Austin couldn’t look away from Liam’s eyes. His arms folded over his chest, fingers gripping hard at his own flesh. Conflict broiled inside Austin, but not indecision. He would try. Try to have this connection. Trust himself not to ruin it. “Did you open your own message thread on my phone?”
“I didn’t go through your phone. I only made sure Bradley wasn’t sending weird things to you.”
Austin offered it to Liam, who dried his hands and took it. Liam tapped through to his own name in the message threads, and Austin averted his eyes. He wasn’t sure how many messages there were. At least a hundred. Since the day he’d fired Liam and demanded he leave, Austin had drafted dozens upon dozens of messages. None had ever been sent, but there they all were, sitting there on Austin’s phone as exposed as peeled-back ribs and an open heart.
Some said,You can come back, I guess.
Others,Tammy is going to be offering you a job in Ireland.
And,Please.
“I thought I’d ruin you,” Austin said. “Sometimes, I thought I already had.” His eyes burned. “I hate how muchmy voice can hurt you. I hate that I’m capableof giving you headaches just by opening my mouth. That I make you cringe.” He breathed out a shaky, unstable breath. “But I think you’re right about what you said. I won’t always feel like that. I won’t alwaysbelike that. I feel better now than I have in years”—perhaps better than he ever had—“and that’s even after getting bad news.”
If finding out about Gary wasn’t enough to turn his voice deadly to everyone, then Austin believed there was hope. Sam’s rejection had turned his voice so harsh that nobody could get near him without covering their ears, and he’d been forced to send Liam away again. Learning about Gary’s fate hit far harder, but his voice held steady. Austin stayed in control.
Liam pulled Austin into a tight hug. Something must have clicked because he finally embraced Austin without awkwardness. “I’d be ruined without you, Austin,” he admitted, gruff. “Not because of you.”
Austin clung to Liam until most of the bubbles in the sink had popped. When he pulled back, he couldn’t look at Liam’s face. “I’m going to shower. Can we burn the files afterwards? In that new stove?”
Liam made an indistinct noise. Austin had a horrible suspicion that the man’s cheeks were wet and quickly fled.
When he emerged from an extra-long shower, Liam had stacks of cardboard boxes in the living room and a fire lit in the stove.
“It’ll take all day like this,” Liam pointed out.
Austin settled on the couch with the siren book he’d tossed into the waterproof bag alongside Liam’s book. “I have all day,” he said.
A sheaf of paper was in the middle of the book, a folded missive from Hal. Tristan must have been using the letter as a bookmark. Curious, Austin read the page Tristan had been on.Despite capricious and fickle natures, all the sirens mentioned in this treatise formed close-knit, loyal courts. For example, in my studies of…The passage went on to break down in detail the courts of the five known sirens in the last three hundred centuries.
Austin turned the page, continuing to read.
???
Tammy arrived at lunch with her sharp haircut and large brown briefcase. She paused long enough to make coffee and then set up on the kitchen table and got to work.
“Liam, can you get my printer from the car?”
Liam left his post next to the stove—he’d got through a third of the files and had emptied the ashes out several times already—and fetched it for her.
“Anything particular you want in the story?” Tammy asked Austin.
“I want him cleared of everything,” Austin answered without looking up from his book.The sirens in this treatise all had an insatiable need to be either loved or admired. If they are denied both, there are reports of a siren’s song causing madness in the listeners. I believe this phenomenon occurred in Yusop’s life after the death of his lover, Prince Torik. Yusop’s mourning song caused the entire funeral procession to begin tearing out their hair, and several people attempted to take their own lives. Yusop was difficult to track after this incident, but it seems his song after Torik’s death was as likely to harm as to enchant.
Austin turned the page. “I’m sick of him wearing those caps around everywhere.”
Liam looked up from the printer he was plugging in.
“We’re keeping it simple then: Cessair was blackmailing him. Austin, I’ll put together your sworn testimony about it. I’ll forge an iron paper trail, and you’ll be the key eyewitness.”
“Print my script. I’ll memorise it.”
“What’s all this?” Liam eyed the work spread across the kitchen table.
“You heard Austin. He’s sick of you wearing those caps, so we’re clearing your name.”
Austin pretended not to notice Liam’s gaze. “I should have done this two years ago,” he said. “But I was mad at you for running off, so I didn’t. There’s space for another file in the stove.”
Liam distractedly fed in the next file.
