“They’ll come around.”
“They’ll forgive you, in time. Yeah, probably. But they won’t forgive me. How could they, after what I accused them of? I wouldn’t! Heath and Rowe shouldn’t forgive me either.”
“There’s nothing to forgive…”
He laughed bitterly. “There’s everything to forgive. Just ask them. Maybe then you’ll see the truth.”
I shook my head, hating the pure tortured desperation in his voice. “This isn’t about them. Or me. Liam, your mom…”
He got to his feet so hard the couch skidded back on the shiny white tiles beneath it. “Really? You want to talk about my mom? About how I was too embarrassed of her to involve her in my life for years? Or about how my grandfather—sorry, my father— raped her? Please, Mae, let’s talk about that topic some more.”
Tears rolled down my face. I was desperate to hold him. To curl my body around his and comfort him, but in that moment, he was the wild stallion no one could get near without being trampled.
He lowered his gaze to the floor. “Just go.”
“I don’t want to,” I whispered.
His mouth drew into a grim line. “I don’t want you here.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Dammit, Mae! I do! Leave!”
“No!”
He picked up his phone. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. “Leave. Or I’ll call the cops and tell them where Heath is.”
My mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Try me.”
My heart tore down the middle. I knew that not one part of him wanted to do this. That he was drunk, and hurting, and lashing out at me because he had nobody else to yell at.
I walked slowly to stand in front of him and took the phone from his hand.
He let me.
Our gazes locked, and in his, all I could see was how very broken he was. My heart shattered into a million pieces for him. For us. For the fact he wouldn’t let me in. “I’m walking away, only because you asked me to. But this isn’t it, Liam. This isn’t where it ends.”
I backed off, giving him the space he needed. I walked backward to the door, picking up my purse that I’d dropped in the entranceway.
He watched me go, not making a move to stop me as I turned the door handle. Right before I closed it, I heard him whisper, “It has to be.”
11
Heath
The scent of Mae’s shampoo lingered even after she’d gotten in Rowe’s car and disappeared down his long, gravel-lined drive. Rowe glanced over at me as I locked the door behind her.
“Well, now what?”
I tried to ignore how good he looked, even slumped in a cheap camping chair with a black eye. Something about him being the exact right height while I was standing and he was sitting… I shrugged. “You tired? You should probably rest.”
“I’ve slept most of the last two days, and when I haven’t been sleeping, I’ve been sitting on my ass watching TV. I am not tired. You want to go fishing?”
I gazed out the window. The sun was just starting its descent, changing from vibrant yellow to a more orange tone. In an hour, it would splash pinks and purples across the sky before night fell. It was the perfect time to go fishing. “You think that’s a good idea?”
He shrugged. “The lake is right there. We’re two hundred feet from the cabin if we have to hustle back. Plenty of trees for cover. And we haven’t seen a heli since that first one.”
I was desperate to go farther than five feet outside. Before being locked up, I’d spent most of my time out in nature. Mostly working on rich people’s lawns and gardens, but that was still better than being stuck in some office job where I never got to see the sky. The woods around Rowe’s cabin just begged for hiking and fishing and camping. “You sold me. Let’s go.”
He grinned, and I followed him into the clearing. Despite his confidence, we both scanned the sky the moment we stepped off the porch, and I glanced around nervously, peering into the woods while Rowe took out rods and tackle from his storage shed.
He passed them back to me, a frown pulling between his eyebrows. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine. It’s good to be outside. I’ve missed it.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to vomit?”
Rowe’s cabin provided a false sense of security. I knew logically that I was no safer inside than I was out here. “I’m fine. Quit interrogating me and let’s go.”
Despite the day slipping away, the heat of noon remained. It settled over the lake, thick and muggy, while we found a spot secluded by thick trees and cast our lines out.
It was a picture-perfect-postcard sort of scene, but I couldn’t relax. At even the tiniest of nibbles on my line, I jerked my rod, reeling it in before any fish even had a chance to latch on. Grumbling, I baited my hook again and cast it out with such force it sailed well past Rowe’s.
He glanced at me but didn’t say anything. I peered into the sky again, then down the lake, but there was no one in sight. Not a boat, not a person. Definitely no more police helicopters.
“This is supposed to be relaxing, you know.”
“It’s not.”
He nudged me with his shoulder. “Just pretend you’re not you for five minutes. You’re just some guy who likes to go fishing with his buddy.”
I shot him a look. “Is that what we are? Buddies?”
Rowe jiggled his line without turning in my direction. “Do you normally suck all your friends’ dicks the way you did mine?”
Heat flushed through me at the memory of getting down on my knees in my solitary cell for Rowe. I welcomed it. It was a nice distraction from the stress that held my muscles captive. A little of my anxiety disintegrated. “No. I don’t. Not once.”
Rowe raised an eyebrow. “Never?”
I shook my head.
“I would have never guessed that…judging by your…” He pushed his tongue into his cheek so it bulged. “You know.”
I sniggered. “Technique?”
He dissolved into laughter. “Yeah. You been practicing on cucumbers?”
“Shut up.”
“Too small? Eggplants?”