Released (Caged #3)(35)
Chapter 9—Start the Healing
The next few days were odd, to say the least. Tria sat with me and amended my list, including going back to the old apartment building and getting my shit from Katie, taking Tria to the clinic, and finding a new place to live. Michael had made it clear that we weren’t only welcome at his house, but he expected us to stay there until Tria started her next semester of school in the fall. I didn’t like it, but with the three of them ganging up on me about logistics and shit, I couldn’t win.
Really, it was when Tria looked at me with those big, brown doe-eyes that I couldn’t deny her anything. She and Chelsea became close very quickly, and I was pretty sure Chelsea convinced Tria it was best for both of us to stay here for the short term.
A business trip caused Sunday dinner with my parents to be cancelled, and I was glad for the delay. I still wasn’t sure what to do about their eventual visit.
“I don’t want him to know,” I told Michael. I leaned back on the couch and resisted the urge to put my feet up on Chelsea’s coffee table. “He doesn’t need to know I’m staying here, and he doesn’t need to know about Tria being here? either.”
“It’s not like he hasn’t already met her,” Michael said. He poured himself a small shot of scotch and offered me the same. “You know I told him about her the second I got back from Portland. I was thrilled to know you were in a relationship, and so was he.”
“Well, he doesn’t need to know anything else.”
“Liam, he’s your father.”
“No!” I yelled. “He lost that right a long time ago!”
“He’s tried to make amends,” Michael said. He set the bottle of scotch back down on the bar and wiped off the counter where he must have spilled a bit.
“Bullshit!” I replied.
“It is not bullshit!” Michael yelled back. The scotch forgotten, he crossed the room with his finger pointed at me. “He tried to reach you, Liam! He tried to take it all back, even before Aimee’s funeral! You wouldn’t speak to him! He tried to reach out to you later, and you wouldn’t talk to him then, either! When Ryan finally found you, and they showed up together, you broke his jaw.”
“What?” I asked, a little shocked at this revelation.
“Didn’t know that, did you?” Michael raised his eyebrows. “Broken in three places, and he lost four teeth. He had his jaw wired shut for two months while he took meals through a straw. He wouldn’t even let Julianne try again after that, thinking you might really hurt her. You were out of f*cking control, Liam! He f*cked up, too, but you can’t lay all of this on your father!”
I clenched my teeth as I forced myself not to respond. I wanted to scream at him to shut the f*ck up—that none of what he was saying could have been right—but I couldn’t. I had to shut up for Tria’s sake. I had to keep her safe, and right now, I needed Michael in order to be able to do that.
I had hit my father, but I didn’t remember hitting him that hard.
“I’m not going to lie to my own brother about the whereabouts of his son,” Michael said firmly. “You don’t have to be here when he comes, and I won’t tell him before Sunday, but I’m not lying to him.”
“Lying to whom?” Tria asked as she walked in carrying Mary Poppins’ Carpet Bag. She stopped rooting around in it long enough to look between us. “What’s going on?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I reached out, grabbed her hand, and then pulled her toward the door. “Let’s just go get all my shit from the crazy lady.”
As tempted as I was, I didn’t go to the landlord’s office although I had thoughts of popping in and beating the shit out of him. I knew I’d probably end up shot, and that was the last thing Tria needed right now. We just had Damon drive the car around the block as we ran up to Krazy Katie’s apartment.
She was inside for once and even answered the door when I pounded on it and yelled for her. That was good because I didn’t want to climb the f*cking fire escape.
As soon as the door opened, Krazy Katie reached over and grabbed the carton of cigarettes I had been holding with one hand and Tria in the other. She hauled Tria inside and sat down next to the wall. She tore open the carton to dump the packs on the carpet and got to work. As Tria pulled out strips from the roll of tape, I grabbed a few boxes of my things and ran downstairs to shove them into the trunk of the Rolls as it made laps around the building.
“How do you know it’s a girl?” Tria was asking Krazy Katie as I came back in for the last of the stuff. “I’m not even showing or anything.”
Whatever Krazy Katie had said, she seemed to be done talking. Tria glanced up to me.
“You know she’s just talking bullshit,” I reminded her.
“You told her I was pregnant?”
“She seemed to know already. Probably heard us talking. The walls are thin.”
“She said it’s a girl,” Tria said.
I swallowed past a lump in my throat. For the most part, I have been surviving by trying to forget Tria was pregnant at all, and for a couple hours at a time, it worked. Then someone would say something about it, and my palms would start to sweat.
I really didn’t want to end up in the hospital again.