Liane’s hand clutched a fistful of my shirt, but she didn’t say a word.
“My grandfather had made some enemies with the wrong people and they switched the baby, using the real heir as leverage. So, my grandfather took in a stranger’s baby, thinking it was his own blood. His name was Linc, and he was killed in a car accident when he was sixteen. There is some mystery surrounding that, but my grandfather was a very evil man, and I’m fairly sure he was tied to a murder at some point in his past.”
“How terrible for everyone.”
I kissed her hair. “Yes. Well, one day this man shows up and tells my dad that he’s the real Linc and wants to be restored to the family, but he was one evil son-of-a-bitch. Long story short, he kidnapped me and took me to my grandfather’s farm. I’d just been Christmas shopping with my father, and I’d bought him a pocket knife as a gift. I managed to get around my uncle and pulled the knife I’d been carrying in my pocket. Okay, I admit, I wanted to play with it a bit first so it was in my pocket. Anyway, I stabbed him in the neck, and he bled out.”
I expected her to pull away, but she snuggled closer. “How old were you?”
“Thirteen. I’d been farmed out to a military school as a younger boy before all of that happened. I guess I was too much to handle, and my parents were busy having their own cozy little nest. After the incident with my uncle, they bought a condo in Florida and told me my mother was pregnant with twins. I didn’t want any more brothers or sisters, and I told them so. I guess it spooked them, given the situation with my uncle. They turned me over to a shrink, and he gave me all kinds of pills, labeled me as psychotic. I got some more, here and there and I was pretty messed up in my head. I didn’t care, though, because they didn’t care and the angrier they got at me, the more I lashed out. I remember hating everyone. Guess I was living up to my label.”
Her fingers found mine, and we linked them together. “I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine how confusing and horrible that was.”
I didn’t tell her how little I remembered of it all, the pills keeping me in a loop of avoidance. But I nodded and went on, “I got really, really high one night and did a lot of damage to people’s things and they arrested me. I wound up in an institution because my parents were afraid of me. They also thought I’d hurt the twins. I got the shit beat out of me there and managed to escape. I called Bernie, my mother’s assistant. He and I had always been close. He took better care of me than my parents did. Bernie came and took me out of the country — to Mexico. He gave up his life for me and in return, my father sent him money every month to keep me away.”
Liane sobbed, a tiny little sound that I felt more than heard. I shushed her. If she cried, I wouldn’t have been able to go on.
“Bernie only gave me enough for pocket money,” I said after she nodded that she was okay. “I got slashed one night by some boys who thought I had a ton of money on me. That’s where the scars come from. We stayed in an okay place, but one day Bernie didn’t come home. He’d gone to the wrong part of town — he didn’t like women, you see.”
“Please, don’t tell me he….”
I nodded. “I found him. He was dead. I got out of Mexico with phony identification and the kindness of a minister and his wife headed back to California. I hung around, got myself into school and got a load of degrees. My income from my father disappeared when Bernie died. I guess they never took that into consideration. Or maybe they didn’t care; not really sure which. Anyway, changed my hair color, started wearing the glasses and built a small business, which gave me enough to move back here.”
“That’s your parents’ place we looked at tonight, isn’t it?” she asked me.
“Uh, huh. They don’t know I’m here. No one does, except you. So, Liane, I must trust you an awful lot because you have the power to get me into a lot of trouble.”
“You know you can trust me,” she said, “after all, if something bad happened to you, I’d feel it too.” She smiled, and I knew she was trying to lighten my mood.
“So?”
“So, what?” she asked, puzzled.
“Where does that leave me in the book of Liane?”
“Fair enough. My father is a vicar, but I don’t believe in the God he does. I believe in the God of the Universe as an entity of energy, and we are all a part of it, and it of us. I believe that if we embrace only the positive energy, soon that’s all we’ll recognize, and we’ll attract others who believe in positives as well.”
“Then why the hell did you get mixed up with me?” I asked. “You already said you could see a dark something around me.”
“That’s a very good question. I think it’s because I know that the darkness comes from events that happened to you, not because you’re a bad person on your own. I think you were intended to meet me and I to meet you. I think we’re good for each other.”
I kissed the top of her head. “You’re the only person who has ever believed in me. Even Bernie was scared of what I might do.”
“One question?”
“What’s that?”
“May I go to sleep now because it’s two in the morning and I’m sleepy.”
I kissed her hair again and whispered, “Good night, my angel.”
She kissed my cheek and rolled over, scooting her precious ass against my hip as she puffed her pillow and promptly fell asleep.
I laid awake a long time, thinking about our conversation. I realized she had no incentive to tie in with me; she was simply a good and loving person. I was suspicious of this — it was my nature. I wondered whether I could learn to take people at face value for once in my life. And I wondered if she would someday hate me when I settled the score that dwelled inside my heart.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Liane
When I awoke, Hawk was lying on his side, his head balanced on his hand, his eyes watching me. He smiled, and I felt a light happiness fill the room.
“You aren’t afraid of morning breath?” I asked him.
“Not in the least,” he laughed and smacked me on the rump before he slid off the bed and headed to the kitchen.
“Are you making tea?” I called after him.
“Nope. Coffee.”
“Could you make me some tea?”
“Nope. Coffee. You’re the tea maker in this house,” he added, and I felt a glow of belonging.
We took our mugs outdoors and sat on a small patio that held only one chair, so I sat on his lap. “Why just one chair?”