Page 7 of Ropes and Revenge
Liam picks up his book and continues to read, ignoring my outburst as though I’m a three-year-old begging for a Reese’s in the grocery line and he’s the totalitarian parent that won’t give it to me.
My bladder aches. “What do you want from me, you stupid fuck?”
He looks at me over the top of his book. “What was that post about?”
I drag in a sharp breath. “Nine months ago, I was pregnant. I was alone. Bryan and I hadn’t met yet. The father didn’t want anything to do with me, and I was okay with that. Everything was going great. I was going to raise my baby boy how I wish I were raised. I was going to be the mother I never had.” I suck in a breath. “Then, one night, I woke up in a puddle of blood. And well… you can guess what happened from there.”
I must be convincing, because Liam wastes no time releasing me from the ropes biting at my skin.
“You’ve got five minutes.”
I nod and stand carefully, trying not to jiggle the piss from my aching bladder as I make my way to the bathroom. I know right where it is because I’ve been watching Liam get up and go.
He stands outside the door, holding guard like the bathroom is Buckingham Palace and I’m the queen. I should be so lucky.
He doesn’t even fuss when I close the door, which I’m thankful for. I have no idea how many hours it’s been, but having just a second alone to catch my breath is calming.
The bathroom is high end with a toilet that talks and sings with a series of bells. The sink isn’t a sink at all, rather a waterfall built into the structure of the room. And the décor is tastefully western with paintings of the mountains and horses running free. I can’t imagine how much this place is worth. I could buy a whole trailer park for what I’m sure he paid for one night here.
The toilet warms as I sit, then hums and beeps as I finally empty my bladder. The spill is so immense that it’s nearly orgasmic. The toilet must feel the same way. When I’ve finished, she hums, sprays me with an unexpected jolt, then pressures me off by hitting my back with the lid. God forbid I lingered.
The mirror is fancy, too. It looks as though there’s a TV that lives inside of it. I’m unsure of how to turn it on, and I’d bet my five minutes is ticking away faster than I’m anticipating, so I pump a few drops of gold hand soap and rinse under the waterfall before checking myself in the mirror.
God, I’m a mess.
I’m not one to be overly focused on looks to begin with. I keep a pretty low maintenance routine and I don’t pay much attention to my weight or skin care, but holy fuck I look like hell. My hair is disheveled and matted. My eyes are black and worn from the bit of mascara I was wearing, and my lips are chapped to high heaven.
“Let’s go,” Liam barks from outside the door.
I obey, though I’m not sure why… other than knowing I don’t have much of a choice.
When the door opens, his face is different. Somber maybe. I’ve seen the look before. I’m not a fan. “You don’t have to feel guilty for me. I’m fine.”
“I don’t feel guilty for you.” His voice is deep and rough. “I know what you’re going through.”
I laugh. “Why do people always assume they know what someone else’s grief feels like?”
Liam looks down, then straightens with a sunken look that turns my stomach. “My son died when he was eight. We were hunting and,” he swallows hard, “my partner wanted more kids after that. I…couldn’t. We broke up shortly after.”
My initial reaction is jealousy. He got eight years with his son before he was taken. But as I look toward Liam, it’s like looking in a mirror. The dark, heavy pain I feel is painted on his face like the permanent scowl of a bear who’s come home to an empty den.
“When did you meet Bryan?”
I shake my head. “Six months ago. He was this logical guy who made sense of everything instead of feeling it. At the time, it was comforting to me.”
“He doesn’t know about the baby, does he?”
I shake my head.
Liam looks down. “Fuck. You quit school because of the baby, didn’t you?”
I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I quit because I was tired.”
“And you settled for Bryan because he feels safe in a world where everything you’ve ever known is heartbreak?”
I laugh. “Now who’s the therapist? Look, it’s not that deep. Bad things happen to everyone. You, me, our kids. We can’t stop it. And we sure as fuck can’t expect anyone else to feel sorry for us. It’s not their job. Bryan is a good man. Not the most exciting, I’ll agree, but he’s good to me.”
Liam stands from his chair and stalks toward me again, backing me against the wall. This time though, his gaze is gentler. “You and I have something in common, princess. More than this tragedy.”