by A. L. Moore
“Long time no see,” Liam smiled my favorite crooked grin, leaning back on the seat with his arms crossed over a black t-shirt.
Walking was out of the question. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed him until that very moment. It didn't matter who saw. My parents. Mason. No one else mattered. I had to be in Liam's arms. I broke out in a sprint, not stopping until the warmth of his strong arms engulfed me.
My memory was a pale comparison to what I’d been missing, and thankfully so. I breathed in his fresh scent, burying my head in his neck as he squeezed me off my feet, making me safe and untouchable.
“Liam,” my voice hitched.
“Hey now.” His hand caressed my back in small circles. “What’s with the tears?”
Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I grasped his face in both hands. His bristled cheeks tickled my palms. “I thought you were in jail. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“No, baby, they had to cut me loose,” he said soothingly. “Jayson got sent up again for violating his probation, but they didn’t have anything on me.”
“The drugs?”
“Were Tom’s,” he said. “I had to sign an affidavit, but after what he did to you, I hope they fry the SOB.
I hugged him tightly again, running my fingers through the back of his hair. “I can’t believe you are really here.”
His grin was infectious. “I’m here, I promise you.” He held me back at arm’s length, giving me a once over. “You look different,” he said, studying my school-issued, white, collared shirt and khaki pants. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in pants before.”
“They don’t really allow cutoffs and tank tops at school,” I blushed crimson.
“Right, school,” he said averting his eyes to the cigarette-butt he ground into the pavement. “And Mason? Is that who I saw you with?”
I glanced back toward the busy sidewalk where I knew Mason would be looking for me by now. “Yeah, he’s been really good about everything,” I said reluctantly. “He’s a good guy. Under different circumstances, you guys might like each other.” Liam looked at me skeptically. “Maybe not,” I chuckled. It felt so good to laugh.
He massaged the top of my knuckles with his thumb, wreaking havoc with the butterflies in my stomach. I’d missed that feeling so much. “I’m really sorry about how things turned out,” he started. “If Tom or Marco did anything to you,” he paused, staring a hole into the road.
“I hate myself for not being there. I should have never let you go inside alone.”
“You couldn’t have known, Liam. It wasn’t your fault.”
He grasped my hand tightly, his eyes pensive. “When I went in and you were gone… I was almost to the cabin when I saw all the cops. Jayson and I hung back, but I didn’t leave. Not until I saw you walk out.”
I grimaced as the dark images I’d fought for weeks slowly trickled out of their hiding place, making me feel ashamed and dirty. “Liam, I need to tell you something,” I started, staring at my shoes.
“He tilted my chin up, interrupting. “I took care of Tyler.”
“How did you…” The pain in his eyes unfurled the knot in my stomach. “Did Tonya tell you?”
He drummed a fresh cigarette pack against his palm, staring off in the distance. “Doesn’t matter. Just know he won’t bother you again.
“Did he do that to your face, too?” he asked, touching the small scar below my eye.
“No, that was a gift from your girlfriend,” I said. “I guess I deserved it.”
His lip twitched, making me smile. “That was some night.
“Do you regret it,” he asked, sticking the pack of smokes back in the side of his boot and pulling me closer.
Grey wisps carrying nicotine swirled in the stifling air above us. The thin, grey smoke didn’t bother me anymore. Truth be told, I’d missed the smell. I’d subconsciously linked it to leather and warm rides in the summer. All things related to Liam.
“Regret you?” I’d thought about the same question every night after the bust. I hadn’t set out to fall in love this summer. I’d just wanted to break out of the routine that was my life. To live for once. Liam happened by chance. He was everything I wanted but didn’t know to look for. “Not for a second,” I smiled.
“What about you?” I asked twisting our hands together. “I’m sure this isn’t how you planned to spend your summer, defending some high school girl.”
He rolled his eyes. “The only regret I have is how things went down, Justice.”
‘I’m sorry about that,” I sighed. “When they took us in, I hoped that you got away, but I should’ve guessed you’d be pulled down with me.” I peered into his eyes in apology. “That’s happened a lot this summer.”
“Is that how you see it?” he questioned.
“There’s no other way to see it. You’ve been in hot water at every turn because I wanted a little excitement this summer.
“Thanks for that, by the way,” I added glumly.
He smirked, squeezing my hand, “I think you provided the excitement this summer.”
“It’s not funny.”
He pulled me into his chest and gave me a tight squeeze. “You’ve got it all wrong, Justice. You saved me this summer. If not for you, I’d be locked up with the rest of them.” I started to argue, but he cut me off. “No, I’m serous. You reminded me that I don't need to stare out that window and wait for a ride anymore. That I can get out of here all on my own. You reminded me there is still good in the world. So, thank you.” He drew circles on my back with his hand, before giving my hair a gentle tug.
“So, what now?” he asked looking past me to where Mason and the rest of normalcy awaited me.
“You tell me?” I said, using his words from earlier in the summer against him.
He chuckled, “You get on this bike, and we can go anywhere you want to go, Justice Asher." I eagerly climbed on the seat and wrapped my arms around his jacket, hot from what was left of our summer sun. "Where to?" he asked, firing the engine.
"Let's do something we both haven't done in a while," I called over the bittersweet sound of the roaring engine. "Take me to church." I felt him chuckle beneath my hands as he tore out of the ally that had stolen my innocence.
"Sounds like a plan," he said, giving my clasped hands a tight squeeze. "Sounds like a plan."
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A.L. Moore
About the Author
A.L. Moore is a graduate of the University of South Carolina. She discovered a love for writing at a young age—filling notebooks with poetry and short stories. She resides in South Carolina with her husband and two children.
Connect with the author: www.instagram.com/authoralmoore
