“Do you bring her food?”
“I’m not one of her followers.” He wasn’t going to liken himself to those simping males trying to earn her affection. His relationship with the matriarch was one of mutual companionship and respect. If he brought her food, that would be over.
Liam chuckled. Austin didn’t see what was funny.
They finished the meal in peace, and Austin watched as Liam cleaned up, then stoked the fire burning in the fireplace, replacing the metal grate in front of it once he was done. Austin concluded he was more settled than bothered to have Liam in his space again.
“Did you move back in with your brother?” Austin asked. “In Georgia?”
Liam went still with his back turned, in the middle of shaking out a throw blanket for the couch. It took a few seconds for his limbs to unfreeze.
“I visited. He’s married with four kids now. A busy man.”
Austin frowned. On nights where he was on an upswing and got Liam alone, he would get the man talking. What he would do if he wasn’t working for Cessair, where would he be, what would he study, who would he be? Austin always circled back to that last question. Cessair had been an omnipotent presence; who Austin might be without him there had been impossible to envision. The best he’d managed was to shape hisfuture to fit Connor, who had the vague etchings of a plan when they’d been dating in school: go to Europe with a few friends, work on the coast, never speak to either parent ever again.
“Do you live nearby?” Austin asked, still frowning. One of the few things Liam had mentioned that seemed sincere was that he wanted to reconnect with his older brother, his only living relative. Liam said they hadn’t spoken since he’d joined the military at eighteen.
“I’m in New York.”
A disconcerting feeling flashed through Austin. “You never mentioned New York.” Something with claws scraped against the inside of his ribs. Had Liam always been lying to him? Throwing his pathetic self a bone when he thought Austin was on the edge of hysteria?
Liam tossed the throw blanket onto the couch. “Tammy invited me to stay with her when I left Ireland.”
“Tammy?”
“On the condition I saw a therapist twice a week.”
“Why on earth would you—but your brother?” Austin’s eyes narrowed. “To keep track of me?”
Liam didn’t deny it.
“Waiting for me to go off the rails, is that it?” Austin hissed, rising to his feet.
“I only wanted to—”
Austin’s bedroom door slammed before Liam could finish. Austin thrust his back against the wood, pushing hard enough that his shoulder blades went numb. Was this Austin’s fault?
Years ago, Austin had broken into the house of Connor’s boyfriend, Sam. To this day, he didn’t know what he’d gone there to do. Sam’s brother had been home, and Austin ran away, right into Sam’s neighbour, Gary, who caught him red-handed. Gary wouldn’t listen to Austin’s excuses. He was going to call theguards. If Cessair found out Austin was causing trouble, the few freedoms he’d managed to get a hold of would be stripped away faster than he could scream.
Austin had purposefully touched Gary’s arm. He’d purposefully drawn on that power thundering through his veins. He didn’t consider that he was so close to the ocean. He didn’t consider that his power, a coilingthingin his body, would respond to fear the way it did. Gary died. Left in his place was an obsessed, violent man. One who tracked and followed Austin. Tried to please him in any way he could, and wildly missed the mark every time. He wouldn’t listen when Austin told him to stop.
Austin’s ragged breaths settled in gasps. His bedroom came into focus. The fresh bed sheets smelled like linen and lavender, the floor was swept clean of sand, and the short dresser had a large stereo balanced on top. A USB stuck out of the front, and calming music drifted from the speakers. Somewhere among the mess of the cottage, Liam had found Austin’s phone, and it rested on the bedside table with a white wire leading behind the headboard to a hidden wall socket.
Austin crossed the room. Without wiping the sand from his feet, he slid beneath the sheets, thrusting one of the pillows hard against his ear to try to muffle the buzzing in his head. Tears leaked from his eyes as Liam’s actions flashed behind them: defying Cessair, turning on his mentor, leaving Connor to die on theInfinitetanker. Orbiting Austin, when he should be free.
Austin had no idea if everything between them had been because of his voice. If any of it was real.
He fell into a fitful sleep and woke in the middle of the night. His overhead light was still on, and instrumental cello music drifted from the stereo. Austin pushed the pillow off his head and rose out of bed, rubbing his eyes. He snuck into theliving room, where the lights were out and he was blind. He heard Liam’s steady breaths.
Austin quietly approached, finding by touch that the couch had been pulled out into a bed.
Buried under a stack of fluffy blankets, Liam didn’t feel at all like a soldier. He could easily be at a park tossing his nieces or nephews into the air, or perhaps listening to their troubles, quietly accepting whatever they had to tell him.
Austin placed his knee on the couch, and Liam stirred.
Austin froze, waiting until the man settled again, and then slowly continued.
He lay on top of the blankets, resting his ear against Liam’s chest, listening to the steadyboom, boom, boomof his heart. Liam shouldn’t have stirred any feelings of safety. He’d never been able to shield Austin from any hurt Cessair inflicted over the years, and he couldn’t shield him now from this Wilbur Riley. Feeling safe was nonsensical because the very blood pumping through Austin’s veins meant that was something he would never truly have.
