Page 26 of Liar
Chapter Nine – Will
My mom’s eyes were tired, weak. Wrinkles sat around them, along with the bruises. She sat beside me on the couch in the great room, taking my hand in hers. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and she wore one of her favorite dresses. “Will,” she spoke, squeezing my hand, “you’re a good boy. I know you think you’re protecting me, but your father is a good man. He’s not hurting me.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d tried to tell me that. I might’ve been young, but I was old enough to know she was being forced to say these things.
I said nothing, because what could I say to a woman who would lie to protect the man hurting her?
“There are no bruises,” she told me pointblank. “Your father isn’t hurting me. We are all safe here, okay?” Mom gave me a smile, releasing my hand to lovingly caress the sides of my face, my cherub cheeks. “We’re Briggs. We’re one happy family. You need to stop telling your teachers that your father is hitting me.”
And then, suddenly, it all made sense. Mom wasn’t protecting him. She was too frightened to ask for help. She didn’t want people to take Declan and I away from her. She wanted us to stay together.
That day I swore to myself I would come up with a way to help her.
I lay in bed that night, Ash fast asleep between Declan and me, and I lost myself in my memories. It was strange, how my mind came up with stories to explain things. Mom didn’t have bruises. I’d made them up, a reason to hate our father so much. I didn’t think I was delusional, but…what else would you call it?
I’d hated my father from day one. Couldn’t say why. And now that he was dead, I should’ve felt relieved. I should’ve felt like my mission in life was accomplished. Our father was dead, his secrets in the open.
But that was the thing…it wasn’t. My mission wasn’t over yet.
Through the darkness, I stared at her. Ash. Fast asleep, her naked torso half-covered under the sheets. She was beautiful, and yet I knew her beauty would attract flies and snakes alike. Ash had been through so much, it was only logical to want to protect her now, to want to shield her from the world and its sleazy inhabitants.
Like Sawyer.
She’d told me that Sawyer had texted her, told me all about him wanting to cook us dinner next week, and I’d smiled and agreed even though I felt like pulling my hair out. The last thing I wanted to do was dress up and play nice with that skank. Sawyer would get his.
I wasn’t proud of it, but while Ash and Declan were getting busy in the shower, I glanced at her phone. Went through her messages. Did a little digging to make sure she wasn’t hiding anything from me. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her; it was more like I didn’t trust anyone else.
I probably read Sawyer’s messages to her a dozen times before I heard the water shut off and I had to act like nothing was going on.
Sawyer…I had the feeling he was going to be a problem.
This wasn’t me overreacting, was it? This wasn’t me obsessing. I didn’t obsess. I just…fixated on things sometimes, especially when those things involved the people I cared most about. And that was Ash and Declan. I cared about them more than I cared about myself. I would give everything to them, so no, I didn’t think it was wrong, or that I was overreacting.
I would suck it up, go to this dinner with Ash, Declan, and Travis, and see. See how much Sawyer wanted her. There were lines I wouldn’t want crossed, and to keep them safe I knew I’d have to step in.
Of course, Sawyer wasn’t the only one I had to watch.
My mind would not shut itself off, so I slowly got out of bed, being as quiet as I could. I wore nothing but athletic shorts, feeling antsy as I cracked open the door and slipped out into the dark hall, heading to the kitchen. Food was the last thing on my mind, but at least it would pass the time. It was more than obvious I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.
I peeked in the fridge, not wanting to make anything. Not really wanting to eat either, but I’d take eating and focusing on the food over thinking about Ash and how she seemed to lure in every single male she came in contact with.
That was an exaggeration. A slight one. But it still stood.
Not seeing anything that appetizing, I shut the fridge door and rested an arm on it, glancing down at a hand. I blinked, and for a split-second, through the darkness, I could’ve sworn I saw blood staining my palm.
But then I blinked again, and it was gone.
I wasn’t a huge fan of blood. I didn’t like how red it was, or how sticky it was. It’s why I used rope with Sabrina, why I didn’t use the knife I threatened her with. I hated stabbing my father with a knife, hated having to help my mom like that.
So messy. The stains were impossible to get out of clothing, too.
I couldn’t say how long I was there, staring at my hand in the darkness, but the sudden flick of a light on above me caused me to jerk, spotting Ash standing near the light switch. Her blonde brows were creased, and she blinked multiple times to adjust her eyes to the light, as did I. She must’ve thrown on one of my shirts, the fabric hanging just low enough to cover everything important.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sounding half asleep.
“Nothing,” I said, wanting her to believe me. If there was one person in the world I wanted to believe everything was fine, it was her. Granted, I hadn’t been my best self lately, letting jealousy and anger rear their ugly heads at every turn. I had to do better.
A light smile crossed her face, and she stepped closer to me, tilting her head to accommodate the height difference between us. She was a rather short one, but she fit perfectly against my chest. Ash leaned her head against my pectorals, wrapping her arms around me. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered.
