Page 37 of Moth
Chapter Eight
Liam takes me to a café in a slightly more upscale part of town. The artsy, rustic scene for rich kids getting their art degrees while renovating old houses on their parents’ dime. It’s the kind of place my parents assumed I’d move to, but Branden always hated.
I try to push him from my mind as we grab lunch at a small, cozy café where the pleasant beige walls and bright lighting reduce everything else to a distant memory.
“So, what made you come here?” Liam asks. He’s still in uniform, catching odd looks, though our booth is at the back of the shop and mostly out of sight. “All the way from Pennsylvania?”
“Branden asked me to,” I blurt out, only to realize that he didn’t mean “here” literally. Here, as in far from home, in a strange city that I moved to on a desperate whim and a vain quest for freedom. “I liked the English lit program at the college,” I quickly say, my go-to response to similar questions.
He chuckles. “Your brother makes your hometown sound like something out of a storybook. I’m surprised you left.”
Ihadto. But I don’t say as much out loud, squirming in my seat as sweat dribbles down my neck. Is this a test? Branden’s way of ensuring his hold on me lasts, no matter who I’m with… Though he isn’t the only reason I’m on edge. The truth is something I’ve learned to smother and obscure. It’s the only way to live with it.
But for one little second…
The pain hits me like a sucker punch, wholly unexpected. Do I miss my old home? More than anything. At least the memory of it, how it used to be before the chaos and the pain and the darkness that drove us both away.
“I’m sorry,” Liam says, frowning. He fumbles for a napkin from a dispenser in the center of the table and hands it to me. Only now do I realize that my cheeks are wet. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.” I smile wide to prove it, though my lips tremble at the corners.
“At least you have Branden,” he points out. “That’s one hell of a big brother who would move all the way out here just to keep an eye on you. I’m not sure I’d do that for one of my kid sisters.”
His smile is so painfully genuine. He really means it.
“Though, I will say the guy doesn’t chat much. You wanna hear his nickname around the station?” He cups his hand around his mouth and winks. “The vault.”
“Did he ever tell you about Lexi Winacott?” I blurt out. Panic drains the color from my cheeks. What the hell am I doing?
“Not that I recall.” Liam shrugs. “Is she an old girlfriend or something? I knew getting to know you better was a good idea.” He winks again.
But I’m shaking.
Deep down, maybe I could rationalize the slip of the tongue as accidental due to stress. Or spite. Branden puts so much effort into controlling my life. How would he like it if the tables turned?
And it would be so damn easy to turn them—or break the damn table entirely. One word. One phone call. One name.
Lexi,a pretty brunette with blue eyes who skipped into the path of a monster. Lexi, who witnessed something she shouldn’t have. Lexi, who’s dead because of me.
All I have to do is open my mouth, and Branden’s hold over me would be broken irreparably…
But I won’t.
I never will.
“I’m glad you agreed to come to hang with me,” Liam says, awkwardly changing the subject. “The way your brother talks about you… I thought he’d kill me if he knew I liked you. He acts like you’re a saint.”
His voice is so gentle, and he means it as a compliment. I tell myself that over and over—but I can’t stop hearing those words.If he knew I liked you…
My chair squeals as I push back from the table. “I should get back.”
“Of course.” Liam flags down the waitress and pays the bill. “Let me walk you.”
He takes me all the way to my apartment building, and a cruel part of my brain whispers a taunt.How long before he reports back to Branden?
“Have a good day, Branden’s little sis,” he calls warmly. “We should do this again.”
I smile and nod, but the second I’m trapped behind the safety of my apartment door, I’m shaking so badly I have to brace my back against the solid frame just to slide down to my knees without falling.
