Page 17 of Possession

My bedroom door handle started to rattle, and a pounding noise caused me to open my eyes. The door seemed to bow inward, and a spike of adrenaline ran through my veins.

“Open. The. Damn. Door.”

Liam.

“Declan! Please. Please, God don’t—” his panicked voice rose above the music and the door strained on its hinges as he fought against it from the other side.

I moved to unlock it, but before I had a chance, splinters of wood scattered to the floor from the door jam. The handle dangled, broken and useless. I stumbled backward and the noise in my brain began to hammer around my temples. Liam’s eyes were wide as they fell to the floor. The room reeked of alcohol.

“Why the hell didn’t you answer me? I thought… I thought—”

“I was dead?” The words were flat.

Liam’s eyes found mine. His jaw ticked with suppressed emotion, and he swallowed before he spoke. “Are you fucking drunk?”

“I might have had a little.”

He moved past me and turned down the music. “Talk to me, Dex, what the fuck?”

“There’s nothing to say.” It was basically what I’d said to her and it still held true.

His jaw clenched even tighter and he gripped my shoulder. “Talk to me, because this shit…” He waved to the shattered remains of his Jack Daniel’s. “Is not okay.”

“I saw her.” The lump in my throat was like glass.

“Paige?” he asked with an irritated patience.

I nodded.

“I thought you said the meds were working?”

“I really saw her, at The Gallery,” I said, stepping back from his touch.

“The Gallery?” He was skeptical.

“Yes, that’s what I just said. She works there, I guess.” I turned away from him and grabbed the small garbage can by my desk as the realization of my truth filled his eyes.

I carefully picked up the shards and placed them in the can. I’d deal with the ruined painting later. Liam’s eyes followed every movement waiting for me to dissolve, but I wouldn’t, not in front of him, not when he was barely escaping his own chaos.

“So? What happened?”

“Nothing… we saw each other, it hurt like hell, and I left.”

He avoided my lack of details and I was grateful, the details were mine… private.

“You should’ve called me, you shouldn’t be drinking.”

“Just like you shouldn’t?” I threw the last chunk of glass hard into the trash can before I set it down.

He raised his eyebrows. “I barely—”

“You were wasted last night, and I know you brought that chick home, too.”

“This isn’t about me, Dex. You can’t drink when you’re taking those meds, it’s not safe, and you can’t let that fucking bitch do this to you.”

I shoved him hard in the chest. “Don’t ever—”

“What? Call it as I see it? She left, Declan, she’s gone, and I’m tired of watching you die over some bitch who chose to leave without telling you why or where she went.”

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