Clarity 3 (10 page)

“You went with him willingly!” Grayson says to me hysterically. “You
wanted
him. You never wanted me. That’s why this fucker needs to die. If I can’t have you, he sure as hell won’t.”

“Stop!” I scream, but I hear another sickening sound as Grayson swings the crowbar. I dive forward and try to intercept the impact, but I’m too late
. I stumble forward and feel the instrument embedded in Liam’s head. A wail of grief leaves my throat as I press both of my hands over the wound. “Liam? Liam! No. No.” I move my hands over his face, touching his shoulders and shaking him gently, trying to stir him to life. “No,” I whisper in disbelief. “You can’t go. You need to stay with me. I don’t have anyone else. You were going to say that you loved me. I love you, too. We need to love each other. Please, please stay.” The warm liquid is seeping out of his cracked skull and onto my hands and knees. I feel a sob shake my shoulders. “Liam!”

My heartache is interrupted as I feel a hand go around my throat, dragging me to my feet and pulling me up to a standing position. I am too weak and drained to fight.

“It’s his own fault,” Grayson says as he pushes me up against the kitchen island. He reaches down and begins to hike up my skirt. “He tried to keep me from having you. But I will have you again, Helen. I’ll do anything to have you just one more time.”

Like a lightning bolt shooting through me, rage fills me with power and strength. I remember my judo training as he puts his hand on my body, and I grab it and twist it until I manage to take him down.

“Fuck you!” I scream at him as I pound my hands into his face. “You monster! Liam was a good man. The best. You’re worthless! I should have killed you! I should have killed you with your own gun, that night! Oh, god. This is my fault.”

Realizing that my lack of bravery has
resulted in Liam’s murder, sobs of guilt and despair begin to rack my chest. Tears pour down my face. “Fuck you,” I whisper. “I hope you burn in hell.”

“I will,” Grayson assures me, catching my wrist in his hand. “
But first, I’m going to have a little taste of heaven. Inside you.”

He releases my wrist and grabs a fistful of my hair, slamming my head into Liam’s stainless steel refrigerator. I scream and struggle against him, but the dizziness overpowers me. I find myself being forced face down onto the kitchen tiles.
The ground is cold against my cheek as Grayson tears at my skirt and underwear.

“I promised you it would be worse this time,” he whispers as he shoves his knees between my thighs to separate them. “Let’s do things a little differently, my angel.”

I feel like I am drowning. I am sobbing and screaming hysterically, unable to properly defend myself as my heart aches with loss of Liam. I don’t even care what happens to me anymore. I am enraged and devastated, vicious and lifeless all at the same time. I don’t know what I am. I don’t know what to do.

I struggle. I struggle and scream and cry. “Liam!” I shout brokenly, begging all the gods to bring him back to life. I need my knight in shining armor. Maybe if I just knew he was alive, I could be strong.
“Please!” I shriek as I try to wrestle with Grayson. For a man with one broken arm, he is impossibly strong and somehow still able to effectively restrain me. I try to reach backwards and grab his broken arm and hurt him, but he doesn’t seem to care. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back, twisting my neck so he can force his mouth down against mine.

“My sweet, sweet Helen. My pure, innocent angel. I
will have you in all the ways I’ve always dreamed of having you...”

“Liam!” I scream through my sobs. I pound my fist into the floor, wishing that it would make the whole apartment building crumble on top of us.
“Liam!
Please. Please, no.”

“Whoa, whoa! Winter, calm down.
Wake up. I’m right here.”

I suddenly stop struggling and grow very still. I feel a body pressed on top of mine and restraining me, but he doesn’t seem to be trying to hurt me. I feel the tears staining my cheeks, but I don’t feel the pain in my wrist or my head.

“Liam?” I whisper again.

“It was a dream,”
he tells me. “You were having a nightmare and flailing all over the place.”

“I don’t...” I can’t seem to speak as the tears continue to pour down my face. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” As soon as he stops restraining me, I reach up and wrap my arms around him tightly. I continue to sob as I cling to him for dear life and bury my face in his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. Shhh. It was all just in your head,” he says tenderly as he holds me. “That was the mother of all nightmares, Winter. What the hell happened in that fertile brain of yours? Do all writers dream like this? Jesus. I thought you were going to break my bed in half.”

I finally stop crying enough to speak. The sound of his calm voice is soothing and reassuring. Still, the bitter taste of the nightmare lingers with me—it was so realistic.

“He hit you on the head with a crowbar,” I tell Liam. “You were gone. I felt you die.”

“Oh, Winter. Who did
? Grayson?”

I nod in response, my arms still tightly clenched around Liam.

“Honey, I broke both of his arms, remember? He’s not going to be able to even lift a crowbar for a long time. Shhh, just breathe slowly. You need to relax.”

I realize then that I’m clinging to him like a child.
I realize how pathetic and needy I must seem. If he had trouble with my issues before... he’ll never be able to love me now. I have screwed this up for good.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, pulling away and reaching up to wipe the sweat away from my forehead.
“God, I’m so stupid. You shouldn’t have to deal with my drama and bullshit. I should just go home and leave you to live your life in peace.”

“Winter, you are my peace.”

“You’re just saying shit to make me feel better. Thanks.” I rub my eyes with a groan. “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“You wrote for about two hours at the kitchen table, but
then you fell asleep on your work. I think it was a side effect of the drugs we gave you. When our pizza delivery came, and holding a slice under your nose wouldn’t wake you up, I carried you to bed.”

“Pizza delivery?” I respond, remembering the knock at the door in my dream.

“Yes. Remember we decided we were going to get pizza on the way home? I told you about that gourmet place that does the super thin crusts with spinach and heaps of feta.”

“Oh, god.” I press both of my palms against my eyes and hold them there for a moment. “Liam. I am so fucked up. You shouldn’t be with me.”

“I want to be with you. I don’t care that you have nightmares. It doesn’t make me love you any less.”

“What?” I say in surprise, removing my palms from my eyes.

“I’m sorry if that makes me uncool. I know it’s kind of soon to use that word. But it’s what I feel for you, Winter. I love you.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head as tears stream down my cheeks. “This is another nightmare. You don’t really feel that way. It’s just a dream. Wake up. Wake up.”

“Why would you think that I don’t?”

“I’m not healthy. You didn’t even want to touch me. This is fucked up. We’re fucked up. I ruined this. I’m not normal. I’m not well-adjusted. I can’t be excited or happy or hopeful. You don’t want me.”

“Will you let me show you?” Liam asks, pressing kisses against my tear-soaked face. He kisses my clammy lips, holding me close against him. “Will you let me show you how I really feel?”

“What do you mean?” I ask him miserably, torn between the need to cling desperately to him, and the urge to run the hell away and get on the first flight out of the goddamn country.

“I said I wasn’t going to hold back anymore,” he whispers against my face. “So let me love you.” He presses a kiss against each of my closed eyelids before moving lower to rain kisses down against my neck and chest.

Somehow, he instantly stirs the fire inside me. I go
from being filled with terror to being filled with desire. I use the feelings that his touch causes within me to try and forget everything negative that I just experienced. The terror and fear dissipates and I let my body respond to his hands and mouth. My back arches and I slide my hands up over his muscular arms. My body is screaming at me and begging for anything good. For anything that means that I’m not alone. For anything that might mean that I could actually be loved.

“Please,” I say again, so softly that I am sure that he cannot hear me.
“Liam, I need you so much.”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. He reaches under my skirt to grab the sides of my underwear and slide it down over my legs. He
also quickly disposes of his own pants and shirt before moving back on top of me. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks me.

I nod and reach up to hug
him tightly, praying that he won’t change his mind again. Tears are still sliding down my face; I am trying but failing to keep it together. I feel like I am irreparably damaged, and his touch is the only thing that can mend me. In this moment, I need him like I need air.

He positions himself at my entrance and then hesitates. “I should get one of the condoms...”

“No,” I say, grabbing him tightly in fear. I feel like if anything interrupts this now, it will never happen. “Please, Liam,” I sob softly. “I don’t care. I don’t care. I just need you.”

He leans down to place a kiss against my lips,
lightly brushing his fingers across my neck. “Okay,” he says softly.

When he begins to press himself inside me, the feelings flood my entire body. The vast volumes of fear and longing threaten to tear me apart. I tremble as I remember how it felt to lose him in my dream.
In so many ways, he is my lifeline. He’s my reason. I want to give myself to him completely. I want to hold him close and treasure his life and strength. I never want to feel that pain of loss again. But I know I will. I just want to forget. I want to feel like everything’s going to be okay.

Life is a terrible thing that likes to rip away the ones that we love. At least, if I really do lose him
someday, I could say that we had this moment together. I can lose everything else, but I can’t lose this. Just one moment. I have been searching for it for the longest time.

Every time I get close to feeling any sort of pleasure, it feels like the sky cracks open to rain down thunder on me.
Please. Don’t let it happen this time.

I just need one moment.

One moment of peace. One moment of being loved. 

Won’t the universe be good to me for a change? I need one perfect moment to remember, in case I never have another perfect moment. Sometimes, I think I never will.

I lift my lips to place a kiss against the edge of his jaw. I am not entirely sure if I intended to kiss him here, or if my aim was off, but I can’t seem to pull away. I love the taste of his skin.

That small touch seems to be all the encouragement he needs, for he releases all his inhibitions and plunges himself inside m
e. I gasp out and cling to him, angling my hips to give him better access. I want to feel him more deeply inside me than anyone has ever been. I want him to heal everything in me that’s broken.

Liam
groans, and he seems to lose control of himself as he gives into the sensations. Something carnal and raw takes control of his body as he moves inside me with the utter abandon of a man possessed. He is no longer the careful, polite doctor that he portrays on the outside; he is the powerful, savage creature that I always knew lingered just beneath his skin. He thrusts himself so deeply inside me that I cry out in pleasure.

And for a moment, I swear that I can see all the colors in the universe.

“
No, I’ve never had any allergic reactions.”

“Great. 
It says here that you’ve never had any other surgeries? Nothing at all? Even something small is important to know. Wisdom teeth, plastic surgery.”

“Nothing,” I tell the anesthesiologist.

“Wonderful,” she says, flipping through her papers. “I’m sorry for taking so long, I just want to confirm everything to be really thorough. Moderate drinking? Non-smoker?”

“That’s all correct,”
I tell her, suppressing a yawn at the endless questioning.

“Alright. Let’
s get this show on the road!” she says. “I’m going to be right back in a moment to put you to sleep.”

“Peachy,” I mumble as she leaves the room.
“You could have just kept talking and I’m sure it would have knocked me out.”

The door closes
behind her, but it opens again a moment later. I hear the sound of shoes squeaking on the floor as someone else approaches. I smile when I recognize the soles of the footwear and the sound of the gait. “Liam,” I say softly.

Without a word, he comes over to the operating table and places his hand on
the curve of my hip. The warmth of his skin easily seeps through the thin fabric of the hospital gown. He does not speak, but he leans down to place a kiss on my lips.

I kiss back for a moment, and my body is instantly flooded with heat and yearning. I wish
that I could pull him down against me and ask him to take me right here on this operating table. Instead, I place a hand on his chest and gently push him away.

“The anesthesiologist w
ill be back at any moment,” I warn him nervously. “Don’t be careless. We can make out later.”

“She’s cool,” Liam says, sliding his hand over my body
in a way that makes me squirm and breathe a little faster. “We only really have to worry about the nurses. Some of them are really fond of me, and they might decide to try and kill you in your sleep if they realize you’re standing in the way.”

“Liam!” I
whisper, smacking his arm. “Jesus. That is not what a girl wants to hear minutes before getting knocked unconscious.”

“
I’m just kidding. Don’t worry,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and squeezing my arm. “I’m going to watch you like a hawk. I won’t let anyone do anything to you that isn’t perfect and precise and intended only to heal you. This is going to be great. I promise. You’ll see! Yes, pun intended.”

“That was terrible,” I tell him, suppressing a smile.
I sigh and reach out to touch his leg. “I wish this surgery wasn’t today. I just wanted to stay in bed with you for as long as possible.”

“
You did,” he tells me with a chuckle. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to try any of the pizza I ordered—but I couldn’t let you have any food or drink after midnight.”

“It’s your fault for distracting me
until midnight,” I say teasingly. “But I suppose I did need the distraction.” I shift uncomfortably on the hospital bed. “Liam, do you think surgery is really necessary at this point? I’ve been like this for so long that I don’t feel like there’s anything wrong with me. Maybe I should just be content with who I am? I’m anxious. I don’t feel... ready.”

“Just leave it all to me,” he says gently. “You said you trust me, remember?
I’ll be right here when you wake up. There are almost no risks to your health other than infection—but you’ve been taking the antibiotic eye drops, and I’ll make sure we’re extra careful. Let’s consider this a gamble with a high probability of success. You’re actually very healthy and much stronger than you think. I discovered that last night when you were able to completely exhaust me.”

I laugh lightly in embarrassment
. “I’m sorry. You’re addictive. I couldn’t seem to get enough.”

“Neither could I,” he says,
placing a kiss against the palm of my hand. “We’ll pick up right where we left off when we get home tonight—if you’re up for it. If you’re in too much pain, we can wait a few days.”

“
Days? I can barely wait a few minutes,” I tell him shyly.

Liam gently brushes his hand through my hair, and he seems like he is about to speak when he gets interrupted.

“Hey!” shouts a familiar voice, and I look up in realization that Owen has entered the room. I hear a loud snap as he pulls a rubber glove down over his wrist. “Liam, get your hands off the patient! We’ll have none of that hanky-panky in my operating room.”

“Your
operating room?” Liam says in amusement.

“Winter, don’t worry about a thing,” Owen assures me. “
I’ll be watching this one to make sure he does a good job and doesn’t get distracted by your body. If his hands start shaking because he gets too turned on, I’ll take over.”

“Owen, I resent tha
t,” Liam says in a low tone. “You know I would never let my emotional state interfere with my work.”

“Hey, it could happen.
I’ve seen some interesting videos lately about eyeball fetishes in Japan. I have no idea what kinky stuff you’re into, man. All I know is that Winter has really pretty eyeballs, and I need to look out for her best interests.” Owen claps Liam on the back affectionately. “Just try not to lose your marbles while we’re working on her marbles.”

“Buddy,” Liam says in a
n annoyed tone. “If you keep implying that I’m a bad doctor in front of my girlfriend who I’m about to
operate on
, you’re going to be the one in danger of losing two
very important
marbles. If you know what I mean.”

Owen gulps loudly, and I can only imagine the death glare that Liam is giving him.
I laugh at their boyish threats.

“I know you guys will do a great job,” I tell them
sincerely. “Even if it doesn’t work on me, thanks for trying.”

“It will work,” Owen says confidently. “We’re essentially just giving your eyes a little push so that they can heal themselves. We’ll be inserting the viral vector containing healthy copies of the RPE65 gene just under your retina...”

“I’ve gone over this with her dozens of times,” Liam assures Owen. “She knows how the gene therapy works.”

“Oh,” Owen says in disappointment. “Fine. I get it. Less talking, more action.”

The
clinking of feminine shoes alerts me to the return of the anesthesiologist. I hear the sound of her fiddling with an apparatus in the room. “Have these boys been bothering you?” she asks me. “Don’t worry. I know they sound like idiots, but they’re brilliant.”

“It’s okay. I trust them,” I tell the anesthesiologist. “I’m a little stressed out, and listening to their bad jokes relaxes me a bit.”

“Honey, I’ve got just the thing to relax you,” she says, placing a plastic mask over my face. “Just breathe normally for a minute or two. I’m going to put some oxygen through here first, but in a moment you’re going to encounter a sweet smell and find yourself drifting off to sleep.”

“Okay,” I mumble into the gas mask.
The scent of plastic assails my nostrils, and I wrinkle my nose up slightly.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,
” Liam assures me. “I want to be the first thing you see, once you can see.”

“Like a mother duck?” Owen asks him.

“Duck?” I respond in confusion.

“You know,” Owen says, “how slightly after hatching...”

While he is in the process of responding, his voice seems to get further and further away until I can’t hear anything at all. This bothers me, because I was very curious to hear what he had to say about the mother duck.