Page 101 of Liam
“...not leaving...” Lucas’s voice, or perhaps it’s Logan’s. The words echo, multiplying.
Darkness creeps in at the edges. The beeping slows, hypnotic in its rhythm. My eyelids feel like lead weights. The last thing I see is a tangle of worried faces melting into a swirl of color as I drift away on a narcotic tide.
My eyelids weigh down on me like lead as I try to open them. The world is a blur of white and muted colors, slowlysharpening into focus. The antiseptic smell of the hospital hits me first, followed by the steady beep of monitors.
I try to shift and immediately regret it. Pain lances through my ribs, sharp and insistent despite the fog of medication. A groan escapes me before I can stop it.
“Liam?” Dad’s voice is rough with worry. “Son, can you hear me?”
I blink a few times, finally able to make out the concerned faces of my family surrounding the bed. They all look haggard, dark circles under their eyes suggesting they’ve been here for hours.
“Water,” I croak, my throat dry as sandpaper.
Logan reaches for a cup with a straw, helping me take a few sips. The cool liquid is a blissful relief.
“How are you feeling?” Cora asks, her voice small and guilt-ridden.
I take stock of my body. Every breath is a challenge, my ribs protesting with each inhale. My head throbs dully, and various parts of me ache in a way that suggests I’m more bruise than man right now.
“Like I went ten rounds with a freight train,” I admit, attempting a weak smile. “What’s the damage?”
“Three broken ribs, severe bruising, mild concussion,” Lucas recites, his tone clipped with barely contained anger. “The doctor says you’ll need to take it easy for a few weeks, but you’ll be okay.”
“Is he dead?”
Dad nods.
The concern etched on all their faces, the fear that still lingers in their eyes. The room is thick with unspoken fears and guilt. I summon what strength I can, forcing lightnessinto my voice. “Come on, guys. It’ll take more than this to keep a Valeur down. I’ll be back annoying you all in no time.”
A small laugh ripples through the room, but the worry still lingers in the air, thick and heavy.
My eyes scan the faces, picking up on every exhausted smile and tear-streaked cheek, but there’s one face missing. Where is she?
Cora steps closer, guilt etched on every line of her face. “Liam, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I let him near us, I?—”
“Cora, you couldn’t have known. None of us did.”
Dad moves forward, his shoulders bowed with the weight of years. “No, son. The blame is mine. If I hadn’t?—”
“Stop,” I interrupt, ignoring the flash of pain. “Elias made his choices. That’s where the blame lies.”
“But if I hadn’t?—”
“No.” My tone brooks no argument. “We deal with what’s next. That’s all we can do now.”
The door creaks open, and my heart leaps. Aleria steps in, disheveled and exhausted, yet she’s never been more beautiful. Our eyes meet, and the world narrows to just us.
“Hey,” I croak, wincing at the roughness in my voice.
Aleria rushes to my bedside, her hand hovering uncertainly before grasping mine. Her touch sends warmth through me, more potent than any pain medication.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, the words tumbling out. “Those awful things I said... I didn’t mean any of it.”
The room empties, my family leaving, trying to give us privacy.
Her fingers tighten around mine. “I know,” she murmurs,her voice thick with emotion. “We figured it out. I’m so sorry it took me a while.”
I swallow hard, searching her face. “Now you know everything.”
