Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
“Tomorrow?” I ask.
He gives a low growl of assent. “Tomorrow.”
“You’re not… mad. Are you? About what happened?” I can’t quite look back at the bed where we were. I have only the fleeting impression of rumpled sheets. Sheets that had held Liam’s muscled body.
“At you? No.”
Acid rises in my throat. Oh, he’s going to blame himself. “Liam.”
He ties a knot with hard, efficient movements and stands. “You’ll stay here where it’s safe until I have the video. I’ll have Josh watch you. No sneaking out again.”
Such a parental thing to say. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I tell him, earnest, desperate to save what I’ve already lost. I can feel the grains of sand between my fingers. “You didn’t hurt me. You only—”
You only bit me.
A humorless laugh is my answer. “The coach is abusing his power. You were the one telling me how wrong it is, how I should stop him. How is what I did on that bed any different?”
“Because I wanted it.”
He shakes his head, turning away from me. “That doesn’t matter.”
His broad back will be the last thing I see of him, on the one night he sees me as more than a child. I can’t let him leave this way. I’m done letting him tell me what to do. “It matters.”
I’m standing in his bedroom, my bare feet rooted to the ground. He’s in the doorway, his whole body tense as if he needs to flee. Well, maybe he does. Maybe he can’t handle what he wants or what I want. Maybe he can’t handle me, but I’ll be damned if I let him think he’s doing this for my own good.
“What did you say?” he asks, his voice soft.
Anyone else would be wary to hear that tone. Anyone else would be terrified, but he had his chance to hurt me. He could have done so on the bed. And he could have hurt me worse, so much worse, if he hadn’t agreed to help me with Coach Price.
My voice still quavers as I stand my ground. “Rebels took the embassy in Jakarta. I was five years old, and I hid in the cabinets until they found me the next day.”
He makes a low sound of protest. “What’s your point?”
“The motorcade left me behind outside Moscow. It took my father two days to realize I wasn’t there. I hiked to the nearest village and begged them to let me stay in broken Russian.”
“So your father was a bastard,” he says, his voice flat. “I already knew that.”
“I grew up faster than anyone at St. Agnes, and you know it. I may not be experienced with… sex things, but I know what I want. And that’s you.”
He looks so alone standing there, a fortress that will never be torn down, self-contained and isolated. I let myself think that he might let me in, that he might trust me the way I’d brought myself to trust him. It’s enough to make my breath quicken, this hope. This longing.
When he turns away from me, it shouldn’t be a surprise. The weight of it shouldn’t crush me. I’ve had a brick wall around me since I was a child.
Only Liam has the power to tear it down.
“Let me stay,” I say softly.
“Why?” he asks, his broad back still and dark like a statue in the room.
“Because I have nightmares, too.”
He’ll leave now. That’s the only thing he can do. The only thing he’ll allow himself to do. I’m not the only one with a brick wall around me. He has his own, and I’ve never been able to breach it. Which is why I’m not expecting it when he pulls me into his arms. He carries me to bed, holding me tight through my tremors of shock and years-long relief.
That’s how I fall asleep—with him protecting me in the most elemental way, blocking out the bad thoughts with his body. I use him as a shield, but I do more than that. I shield him, too. When he’s holding me, the darkness can’t reach us.
Chapter Seventeen
Violin strings were originally made from dried sheep intestines
LIAM
In the days that follow, I pay a visit to the club where I found Samantha and get the tape—using my reputation and intimidation rather than her precious violin money. I meet with local police and school board members. Coach Price is stripped of his position with the kind of expediency that can only come from a massive scandal. Or in this case the threat of one. A generous endowment to the school’s sports program means they’ll be able to hire a new coach and renovate the gymnasium.
I may have resisted this errand at first, but I find it gives me a sense of satisfaction to make this right, to do something for Samantha.
And in the nights that follow I’m confronted with the worst kind of temptation. I go to sleep alone, certain that I can smell Samantha, that I can feel her body heat left over.