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I wanted to laugh but there was too much sadness in his voice.
I closed my fists and waited a beat. This new information was something I couldn't process. Whether to laugh or cry, I wasn't sure anymore. And Liam wasn't giving me any guidance. He was silent...except for the quickened pace of his breath.
I felt like ice water was pouring into my chest.
When I dared sneak a look at him, Liam was staring at the piece of paper his mother had handed him. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning, not really reading, and his lips were pressed together in a thin line. The muscle in his jaw twitched like a metronome, beat beat beat.
When he saw me staring at him, he crumpled the paper in his fist and shoved it into his pocket. "Darius, please take Shay home," he said, staring straight ahead.
Darius stepped out from the foyer. The momentary realization that he had been hiding there, away from Dahlia's icy blue disapproval made me jealous. I wished I had joined him. But that didn’t mean I would go with him now.
"Liam, what is it?"
He didn't answer. I could taste panic. "Liam...?" I reached out to touch his arm.
He threw my hand off of him. "Please...," he grunted, his rage barely contained - at me, at the letter, at Dahlia, I wasn't sure but I was still terrified in its proximity. "Just go. Do as I say."
Terror was replaced with temper. "No! Just because I let you..." I lowered my voice, "do things to me doesn't mean I let you order me around. This isn't the bedroom, asshole."
"Just GO!" he thundered, and his face was terrible.
Darius stepped swiftly to my stunned side. "Come with me Shay," he said, reaching out his hand. "I'll take you home."
Chapter Twenty - Seven
Two texts and three phone calls later and I still hadn't heard anything from Liam.
I replaced my phone on the counter and looked at Kit. "Nothing."
He shook his head. "Of course he turns out to be an asshole. Guys that look like that? They always are."
In spite of how much I wanted to agree with him, a small part of me still rose to defend Liam. "He's not...normally an asshole."
"Honey, how in the hell do you know how he is...normally?" Kit shook his head. "Good in bed doesn't mean good for the head."
I snorted. "Where's that from?"
"I just made it up." Kit preened a little, slicking down a curl of red beard.
I shot him a sarcastic smile. "Well then, you're brilliant!"
He sighed. "If I were brilliant, I would come up with a way to save this place. If only to stop my mother's crying."
The image of Mrs. Young's kind face crumpled in tears nearly brought me to tears myself. I brushed it to the side as quickly as I could. "You'll think of something."
"Well I can't very well keep asking you to go without a paycheck."
"Kit, I'm fine," I soothed, and then I reddened when I remembered why I was fine. Liam had paid my bills the night I let him tie me up.
I was a fucking prostitute.
No. He didn't get to just shove me out of a rough part of his life. Not if he claimed this meant something to him.
"Earth to Shay!"
Kit had been talking. I snapped back into focus. "Sorry."
"Girl just go then!" Kit exploded. "Fuck, I mean, I'm not even paying you right now, I can't make you stay here. Go find your man and demand to know why his fine ass is being a dick." He trailed off and pretended to wipe drool from his mouth. "Sorry, got distracted there a second. It was a nice image."
I laughed out loud. It felt good. "You sure?"
"Positive. Give 'em hell. Then have crazy makeup sex."
That was an appealing thought. "Thanks, lover. Kiss mama for me."
It was still too damn cold outside, but the sun was shining brightly and the steady drip drip of the melting snow off rooftops gave me hope.
It was a long walk to Liam's office, but strangely I didn't mind. I was actually doing something about what had happened. With Tre, I only stood back in denial. Now I was actually confronting Liam's behavior head on. Telling him he couldn't get away with it. Not with me.
I wasn't that kind of girl anymore.
Walking north on 8th street, I started crossing the city diagonally, moving from the working class shops below South Street up through the deserted touristy areas and into the glass-walled canyons of Center City.
Liam's office was in the high rise at 17th and Locust and by the time I reached it I was really regretting not taking a cab.
My hair was frizzed out underneath my woolen cap and I was sweating underneath my puffy jacket. I didn't smell too great either.
But I still held my head high in the lobby. And luckily there was no security to stop me from heading right to the elevator.
His office was on the top floor. He probably had an incredible view of Liberty Place. I bounced up and down on my toes and realized I was actually excited to surprise him at work. I wanted to see his face light up when I walked in.
Then I sternly reminded myself of why I had come. To give him hell, in the words of Kit Young.
But I still couldn't hold back the teeny bit of pride I felt when the elevator let me off into a long hallway leading to a large oaken door with his name on it. William Graves Development, it read in sleek, gold script.
My man.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed my way in.
And heard shouting.
I froze. The roof of Liberty Place was just outside of the floor to ceiling windows, but no one was there to take in the view. No receptionists, no assistants, no employees. Just loud, angry voices from down the hall.
I started moving to the door, my curiosity getting the better of me. I passed workstations that were still powering down, still warm and humming. Chairs were pushed back like people had left in a hurry.
A shout and then a crash. I hurried down the hall towards the sound of a woman, screeching incoherently.
And then a loud voice. A firm voice. Liam's voice shouting back, "Lily, stop it!"
Lily.
My pulse sounded in my ears. Thick choking rage closed off my throat.
Lily.
Lily was here.
Alone with him.
I reached the door. The screams had been replaced with muffled sobs now. I heard Liam's voice rumbling, soft and soothing.
I pushed the door open. And saw her in his arms.
She was tiny while he was huge, pale while he was golden. Her fine blond hair hung in tatters down her bony back. She was thin to the point of being skeletal.
He was holding her. Close, so close, petting her hair and whispering while she clung to him.
Everything about her was the opposite of me.
I pushed the door open wider and it let out a creak.
Both of them froze. They turned to look at me.
Liam's face crumpled. "Shay. Shit."
And then I was running.
Chapter Twenty - Eight
They were all staring down at me. Jasmine, Kiki...even Kit stood over me like the Cowardly Lion in Wizard of Oz.
And I was Dorothy, waking from a horrible, horrible dream.
"What happened?" I murmured sleepily, stretching as I sat up. The left side of my body ached, my feet ached, my head pounded. I blinked and tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
"You blasted through t
he front door yesterday afternoon," Jazzy said. "I was grading papers on the couch and you mumbled something about wanting to just sleep forever." Her lip curved into a sardonic smile. "And then you fell on the couch and proceeded to do just that."
