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“Let me untie you,” he says, emotion thick in his voice.
He gently eases me forward and rests my head on his shoulder. I breathe in the scent of him: cedar, musk, and pine. He unties the binds, but I still can’t help the hiss that escapes my mouth. When the blood rushes back into my fingers it feels like thousands of pins are being stuck into me. My arms fall dead at my sides and my head throbs.
Liam uses his good arm to pull me into him, letting his chin rest on top of my head.
“You’re safe now, baby,” he mutters against my hair. “I’ve got you.”
I release a loud sob, and he only holds me tighter.
“You’re safe,” he whispers again. “You’re safe.”
thirty-five
Liam
It’sbeenforty-eighthourssince the incident.
Nick Squires is being treated for a gunshot wound to the left thigh but is expected to make a full recovery. I’ve since found out he’s been suffering from colon cancer. But unlike Birdie, I can’t find it in my heart to feel bad for the man who terrorized her and held her at gunpoint. I don’t feel bad for Shea either, who’s currently sitting in a local precinct after being denied bail along with the two men she hired to play security guard for the day.
Birdie whimpers and I turn my eyes toward her sleeping form. It’s just after eight in the morning, and the early sun makes her skin glow and her hair look like spun gold. My heart squeezes in my chest when I think about what could have happened that night. I almost lost her forever.
Watching her own dad hold a gun to her head, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to erase that image from my mind. Every time I close my eyes I see it, and my sleep has been absolute shit because of it. It appears that my life is meant to be plagued with horrible scenes of those I care about being threatened, or worse.
It doesn’t help that every time I catch sight of her bruised wrists, my stomach sours. There’s no nerve damage, she’ll just be sore for a bit. The doctor said there’s no reason to believe her piano playing would be affected. The relief on her face when he told her that—my eyes burn at the memory.
The worst part is, my slip-ups, my prioritization of our relationship over her safety, it’s why the other day happened. If I acted faster on the information I discovered on social media, I could have gotten ahead of Nick and Shea. When I mentioned this to Birdie at the hospital, she quickly brushed it off. She told me she understood why I didn’t tell her right away. But even with her assurance I still feel guilty as fuck.
Birdie smiles gently and makes another tiny noise—I wonder what she’s dreaming about. The first night after we got back from the hospital, I held her all night while she tossed and turned from nightmares. She hardly speaks about what went down. She’ll need to talk about it eventually, but I understand why she can’t right now. She’s already told the police what happened—and then Gia, Eric, and the band. They were shocked that Shea was the culprit and her half-sister. I think they all blamed themselves for not putting the pieces together.
Eric and the label asked if she wanted to cancel the rest of the tour, and for a moment I wondered if Birdie would consider it. I should have known better. She asked to postpone the next few stops, then pick up back in Louisiana where Ben and Wren would meet us. Eric tried to give her more time, but she insisted she would be fine. Even if she wasn’t, I knew Birdie would go on anyway and give them one hell of a show. That’s just who she is.
I run my hands through my mussed hair. I’ve been in emotional turmoil since the event. Not just from what happened, but what to do next. From the moment Birdie mouthed that she loved me, I knew she had accepted the fact that her own dad may kill her. That she could leave this world and be okay with it. It pissed me off. Not only that she resigned herself to that fate, but that I’d put her in that position. That I’d failed her, just as I’d failed Maria.
Over the last forty-eight hours I’ve tried to come to terms with the love I have for Birdie. I wanted to say it back, but at the same time, I couldn’t. I do love her. I love her too much, and that’s the problem. Losing Maria changed my life—but losing Birdie—she’s better off without me screwing up her life more than I already have. No matter what we are to each other, her life is more important. She deserves to be with someone that won’t fail her. That won’t let their love blind them like it blinded me. I came here to do a job, and I failed at that job.
I pry my eyes away from the beautiful woman I love, to the suitcases before me. I need to leave before I lose my nerve. But I’m not going to leave without saying goodbye. I may be an asshole, but if I left without telling her why, then I’d be a heartless asshole. I can’t do that to her.
“Liam...” Birdie’s sleepy voice mumbles.
“Go back to sleep,” I say quietly.
“I can hear you thinking from here. Come back to bed. It’s early.” She opens her eyes a crack, but when she takes in the fact I’m not moving, she stiffens. “What is it Liam?” She sits up then, the tight shirt she’s wearing stretching as she moves.
My mouth goes dry, and I hate myself for what I’m about to do. I planned on doing this when she woke up after a good night's sleep, but I should have known she’d wake up when I wasn’t next to her. I pause for a moment but decide it’s better to just say it. There will never be a good time to tell her I’m leaving.
“We need to talk.”
She takes in my bags, and I see her jaw tighten. Wide awake now, her hazel eyes are pained. “You’re leaving.” It’s a statement, not a question. She says it as if she knew I would. That makes my heart wrench even more.
“I have to.”
Birdie takes a shuddering breath then moves to get off the bed. She’s not wearing any pants, and her white shirt is almost see-through. I focus on her eyes, not allowing myself to succumb to how much I want her. Not just her body, but her mind, her heart, her soul. The worst part is, I know she would willingly give it all to me. She’d go all in and convince me to do the same. But I can’t. I can’t do that to her.
Birdie crosses her arms over her chest, her stance harsh. “You were going to leave without saying anything.”
I shake my head as I stand to meet her. “No, of course not.”
Her shoulders ease just slightly, but her anger is replaced with confusion. “I don’t understand… I knew you were pulling away, but I thought we’d get through it. I thought—damn it, Liam. What the hell are you thinking?” she cries, her voice thick with sadness. “I thought I meant more to you than this.”
