Page 88 of Liam

Mamma grabbed my arm as I ended the call.

"What happened?"

"It's nothing. He's at the centre. He was doing something that caused him to tip over."

Mamma frowned at me. "He's able to get back in his chair if that happens."

"He must have hurt something when he fell." I gripped both her hands. "He's all right. I'm going to go to him. I'll help him and we'll talk. I need to talk to him—alone."

She gave me a slight smile. "You'll tell him?"

"That I love him?" I squeezed her hands. "Yeah, I'll tell him."

When I released her hands, she patted my cheek. "Then off you go. Make my son happy again." I jogged toward the door, then ran all the way to the youth centre. The front doors were unlocked, thankfully. But I wish they hadn't been. That's how the attacker had gained access.

I hurried in the direction of Jamal's office.

His scared shaky voice seeped out through the doorway. "Liam?"

"It's me." I burst in and rushed to where he was on his side behind his desk. He looked like a rag doll someone had discarded onto the floor. "Let's get this wheelchair out from under you."

I shoved Jamal's desk to give myself more room to work. Jamal was able to work himself off the armrest. It concerned me that he appeared to be cringing as he scooted along on his left arm.

I touched his shoulder. "Have you injured your arm?"

"Yeah, I landed pretty hard on my shoulder. It'll be fine." He winced as he shuffled forward away from the wheelchair. "My hip is going to be bruised from the armrest. It could have been so much worse. I don't think anything is broken." He looked up at me. "I need you to touch me."

"Always." I stroked the hair along his temple to comfort both of us as I gazed down at him. Someone had come at this beautiful man with hatred. It didn't seem possible.

"Who was he?" I abandoned Jamal's hair. His legs were compacted against the front rigging of his chair. I lifted them away and brought them forward to be under Jamal's torso.

"The parent of someone deadnamed Peter. He accused us of making his son think he's a girl."

"I know who Peter was." They had confided in me. "That was Avery."

"Ah … okay. That makes sense. They came out as enby to their parents recently."

I didn't want to talk about Avery. I wanted to check every inch of Jamal's body to make sure the damage wasn't too severe. "Do you hurt anywhere else?"

"He gave me a good boot to the stomach, but it doesn't hurt much."

"Jeezus. We need to take you to the hospital." His body free of the wheelchair, I stood and righted it. It wasn't the wheelchair I was used to seeing him in. This one was older and heavy. Sadness flooded me. He must have damaged the other one when he threw it down the stairs.

"I'm fine. I just want to go home." He struggled to find a way to sit.

I rushed back to him. "Here, let me help you." I was gentle, my arms around his chest, aware his gut was sore, and righted him until he was sitting, then released him and gave him space.

He clutched my arm. "Just give me a sec. I'm dizzy."

My gaze wandered his face as I imagined spending my life with him. Growing old together. His jet-black hair turning grey. All the adventures of life we'd have together.

His eyes, his nose, his cheekbones, his chin—

What the fuck?

My heart dropped into my gut and made my entire body vibrate.

I lifted Jamal's chin and turned his face from side to side. On his neck were a set of bruises like someone's fingers had been gripping his throat. "Did he choke you?"

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