Page 87 of Veiled in Brick

“Just outside,” he clarified quietly.

I nodded, we continued our silent trip, and mere minutes later, Liam was turning off of the highway. He followed the road until it reached a dead end. A right, a left, and another right later, we hit gravel. Tires crunching through rock, he let go of my hand when he passed a sign that read:

Cherry Hills Village

Both of his hands gripped the steering wheel, and he rubbed the leather as if to busy his mind as we passed large oak trees on either side of the path. Small mobile homes were situated strategically throughout the greenery—some as close as a few feet from the next home, some hovering above the ground on cinder blocks, some with a car out front and some without. The vehicle slowed as we approached a slender, brown-sided home. There were wide, uneven steps along the front that led to a wooden patio. The handrail on the left side of them appeared to be long broken, the material hanging by the nails and drooping to the ground. Though the trees were lush and green, there were brown, deteriorating leaves scattered about the steps and porch. We slowed to a stop beside a white car, and Liam shoved the gear shift into park.

Staring at his hands that still remained on the wheel, he bitterly announced, “Home sweet home.”

He appeared to be reminiscing rancorous memories, and I assumed aloud, “You grew up here?”

“Yup,” he replied. “Hope you’re not expecting me to show you around the place; we’re getting the fuck out of here as soon as possible.”

Because it was obvious that he was hesitant to leave the car, I spoke up, “I always assumed that you liked your home.” He looked to me with brows pinched together, and I clarified, “Any time you came back to visit, you seemed like you were excited—happy.”

“Not here,” he stated quickly. “Seeing Cas, staying at her place—yeah. Here…no.” His line of sight shifted to the porch, and when I followed it to find Carter standing in the doorway with an agape jaw, he groaned, “Okay, let’s go.”

His seatbelt was off and he was out the door before I could even register his words. By the time that I moved to follow him, he was taking creaking steps onto the patio and I raced to catch up. Carter remained standing with the entrance to his home ajar, limbs limp by his side as he watched Liam stomp up to greet him. He looked him up and down, and Liam’s steps stopped when he was within an arm’s reach of his father.

“Liam,” Carter nearly breathed his name, shock still etched on his face at the sight of his son. “What are you—”

“Did you fuckin’ hire someone to follow Cas?”

Liam spat out the sentence as if it were coated in acid.

The surprise fell from his face, the realization of the cause of Liam’s visit clear as day, and Carter grumbled, “Of course. You’re here because of Cassandra.”

I tentatively stepped up to the patio, standing behind Liam as he retorted, “Well, I’m not here for you if that’s what you thought. Answer the question.”

“Yeah,” he replied simply, shrugging with both of his hands up by his head and then letting them fall to his thighs. “I did. She skipped town; I have a right to know where my daughter is, don’t I?”

“You use that same guy to find me, too?” Liam asked, his hands on his hips as he stared Carter down.

Carter rolled his hazel eyes. “Yeah.”

“Zoey,” Liam spoke my name, pointing behind himself to gesture towards me. His voice nearly shook as he asked, “Did you pay someone to follow Zoey?”

Carter shifted his weight on his feet to look into my eyes, and he smiled. Dimples appeared on his cheeks, and my chest wrenched at the sight.

“Hello, Zoey.”

“Carter,” Liam snapped.

Carter crossed his arms. “Thought I had a right to know what’s goin’ on in your life.”

Liam’s body stiffened. “So, you did?”

“I did—what of it?” He leaned a shoulder against the door frame, evaluating Liam’s reaction with morbidly curious eyes.

“You’re fucking insane,” Liam muttered. “What are you trying to pull, here? Are you trying to fuckin’ scare me into doing shit for you?”

Carter’s head tipped to the side. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“Good God,” Liam sneered at him, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if Carter’s face was spattered with spit from Liam’s irate words. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t give a shit about the reason anymore, you just need to fucking call him off.”

“Call him off?”

I squinted at him. Carter’s admission chipped away at my will to hold my tongue, and I spoke with little to no regard for the repercussions of my words.

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