Page 29 of The Savior

“You didn’t eat?” He straightened.

“Of course I did. And I peed too. If you want to know every little detail.” Perhaps now he was piecing together how her offer had turned from a minor inconvenience into a marathon of boredom. This entire pantomime was ludicrous.

He staggered to the couch, dropped, and buried his face in his hands.

That might’ve been the right moment to slip out. With all of the bickering, she was going to need a smoothie. One with extra protein for strength and whatever could be added for sanity—a miracle drug all blended up. It might be the only thing that could keep her from wringing his ungrateful neck.

But he didn’t pick his head up, and worry got the best of her again. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

Nothing, of course. Why should I expect him to clarify his erratic behavior?Still, Chelsea waited for him to provide a real answer and tidied the mess of work papers, magazines, and books she’d piled around the chair. But she couldn’t ignore how the end of the world pressed on his shoulders. “Look, Liam.”

He didn’t unbury his face.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” he mumbled. “I’m the one person youdon’thave to worry about.”

“Would you stop talking in code?”

But he didn’t explain. She never should have volunteered to sit watch over a living room. Enabling him had made the situation worse. Her aggravation surpassed a level which a smoothie could salvage.

In need of something much more potent, she stomped toward the kitchen pantry, on the hunt for feel-good food, and came face-to-face with a beautiful jar of queso.

Times like these called for fake cheese. The unnaturally orange container beckoned for her to drown her exasperations in junk food. She grabbed the jar and a bag of tortilla chips.

His footsteps approached.

She stepped away from the pantry, armed with her snacks. “What? Your special lookout post can be unmanned now?”

Liam stepped in front of her path to the kitchen table. “Real nice.”

Chelsea elbowed by him. If ever a time existed to throw a temper tantrum and demand to be alone, the present moment seemed right. But she couldn’t. Instead, Chelsea held the queso in one hand and the chips in the other and shook them. “This is the only thing I want to deal with right now. Go away.”

“There are so many things going on right now,” he said, explaining nothing.

She shook the jar and bag again for emphasis then sidestepped him. “I’m tired and angry—” Suddenly, the loss and how their lives had changed over twelve months hit Chelsea like a ton of coffee cake. Overwhelmed, she wanted to cry. But that sure as SpaghettiOs wasn’t going to happen in front of him. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

“You should go home.” His jaw ticked. “Really, you shouldn’t stay here anymore.”

She choked off a scream.Who died and made you king?Her throat seized. Julia had died. Everything had changed. A tear threatened to spill down her cheek. He wouldnotmake her cry.

“You can take the chips and cheese with you,” he offered.

The junk food wasn’t the problem! A fat tear spilled down her cheek. His sharp green eyes narrowed, and his scrutiny was as draining as it was infuriating. She wanted to make him understand but couldn’t, and she slammed her fists down.

The chips crunched on the stone floor. The queso jar shattered. Orange cheese splattered around her bare feet. The glass jar lay broken, shards strewn around the point of impact. Her breath shook, but even as she stood like an island surrounded by cheese and glass, letting loose provided relief. Even if it were just for that second.

“Shit, Chelsea.” Liam stepped forward.

She put her arms up to keep him at bay. All she’d wanted was queso and now she had to escape. She pushed onto her bare tiptoes and spun, wishing she could disappear.

“Hang on,” he ordered. “I can help you.”

No way.

“Dammit, Chelsea.” He reached for her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Despite her protests, Liam swooped her from the mess.

---