Page 56 of Veiled in Brick

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s at your door.”

“Now?” The pounding from his entryway sounded once more at the exact right moment, and he squinted at it as if he were confused, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Coming!” he announced with enough gumption for it to reach the visitor.

He swung his legs over the side of the mattress, and I rapidly averted my gaze. It was no use, though—the image of Liam standing from his bed with his navy briefs hanging low on his hips had already been burned into my retinas with a soldering iron. He moved past me swiftly and, to my dismay, he didn’t bother to dress himself. I stifled a groan as I watched his hips sway from side to side with every step; the dimples just above the waistband of his briefs calling out for my touch like a beacon.

Liam approached the door, looking through the peephole and muttering a deep, quiet, “God dammit,” before opening it fully. Standing with one hand on the door frame and the other braced against the door, his fingers flexed against the wood as if he were prepared to slam it shut. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The anger in his voice made an anxious twinge run down my spine, and I crossed my arms as I took a seat on one of the stools by his kitchen island.

“So much for warm greetings,” a man’s voice replied. “Took me a hell of a long time to find you, you know—”

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that,” Liam interjected.

“Why’s that?” the man inquired casually, his voice hitching up high. “Because you don’t want to give me what I deserve?”

“What you deserve?!” Liam exclaimed, and though I couldn’t see his face, I could picture his expression with wide, exasperated eyes. “You don’t deserve shit!”

“Liam?” I called to him quietly, and his hands fell to his sides.

Liam’s dark eyes glanced back to me as he turned, and my silent inquiry of whether everything was okay was answered immediately with an apparent no. His forehead wrinkled with what I could only perceive as confliction, and the man outside the door peered into the apartment. His curious gaze found me, and he spoke:

“Hello—”

Liam interrupted him, speaking my name as if he were about to instruct me to do something, “Zoey—”

“Zoey,” the man repeated my name.

My intestines twisted, though it wasn’t the way he said my name that caused the feeling. It was the picture before me that set me on edge for the man appeared to be an older version of Liam from a different lifetime. He was skinnier than Liam—a faded red t-shirt and jeans hung loose on his body, his hands defiantly set on his hips. His hair was a dusty blonde; his face almost gaunt with the same high cheekbones and wide-set nose. His skin was tanned to a golden hue, and I would have bet money that if he were to have smiled, dimples would appear. He wasn’t smiling, though—his jaw was set in a determined fashion, his hazel eyes sharp.

Liam spoke to him, “Carter—”

“Carter,” he scoffed back. “That’s rich.”

Liam threw a hand in the air. “Well, it’s your name, isn’t it?”

“You could just call me Dad, you know,” the man sneered.

I was well aware of Liam’s strained relationship with his father. My internal fears confirmed, my stomach dropped into my toes and I whispered to myself, “Shit.”

I must have said it louder than I realized, for Carter peeked at me curiously once again.

“Didn’t know you had a girl, Liam,” Carter stated, looking me up and down. “She’s pretty. Hello, Zoey.”

“No, you don’t talk to her.” Liam pointed at his chest. “You talk to me.”

“You want to talk then, let’s talk.”

Carter pushed past Liam into his apartment. Liam closed his front door softly, and I saw his bare shoulders move up and down slowly as he kept his gaze on the doorknob for a moment. He finally let go and spun around, walking past Carter to stand closer to me, as if he could act as some sort of a protective barrier between me and his father.

“We don’t have anything to talk about,” Liam told him. “I don’t owe you anything, Carter, and I sure as shit don’t want you in my apartment.”

“Don’t owe me anything?” Carter responded slowly with a tilt of his head. “I gave you life.”

Liam snorted. “You had an orgasm. It created me. Congratulations.”

“I gave you food. Shelter—”

---