Over the Edge (Bridge #3)(30)

I had to break away, and my parents had to know it, once and for all. Even if it cost me financial stability. Even if it cost our family this last tie that kept my parents and my brothers connected. I had to risk it all if I was going to find the person I wanted to be.

The thought was liberating, but devastating. If my foundation was crumbling, a new me had to be built. I didn’t know how I would be able to do that. Warm tears cooled as they streamed down my cheeks.

“Liv, are you all right?”

My eyes flew open at the sound of a male voice, smooth as velvet. I swallowed when Ian approached me. He was dressed in workout clothes. I rushed to wipe away my tears, but he’d surely seen them. Concern filled his gaze. In my experience, most guys didn’t know what to do with a crying woman, but Ian didn’t shy away.

He came closer, brushing his thumb across my cheek. That simple touch made my heart beat faster.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shrugged. “Not really. Family stuff.”

He glanced through the glass windows of the gym and back to me. I thought I caught a flash of hesitation, even guilt, in his eyes.

“Want to get out of here for a little while?”

“Where?”

“Why don’t we go for a run?”

I contemplated his offer. I wanted to curl into a ball and cry out the rest of these toxic emotions, but burning them off along with the rest of the tension that had built up over the week didn’t sound awful either.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with you.”

His smile was warm. “I’m not worried about that. Come on. Just a jog around the neighborhood.”

I inhaled a deep breath and nodded. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

IAN



I stashed my bag in the locker room and joined Liv outside again. Being seen with her like this, so close to Darren’s domain, was probably a mistake, but I hated to see her upset. That and I couldn’t deny wanting to spend some time with her. According to Will, she could become a regular fixture in our lives. He talked about her like she was precious and worth protecting. That inspired mixed feelings in me. As a friend, I worried that I was moving in on something that could mean more than the casual flings he was used to. But Will wasn’t asking me to back down, and I’d desired her from afar for too long to walk away on my own.

I silenced my doubts and shot her a smile that she quickly returned. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Ready when you are.”

We took off, and I let her set the pace. I wasn’t so much interested in pushing myself physically as getting her mind off of whatever was bothering her. Family stuff I certainly could relate to. I could also relate to not wanting to talk about it. I hadn’t talked about my dad’s death to many people. The guys from the station had come to the funeral and paid their respects. My mom broke down almost every time I came by. I’d watched my sisters cry and held them through the sobs, pushing down my own.

But I wouldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t. I’d hardened against the waves of grief that seemed to crash over all of us. They came less frequently as time passed, but the pain hadn’t lessened and neither had my anger. We’d all thought his slow decline had come from age and a lifetime of backbreaking work. We didn’t find out until the end that cancer had been eating away at his body for years. He’d worked through it. Took new jobs, carried on with life, a little slower, thinner, weaker. We never knew until the end. He’d been robbed, and so had we.

At an intersection, Liv looked up to me. “Which way?”

“This way.” I pointed to the right. Without a second thought, I took her in the direction of a place I’d avoided for nearly a year.

We jogged another few blocks before the old studio came into view. My heart raced, not from exertion but from a rush of emotion I wasn’t sure I was ready for yet. I considered passing by and circling back to the place where we’d started. Instead, I slowed in front of the run-down stretch of storefronts, not unlike a few others we’d passed. Not all of this part of Brooklyn had been revitalized and not every venture had made it. That’s what made this place cheap enough to rent, and I’d refused to let it go.

I stared at the old metal door marked with a dozen worn stickers and no other indication that it led to my father’s old workshop. A padlock and chain protected its contents.

“What’s this?”

Beside me, Liv was catching her breath and looking between me and the door that represented a Pandora’s box of unwanted emotion for me. I opened my mouth to speak, but I struggled for the words. Instead, I went to the lock and spun the dial through the combination until it clicked open. I unhooked the chain. Each movement resonated inside of me. I felt like I was moving forward mechanically, forcing myself through each step. Even though I’d contemplated this door a dozen times before, having Liv with me seemed to push me through.

I opened the door that led up a narrow staircase. The air was stale, but tinged with the smells of the studio ahead—wood, chemicals, and even the faintest scent of the homemade wine he’d made here too. I pushed on until we stepped into the large studio. There were no dividing walls, only places designated for one function or another. This was his sanctuary, his place away from everything, to create and simply be.