “We’re going to do this my way, princess. Keep your hands locked on the bed. If you remove them, I stop,” he warned. “Understand?”

  I nodded, even though I wanted to tell him screw that and this game. I wanted him inside me. Now. But for some reason, I was intrigued and willing to put myself through the delicious torture that awaited me.

  His head ducked down as the tip of his tongue slipped through his lips, licking up the length of my inner leg. His scruff grated my skin as he went. I held my breath, clenching my fists tighter around the iron rods. My heart accelerated.

  As his tongue came within inches of where I needed him most, my hips raised to guide him to the sweet spot. He forced them back to the bed, shaking his head in warning. He continued his mercurial manipulations. My body continued to spasm with desperation. Every second he kissed, licked,
and caressed each inch of my body, felt like an eternity.

  “God, princess,” Liam groaned as the palm of his hand glided up my flattened tummy. “I love feeling your soft, silky skin against me.”

  He climbed up my body, aligning himself at my entrance. I held my breath, ready for the divine torture to end.

  “Liam,” I begged as he hovered over me. I was so wound up I thought I might die. I was losing the strength to remain clutched to the bed frame. I needed to touch him. Desperately. But I didn’t want to risk him stopping. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he did.

  “Tell me what you need, princess.”

  “You. I need you.”

  With the release of my words, he claimed me. Pushing inside me with ease, reuniting us. My body accepting him as its other half.

  “Liam,” I moaned my plea. “I need to touch you.”

  “Okay, princess…let go,” he gritted out between his forceful pumps. The words barely left his mouth before I desperately clung to his shoulders, digging my fingers into his skin. We slammed our mouths together as he deftly worked our bodies to their precipice.

  My body hummed. He lifted his upper body to his hands, holding himself above me as he steadily continued to move inside me. I clutched his taut biceps as he watched me come unraveled below him.

  “Liam.” I released his name with a breathy rasp. I closed my eyes to conceal the vision of his strong body, trying to control my release, stretching it out longer.

  “Fuck…,” he grated. “I love watching you spasm below me as you moan my name.”

  His words were my undoing. The little bit of control I had over my orgasm was lost. A tremble rolled through me. Pleasure exploded. He growled his own release while helping to extend mine.