Prove Me Right (11 page)

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Authors: Anna Brooks

Tags: #It's Kind of Personal, #Book 3

BOOK: Prove Me Right
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Liam touches my shoulder. I’d recognize his touch anywhere. Normally, his hands bring me nothing but pleasure, whether it be comforting or sexual. But right now, it makes my stomach coil with disgust for everything that he’s ruined without even knowing it. I waited my entire life for him, and all along, I asked one fucking thing of him. I struggle out of Pierce’s hold and run to the bathroom and slam the door behind me. My stomach lurches and I heave into the toilet.

Everything becomes blurry again, and I fall to the floor. My body once again a pile of skin and bones.

Chapter 11

Liam

THE LAST THING I
remember was doing a few lines in the bathroom of our dressing room and stumbling to the bus where I thought Meara was coming to meet me. Somehow, I blacked out waiting for her and the next thing I knew Brandon and his girlfriend, Mary, woke me up. Brandon’s brother is Travis, who is married to Meara’s cousin, Charlotte. Brandon and Mary were in town for the concert and found me passed out on my bus when Travis called them. I threw up on the bus and fell walking to their car, more fucked up than I thought. They didn’t tell me anything other than Meara was hurt and I needed to go with them to the hospital.

My brain tried to process what they were saying, but the alcohol and drugs made my mind jumbled. Once inside the car, I tried to stay awake but passed out again until we arrived in Wisconsin at the hospital.

The short nap did wonders, and I managed to get inside the building okay. My body has unfortunately gotten used to being overrun with vodka, but the second I saw Meara sitting on the bed, I was wide-awake and stone cold sober.

I’m not surprised to see her family here.

She’s not happy to see me, though. I’ve known her my entire life and I’ve never seen the look on her face she has right now. She looks empty.

Between the pounding of my head and Meara beating on my chest, my entire body is throbbing. But what’s worse than that is the fucking uneven gallop of my heart.

I take a step toward the bathroom, but Pierce blocks my way.

We’ve been friends for a long ass time. Even though he’s a couple of years older than I am, we’ve always been close. He was one of the most supportive people when the band decided to go on the road. He didn’t warn me of the possibility of failure. He never even threatened me with bodily harm if I hurt his sister because he knows I never would. An understanding that either one of us would die before we let something happen to her was just always there. He was more of a sibling than my stepbrother sometimes.

I love Pierce like a brother, so when he steps in front of me to block the door, I know for the first time in our almost three-decade friendship that shit is about to go down. Knowing Pierce could kill me with one hand doesn’t stop me from stepping toward him.

“No way. She doesn’t want you here for some reason. You need to leave.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

“I’m not leaving until she talks to me.” I have no clue what the hell is going on. Why is she so fucking mad at me?

Pierce stands his ground and crosses his arms, clearly trying to show I don’t intimidate him.

“She just did. And she said she wants you to leave, which is the only thing she’s said since she’s been here. And I can only think of a couple reasons why she’d hate you so much right now, and none of them are giving me the warm and fuzzies. I suggest you get out of my face before you do something you’ll regret.”

My body tenses like a tightly wound snake and I step closer, my heaving chest only inches from him.

“Move, Pierce. That’s
my
woman in there.” I growl and point to the door.

“No, Liam. You’re my friend, but she’s
my
sister. Don’t make me force you out of here. I don’t know what you did, but you’re not going anywhere near her. I’m not telling you again to get outta my face.”

Without hesitation, I push at Pierce and his mom gasps. “Boys, stop it!”

“Now is not the time or the place,” Mr. Kelly admonishes.

Brandon pulls me back while Travis blocks Pierce, and I’m suddenly in a situation where I’m the bad guy—the one they’re protecting Meara against—and I fucking hate it.

“Let’s go, man.” Brandon grabs my shoulder and I turn to swing at him.

He ducks out of the way, twists my arm behind my back, and shoves my chest against the wall. Stupid cop move. My hat bumps the dry erase board and a marker falls off. “Don’t be stupid.”

I should fight more. Fight for her. For us. But the wounded, scared, and distant look in her eyes makes me lose hope right now. I don’t ever want her to feel forced to be with me, and as much as it pains me, I need to give her a little bit of space … for a minute.

“You done?” Brandon asks.

My head nods of its own accord, and he hauls me out of her room into the hallway then stands guard in front of the door. The only things I can do are pace and try to fucking think. I talked to her a few hours ago. She was fine. So damn excited about the house. She texted me that she was going to the car to grab the papers. That’s the last clear memory I have. She didn’t come to the dressing room. Besides, I locked the door. I don’t remember getting on the bus. Don’t know if she was there or not. Did she see me stumbling down the halls or something?

What the fuck?

I punch the wall and slide down to the floor, pulling my hat over my eyes. What the hell am I supposed to do? She looked at me as if she hates me. Slapped me and hit me … for fucking what?

Muffled voices slip through the fog my brain is in, and Pierce stands before me. Without a word, I stand and follow him like a dog, but I wish I could go back to talk to my girl. Knowing she doesn’t want to see me … and I don’t know why is the worst feeling in the world.

When I get to Pierce’s car, I slam his door.

“Dude,” he whines. “Man, you reek. Did you swim in liquor or something?”

Fuck. “Nah, I spilled some on me earlier.”

“Where do you want to go?”

I know what he’s asking. My mom or my dad’s place. Neither is a viable option seeing as how I don’t want to deal with anyone right now. I need to be alone and think. Try to figure this out.

“I don’t know.”

“Lee, man. I—”

“I know, all right. I fucking know!” I yell and then take a deep breath. “What the fuck, Pierce?”

“You know I love you like a brother, but there’s no way you’re talking to her tonight. I’ve never seen her like that.”

I rest my forehead against the glove compartment. “Me either,” I whisper. “Is she okay?”

“Doctors said all her vitals are fine. When I left, she said she just wanted to sleep.”

He says nothing else and neither do I. A little while later, he pulls up to my mom’s house. Apparently, he made the decision for me. I feel like I should say something else, but I don’t. And Pierce stays silent as well. Once I shut the door behind me, he drives away and I stand on the front porch of my childhood home.

I don’t have my keys with me, so I ring the doorbell. My mom opens the door and immediately pulls me into her arms. Instead of hugging her back, I just stand there.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Meara. She’s in the hospital.”

Mom gasps and pulls back then touches my cheek. “Is she okay? What happened to your face?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what, Lee? You’re scaring me.”

“I don’t know anything!” I rip my hat from my head and throw it across the room. It lands on one of the end tables and knocks off a small vase. The glass shatters on the floor and I walk over to pick it up.

“Leave it. Talk to me, Liam.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“What’s going on?” My stepfather walks into the room and looks around. “Are you okay? Where’s Jamie?”

“I don’t know!” I roar and flip the table over feeling completely helpless.

“Liam,” Mom yells.

“She refuses to see me or even talk to me. She hit me. I’ve never seen her look so …”

“Maybe you should try to get some sleep. Get a clear head and we can talk in the morning,” James suggests.

“Fuck this.” I pick up my hat and storm out of the house. Sleep. How the hell am I supposed to sleep when my girl is in the hospital? And she hates me for something I don’t know about. Somebody must have told her something about me. That has to be it. But she knows not to believe the lies. Not to read the articles or believe what the posts say.

“Liam, where are you going?” Mom yells as I run down the porch and onto the sidewalk.

“I don’t know!” I yell back and then just keep going.

Jesus, my mind is fucked. All I want is to go see Meara. She fucking hit me. She made a fist and punched me in the face. What the fuck happened?

After walking for a couple of miles, I end up at Meara’s place. I use the hide-a-key and let myself in. Her scent automatically calms me. I grab a bottle of vodka out of her cabinet, slam half of it, and then lie on the top of her bed and allow the blackness to pull me in.

* * *

I shake my dick off after I take a leak and look around again to make sure nobody saw me. Thank God, there are trees in this parking lot. Otherwise, I would have had to piss in a water bottle. After I tuck myself in my pants, I get back in the car. I’ve been sitting in the hotel parking lot for going on seven hours now, waiting for Meara to come back here.

Yes, I’ve resorted to stalking. I don’t give a shit, either. We may have had a long distance relationship, but I’ve never gone longer than a day without some form of communication with her. It’s been almost a week. The morning after I passed out in her bed, she came home with Pierce and he forced me out. She ignores my calls and texts, deletes my emails, and slams the door in my face. Now she’s not even staying at her apartment. To avoid me, her man, she’s staying at a hotel.

Enough is enough. She hates me. I get that part, but what I don’t understand is why. She won’t tell me and I need to know. According to Pierce, she isn’t talking to anybody. Jamie says she probably knows about me doing drugs again, but there’s no way she’d know. I don’t believe him.

Whatever the hell it is, I have to fix it. There’s no other choice. It’s supposed to be her and me against the world. Not her against me. I have to go back to the band for the tour. They can’t buy us any more time. I have a contract so my hands are fucking tied.

My eyes catch in the rearview mirror and it’s obvious something is wrong with me. Blue circles are underneath them, and my face is sunken and pale. I had to wear a belt today because my jeans were so loose they almost fell off. Suppose that’s what happens when you go on a diet of peanut butter sandwiches and vodka.

Headlights flash in the lot, and I recognize her car immediately. Sadly enough, I have a plan. I get out and shut my door before she does. As soon as she walks in the front entrance, I run to the side and use my keycard. I got a room, not only to be able to get in the hotel, but also because I want to be as close to her as I can.

I wait inside around the corner, right next to the vending machine, and as soon as I hear the elevator door close, I run up the stairs. I pause at each landing, waiting to hear a ding to let me know she’s getting out. Exhausted and almost ready to give up, I hear the door ding on the sixth floor and she gets out and heads down the hall. I rest my back against the wall for about three seconds to catch my breath.

Like a ninja, I follow her, tucking myself in alcoves and hiding behind potted plants. When she finally gets to her room, I run and stick my hand in the door right before it slams. Once inside, I let it shut.

She’s already taken her coat off and turns to hang it up when she sees me. Her entire body jerks and she screams. Shock immediately morphs to anger. Eyes squint at me and her arms cross defensively.

“What are you doing? Get out.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” I put my hands in my pockets and lean against the door, not giving her a chance to escape. This is not her. Meara is not an angry person. She’s funny, outgoing, and happy.

“Fuck you, Liam. Don’t think for one second I won’t call the cops.”

I raise an eyebrow, daring her. The outside me shows confidence, but inside I’m quivering in fear. She’s never talked to me like this. Never looked at me with such disgust.

“Better yet. I’ll call Pierce. I’m sure he’d just love to kick your ass.”

She grabs her cell out of her back pocket and slides her dainty finger across the screen. Right before she presses the phone to her ear, Pierce’s face lights up the screen.

She really called him.

I surprise her and run into her space, ripping the phone out of her hand and pressing end, just as Pierce answers. I throw it across the room and wince when the screen shatters on the floor. She eyes the corded phone on the nightstand and trips on her way there, so I dive to grab her and end up on top of her. Her chest is against mine, her face inches away.

“Let me go,” she whispers.

“Never.”

“Please. You’re hurting me.”

“I am not, and you know I never would.”

Her body relaxes against mine, and I let her hands go.

She stares at me. Not loving or thoughtful, but spiteful. “I wish you would have beaten me.”

No response comes out of my mouth, only a billion thoughts invade my mind.
She wishes I had hit her.

She pushes me and turns her back. From this angle, I can see her knees tucked up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. I raise my hand to touch her but pull away. She’s like a wounded animal, and I don’t want to move too fast and chase her away.

“Why would you say that?” I ask, finally able to stand and look at her. “I’d never lay a hand on you, ever.”

Her face doesn’t move to meet mine. Instead, it stays rested on its side, cheek to her knee. “Because at least then the pain would fade away,” she whispers.

“Meara … fuck!” I push my fists into my eye sockets, trying to alleviate some of the pressure building behind them. “What happened?” I kneel in front of her and grab her hands. She tries to pull them away, but my grip is stronger. “Please fucking talk to me, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” She finally lifts her head and looks me in the eye. “You lost that right.”

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