Page 15 of Addicted

“Yes.” Owen raised an eyebrow. “And if I would’ve been aware of it during my interview, I might have reconsidered. Also, there’s a phone issue, an e-mail issue, many issues really, and I’d like to track down all the missing files in the building.WhileI’m getting the hang of things.”

“That sounds like a lot?” Liam should congratulate himself for being the best conversationalist ever. If Owen wasn’t so smooth and charming this meeting would’ve been much more awkward.

“It is, which is why Dylan suggested that I pick a member of the staff to assist me for a few weeks. How would you like the job?”

Liam choked, his eyes going so wide he thought they’d fall out of his head. Yeah, he shouldn’t have let his guard down.

“Me?” he squeaked. “I-I don’t know.”

“According to Dylan you’re one of the best candidates and Marci told me that she’d only be sending her favorite people up here to meet me. Even though I’ve only known her for a few days, I trust her judgment.” Owen’s eyes were full of expectant hope, like he was excited about the prospect of working with Liam, like hebelievedin Liam, and it had been so long since someone had looked at him like that. It made him want to say yes even if it was the worst idea in the world. How could he work with this man? A man he’d had a strange crush on for years, a man who would constantly remind Liam of his parents and his old life, a man who would be too close, who would see how much Liam was struggling. That would lead to disappointment, concern, and if Owen ever looked at Liam with pity he didn’t think he’d be able to take it.

Liam swallowed again; his throat was so parched. “B-But I probably w-won’t be much help?”

“You’ve been here several years. You know the ins and outs of this place, how the events are run, how the staff runs. Please, Liam, it would be so helpful to me.” Owen put a hand on his chest like he was swearing an oath, his gorgeous face lighting up with another one of those brilliant smiles, turning him from merely gorgeous to downright angelic. “I would only need you a few hours a day until I have a handle on things.”

Liam got lost in Owen’s pleading gaze, the familiarity soothing in a way, and the word came out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“Okay.” Why? Why did he agree? It was like some part of him liked the grief, because now he wouldn’t even be able to escape it at work. His past was bleeding into his present and, starting tomorrow, whenever he walked into The Pointe and looked at Owen memories of his parents would haunt him like ghosts.

“Wonderful!” Owen jumped up and walked around the desk. At first, Liam thought he was going to be hugged again but Owen held out his hand instead. It was large and calloused, with thick fingers, and Liam’s mind began to spin once more. “I’ll feel so much better with your help on this. It’s going to be great!”

“Yeah,” Liam said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, returning the handshake. But instead of savoring the feel of Owen’s skin, he only felt anxiety, like he was mired in quicksand and sinking fast.

Slogging into his apartment at close to one in the morning, Liam slid down the door once it closed, thunking his head back into it as he reached the floor. Owen had been the big news story all night but since The Pointe had been fully booked with over two hundred and fifty guests in the main room and far too many twelve-year-olds at the bat mitzvah downstairs, Liam had run around for hours, easily avoiding conversation. But he could only dodge for so long before he had to start answering questions.

Most of the shock had worn off but he was still shaken and depressed. He thought about quitting but he couldn’t. Where else could he get the time off he needed and work with people who - aside from Marci - didn’t pry too deeply? Nowhere else because he didn’t have a high school degree. He didn’t have a college degree. He didn’t have parents. He didn’t have much of anything. Just his job at The Pointe and a bunch of boxes filled with things from his life before it ended.

He didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this. The beginning had been a blur of hospitals, funeral homes, the sad faces of family friends, and real estate agents coming intohishouse to take it away and bring him to his new shallow home. Not that this apartment waseverhome. It was only a place, somewhere to sleep and barely exist.

Then came the monotony. At first, Liam had busied himself with trying to get help but his health insurance had been lost with his parents and he didn’t want to drain his savings by talking to someone so he had to make a go of it on his own. Besides, a therapist couldn’t change the past; unless they had a time machine they were useless.

After filling out dozens of applications he’d managed to land a job at The Pointe. John had been quite intimidating in the interview, pushing Liam close to tears, but he’d been out of options. Nothing else had paid half as well and he couldn’t sit home and stare at the walls all day even if he’d wanted to. There was something sacred about the money he had left. It was the last of his parents, the final thing they could give him, and he wouldn’t fritter it away while he dealt with his feelings; he wanted to honor them by using it for his education, if he could ever get his head together to go to college. So, he didn’t touch it at all and relied on what he made at The Pointe, his life becoming a constant drone of working event after event, returning to a shitty apartment that was Not Home, and holding grief’s hand.

There were so many what-ifs. What if Liam had gone to the movies that night with them, instead of staying home and studying? What if they had seen an earlier movie? A later movie? What if it hadn’t rained? What if they had brought the car over for a checkup, like Owen had asked? What if his mother had woken up from her coma? What if Liam had kept the house?

Those questions were always in the back of his head, swirling around with his memories, poisoning them, souring all the happy ones. And now Owen Parker was working at The Pointe, making all thosewhat-ifsstronger, louder, and bringing up more memories to suffer over and pollute.

Liam slammed his head against the door this time, trying to hold back tears but failing. He could almost hear the crack as the chasm widened inside of him, leaving him with nothing but a thin shell. He barely felt like a person anymore. He was just a robot, going through the motions, waiting for...

What was he waiting for? To get better? To be happy? If it hadn’t happened yet it was never going to happen.

As tears streamed down his cheeks, he noticed two small white pills on the counter by the kitchen. Pills he’d tossed there the previous night and had forgotten to throw out.

Standing, Liam wiped his eyes but his sight blurred again immediately and he knew that he was in for another all-night crying session.

But maybe he didn’t have to cry tonight.

Liam reached out and picked up one of the pills, putting it in the cradle of his palm.

Maybe he could feel good. Just for a little while.

6

LIAM

“Marci!Dylan!”Liamwavedhello, a grin on his face as he strode through the foyer of The Pointe, ready for the day. His co-workers stopped mid-sentence, blinking at Liam as he walked up to them. There was shock on Dylan’s face, suspicion on Marci’s.

“Okay,” Marci put her hands on her hips. “Where is Liam and what did you do with him?”

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