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Charlie
Liam passes me a mug full of hot chocolate before taking a seat beside me on the sofa. I turn my body so that I'm facing him, my stomach filling with dread as I wait for the answer I've wanted to know for what feels like an eternity.
"I'm going to start right at the beginning. If you need me to stop or explain anything then you can ask, but it might take a while. It's… complicated," he finishes with a jerk of his head as he finds the word most suited to the story I’m patiently waiting to be told.
“I was abused as a kid. Gray probably told you that, but he nor your dad knew the extent of it. It wasn’t just beatings and rape. I was groomed from the first moment I can remember to be what my father and his men wanted me to be. He was powerful. A business man that had more money than sense. More fucking insanity and hatred and want for more money than he ever really needed. So he used me. His friends had the most fucked up fantasies - all involving children. Me. So he charged them. They'd get time with me to do whatever they wanted, and he'd get a hefty cheque at the end of it. I never went to school. He hired a tutor and for the longest time, I would cry myself to sleep wondering how other kids coped with this, because I assumed it was normal. I didn't know any different." He takes a breath, watching my reaction or purposeful lack of a reaction on my behalf. The sorrow I felt filling me made me want to cry for him, but I knew he wouldn't appreciate that and probably wouldn't continue if he saw me react that way, so I schooled my expressions.
Dad had hinted at Liam having had a bad upbringing, but I thought he meant divorced parents or an alcoholic father or a dead parent. Not for one moment did I assume it was ever this bad. I want nothing more than to comfort him, but I also don't want him to stop talking. He looks as though he needs to get it out as much as I want to hear it. I need to know what makes him tick, what makes him him, and what brought me to the situation I'm in now. I know that if I attempt to comfort him, he will take it as a sign of me not being able to cope, or he'll hate the sympathy and stop telling me anything, which is not what I want.
"So, this went on for years, until I met your dad. My father had asked me to go out and run some errands. I'd already tried to run away and was left nearly dead for it so I didn't ever try again. Your dad was there. We hit it off immediately, even though I had no fucking clue how to act around anyone aside from my dad, his friends, and the very few people I'd met outside of that circle of people. Your dad lived right by the depot my dad sent me to to do errands and every time he saw me, he'd come out, take me inside, and feed me more food than I knew what to do with. I went there one day after a particularly bad beating. I was used the night before more brutally than I'd ever been and the moment your dad saw me, he told me he'd get me away from there. And he did. I never saw my dad or his men after that. I lived my life with you and your dad. Your mum, too, until she left and I thought I was healing. Until I was walking home with you from the shop one day and saw my dad stood right outside your front door. I shoved you inside of one of the men’s houses closest to yours, told them to protect you with their life, and walked up to my father as if I wasn't more terrified than I ever had been in my life."
He takes a moment, his brows creasing together as his eyes look skyward, his gaze completely dazed as if recalling the events of that day as they happened exactly, unwilling to miss any small detail out now that he's started.
"What did he want?" I ask, though I have a creeping feeling that I know.
He looks at me after I speak, his eyes withdrawn somehow even though his gaze feels intense.
"He wanted me to work for him. In prison. If I refused, he would take you. He'd obviously been watching me for long enough to know that no matter who I was close with - your dad, Gray, the men at the club.. he knew you were my one true weakness. He insisted that he had men that could get you with a moment's notice, that he'd let me go when I had done what he wanted and that if I didn't do what was needed then he'd make sure his reach got you too and I had no doubt it would." His words shatter me completely. He'd lied - sort of at least when he'd told me the reasoning for his jail sentence when he first got out. But now that he is here, as his story is unfolding, I am beginning to understand and my heart breaks at the thought that I'd ever questioned him.
He had sacrificed himself for me in more ways than I ever truly realised, and I'd done nothing but question him and be unwilling to believe or understand his side of the story. I remember my dad telling me as a child that there were always two sides to every story and I realised now that I had never given him the chance to truly, openly give me his.
"That's why you were going to take me? So Gray and Crow were right, they just didn't understand why they were right." Liam nods as I put the pieces together - pieces that in all fairness, no one could have guessed or assumed without the knowledge that Liam is giving me.
"I planned on taking you away, but I got caught by two of my dad's men and they tried to take you instead. I killed them both and didn't fight or run when I was arrested. I worked for my father inside of prison and did everything I could to creep you out and push you away when I came out despite how much I wanted to do the opposite so that when he saw my life, he didn't see you actively in it. He knew I'd be living with you and your dad, but I needed you to despise me. I needed you to hate me or think badly of me. I didn't want him to know that you mattered, but he'd set a price on your head before I even got out of prison."
"A price on my head?" I question, reminding myself of how I ended up here or at least why I suspected I did. The money. The black market. The various people after me because of the price on my head. I had assumed it was something to do with the club, a rival or competitor, but it had nothing to do with me all along.
"We're in my father's domain, baby girl. That's the reason I can't get out."
I take in what he's said, trying to process why I'm where I am, and realise that it's because of his father wanting to hurt him. It's not my fault. Hell, it's not really got anything to do with me. I had assumed that it was a personal attack on my dad or the club, but I couldn't be more wrong.
It's not my fault.
It's not his either, but this time when I tell myself that it isn't my fault, I believe it. It was some fucked up attempt at Liam’s father wanting to get to him. I could have been anyone Liam cared about, and although I can see why Liam has that grimace on his face as he sits there and undoubtedly blames himself, I know that it isn't his fault either and that he's protected me from the worst - giving me the lesser of two evils. Always. He has been taking my place to ensure that I'm kept safe or as safe as he can keep me.
My heart soars as I watch him, his face in his hands with his elbows on his knees. He looks completely shattered. Broken. Beyond repair, and so much of me wants to fix that.
"Why didn't you tell my dad? How did Gray end up here?" I ask, realising that there must be more he needs to tell me.
Liam doesn't move from his crouched over position but does begin to speak.
"When I saw my father all those years ago and even up until you got here, he insisted that if I told anyone, if I did anything to jeopardise him, he would make sure you all went through a worse fate than death. I had no idea who I could trust. He made me a paranoid mess, thinking that everyone was out to get me. I had no idea what to do. I know I could have done things better but in the moment, I had no idea how. This isn't some excuse; I know I've done things to you that are unforgivable. I know that, but I'd prefer to be the one to hurt you than them. I can't bear the thought of any of them having their hands on you. I'd prefer to be the villain in your story than them." His voice is barely above a whisper, his admission halting my thoughts.
He has been the villain in my story for so long and I've let him be. He's let himself be. When I spoke to him on the phone, he didn't try to redeem himself or make excuses, he let me think the worst.
"What about Gray? He said he was looking for our mum."
He sits up now, running his hand through his hair before looking at me and letting out a low, humourless chuckle.
"He did. He found her. She's with my dad. I have no idea if it was a coincidence or if my dad planned it that way, but he found her with my dad. They're together," he says with a wince.
My brain seems to be having a momentary lapse in sanity. A manic and crazed laugh leaves my lips as I watch Liam for any signs of a lie, but there are none. He's deadly serious.
"You're wrong."
Liam watches me carefully, obviously realising how utterly confused I am as I attempt (and fail) to process what he's told me. She can't be here. In the very same building that I am.
"Why hasn't Gray told me?"
