Page 88 of Debt of My Soul

Frozen, I don’t move. It’s only the warm, gentle push against my back that ushers me in. The ghost of Liam’s hand lingers on the small of my back much longer than it’s actually there.

Not now, not now. I scream at my body to gather its wits.

Once inside, the smell of eucalyptus wafts passed us and I inhale the scent, missing the homey smells from my candles and room sprays. The cabin isn’t gross, and it’s taken to smelling better in the few weeks I’ve been there, but it’s immune to feminine scents, it seems. Nature and the woodsy scent Liam strides around with permeate the building. I’ve gotten used to it though, and when I lie on his bed?—

A soft voice from the kitchen beckons us, and we’re led through a wide hallway, a white staircase on the left, into an open white and marbled kitchen. Farmhouse style and utterly beautiful, this kitchen surprisingly is like a larger version of my own before it was burnt to a crisp. I narrow my eyes at the cabinets, and I cringe thinking how Adam must have helped update his parents’ kitchen at some point. His signature is on everything.

“Fleur!” Mrs. Parker shouts, wrangling her apron off and tossing it on the counter. She approaches with open arms and throws herself at me. Stiff, arms pinned to my sides, I suppress a laugh as she squeezes me.

When we break our embrace, she turns to Liam, her smile fading into a frown. “Liam,” she says. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Liam responds.

Her tone is pure brittleness and Liam, who tries to keep his face steady, falters. The sadness that flickers in his eyes is short-lived as another voice echoes along the living room walls.

“Hello,brother.”

Mrs. Parker darts for the stove, pulling on her oven mitts and ignoring the situation entirely. I’m starting to think it was her who brought him here.

Adam strides toward us, veering toward me, and wraps me in a hug. He breathes a sigh of relief in my neck. “Fleur,” he mumbles in my ear. “I was so worried.”

Tears threaten behind my eyes. Be it for the fire and our parting the last time I saw him—unconscious on the ground. Or maybe it’s the sad fact he was more worried about saving himself than me when Darrin took me. There’s even a smidge of resentment. That he would allow his brother to pay his debt, compromising his soul.

I push against him, loosening myself from his grip. “It’s good to see you, Adam. I was worried, too.” It’s not a lie. Those days locked in the clubhouse cell were riddled with fear. Not only for myself but for Adam.

I spy Liam out of the corner of my eye, speaking with his father off the side. A family photo of the five of them from well over twenty years ago hangs above where they talk, and I shake my head at what their family has now become.

In Liam’s absence, Mrs. Parker approaches me again. She’s wearing a pink blouse with white capris and her hair is down, sufficiently teased.

“I hear you work at the bed-and-breakfast,” Mrs Parker says.

Seriously? It’s like I’m in the twilight zone. This woman invited us over for dinner, after learning through the town’s gossip hens that Liam and I were married. Then she decides to add Adam to the invite list. This woman.

I try to put myself in her shoes. She thinks Adam is her golden boy. Perfectly polished and done wrong by his older brother, who runs with the thugs of the town. An injustice has been done to her son, and while she looks at me with kindness, I can’t help but feel she blames me underneath it all.

It looks bad. But if she only knew …

“I do—did.” I shake my head. “Mrs. and Mr. Northgate are the sweetest,” I add.

“They’d be happy to know you think that. My parents have always had a heart for hospitality. I’m afraid only my daughter received that trait.” She giggles and pats Adam on the shoulder.

The elusive sister and daughter. Her muddy brown hair and bright eyes resemble both Adam and Liam in the family photo, but neither Adam nor Liam talk about her.

“Is she local?”

“Oh no, she’s off hiking the western part of the US. She has a heart for adventure.” Mrs. Parker’s face falls at her mention of that, and I decide not to let on I don’t know her name. There is more to this story and I’m not sure it’s my place to pry.

A bell chimes in the kitchen and Mrs. Parker backs away, around the hulking island. “Chicken’s almost done,” she singsongs.

With Liam still in hushed discussion with his father, I lean over to Adam and ask where the bathroom is. He smiles and points down another hallway lined with beautiful watercolor paintings. One after the other of what has to be the same artist’s art repeats down the hall until I find the third door on the right.

The bathroom is small but appears to be plucked straight from a magazine. Light blue walls that swirl like the sea brush up against cream wainscoting, wrapping the space housing a toilet and pedestal sink.

Mindlessly, I let the hot water run over my hands after using the facilities. I stare in the mirror, wishing for all the world I could run back to the cabin. Confrontation is not my thing, and my body demands I run. However, for reasons I can’t explain, I hate the thought of Liam being here alone to shoulder this burden.

Maybe it’s some messed up forced marriage derangement.

I told myself I’d leave Ruin as soon as I’m able to get out of this messed up crazy, but there’s a twinge of unease when I think about leaving Liam. He can’t have very many years left here.What will he do when his time is up? Will he move on? Try to find someone to share his life with?—

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