Behind Every Lie(86)

“You switched our dinner date in your calendar to the same day I was having dinner with my mom and Andrew, didn’t you? And the date we were supposed to meet the priest. The faucet in the bathroom—I didn’t leave it on, but you told me I did. And the living room—oh God!—you trashed it, not me! Did you … did you drug me so you could make me think I did it? Why? Were you trying to make me think I was fucked up?”

“Don’t be so stupid!” Liam snapped. Sweat glistened above his upper lip. “You are fucked up! You would be a wreck if it wasn’t for me! You should be grateful I’ve taken care of you all this time. I deleted the texts from your mom and hid your coat so the police wouldn’t have any evidence you’d been here. Without me, the police would’ve already arrested you. But I’ve got these passports, and we can get away now, together. You don’t have to go to jail.”

It felt like I was watching the film of my life from a different vantage point, searching for something I’d missed at the time. Stop, rewind. Look again. Oh, there, I see it now: Vista Square Condos, where Liam owned an apartment. For the first time I could see everything as clear as day: Liam loved it when I fell apart so he could put the pieces back together.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You killed her, Eva. But I have a plan to get us out of here.”

“Stop it, Liam!” I shouted. “I remember everything. I wasn’t angry at my mom. I was angry at you! You were here the night Sebastian killed her. You said you put a tracking device in my purse. And you—you raped me.”

“That is not what happened!” he roared. “You were sick after that man in the bar drugged you. You went out into the alleyway, and he was going to rape you. I brought you home and I took care of you. I protected you. And then we started kissing and it was magical. I made love to you.”

I closed my eyes. “I couldn’t move, I’d been drugged! But I said no, I told you to stop!”

He looked down at the floor, sheepish, and I knew I was right.

His silence was all the answer I needed.

Fury boiled inside of me, starting in my bowels, spreading through my veins and infecting my blood. I’d always thought sadness was my default state. Sadness seemed more selfless than anger, like I was holding the pain in rather than making someone else deal with the sharp edges. For years, I’d described myself that way.

I was so many other things: sad, scared, uncertain. I wrapped my emotions in a tiny box, sealed the lid, and buried them so I didn’t have to confront the truth of what had happened to me. But I was never angry.

Until suddenly I was.

“You fucking raped me!” I screamed, hoping my voice would wake Jacob. But he lay silently, not moving.

“No!” Liam tried to reach for me but I slapped him, backing away until my legs pressed against the dining room table. “I swear what we shared was beautiful, special. That’s why I found you again. I moved to Whidbey Island and I found you so we could be together again!”

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth then? Why did you hide it?”

Liam threw his arms up in the air. “Because I was scared of being rejected, okay? But when we met again, it was perfect. You felt it too. We got to have two first times—how many people can say that?”

A rumble of thunder boomed outside, shaking the floor beneath my feet.

Anger zipped through my veins. “I hate you! You raped me, you motherfucker!”

“Stop saying that!” Liam pressed both hands to his ears.

“You raped me, you raped me, you raped me!”

I turned to run, but Liam was too quick. He grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking me back. I screamed as the roots tore from my scalp.

“You can’t leave me!” he howled, a sweaty voice in my ear.

I fell to the floor, Liam on top of me. His fingers dug into my throat, squeezing. I punched at his chest, clawed fingernails across his hands, his wrists, trying to get away. But it was no use. His fingers were like iron.

I stabbed two fingers into Liam’s eyes. He howled and fell to the ground. I kicked hard, my foot landing squarely in his groin. He made a choked oomph sound and curled into the fetal position. I ran to the other side of the living room. The couch blocked my way to the front door. I scanned the room frantically for anything to use as a weapon.

Liam staggered to his feet. His face was twisted with pain.

“I can’t let you go!” he roared. “I love you too much, Eva!”

He practically vibrated with fear, but that didn’t make me feel better; it made me feel worse. He would kill me rather than let me go.

“You don’t love me. You just love controlling me, and I won’t let you do that anymore!”

Headlights swept the front windows, casting streaks of light against the living room wall.

A car door slammed shut. Andrew’s voice filtered in the open front door. “Eva?”

Suddenly there was a gun in Liam’s hand. A gun I never knew he had.

The thump of shoes on stairs.

The taste of blood on my lips.

The air crackling with electricity.

The wind a sharp caress on my cheeks.

My brother’s startled face stared at Liam’s gun.

“No! Andrew!” I leaped toward Liam, grabbing for the gun.

And then the cold, hard barrel was against my chest, and I was no match for Liam’s strength. I was never going to beat him. But Andrew was there, and we were engaged in a three-way tug-of-war. Andrew used his whole body to break Liam’s hold, but he stumbled, his knees dropping to the floor, leaving me in control of the gun.