21. Few Truths and a Thousand Lies #4
I’m under no illusions about my desire to protect Liam. Or that I’m attracted to him. But the heat of that smile is making itself a home in my chest, digging itself a nice little burrow and decking the place out cottagecore.
I want to keep it. I want to keep him.
So I look down, concentrate on my food, and wonder how to broach the next thing with him.
How to ask him to stop. Really, to quit.
I know money is an issue, and I can’t take employment away from him, for goodness’ sake.
But he can’t be going through this, reliving this loss of his brother, this tragedy that’s happened to his family.
He needs to get out. Get clear. Get a job with a decent company that doesn’t send damaged men into places they’re going to be psychologically tormented by ghouls from other worlds.
“I’m going to kill it,” he says out of nowhere, grabbing his beer to wash down a mouthful of pie.
Then he places the glass down and meets my gaze.
“Tell Simon I’m bringing the gun into the house tomorrow.
I’ll keep it hidden from him until I get upstairs if it upsets him to see it.
Then I’m going straight into the attic, and I’m going to kill that thing. ”
So much for convincing him to quit. Still, I attempt, “Liam, I don’t think you should do that.”
He shuts me down with a firm shake of his head. “I’m not letting anyone else go through this. If that’s what it’s doing to me, making me see shit like that, what’s it going to do to people who have been through worse? I’m not letting it get away with this. I’m putting it down. Once and for all.”
Okay, so I’m not going to deny that this is actually super hot. Super hot. The thought of Liam in my house, with his gun, delivering divine justice. I’m down. Down bad. Too bad.
Too bad for me and for him that I need to stop this, and fast. There’s no telling what that thing will put him through if it’s actually threatened.
“Maybe it would be better if—”
“I’m so glad I talked to you,” he says at the same time, eyes bright, the most gorgeous spark of determination in them. “I’m so relieved you… you explained it all. I was so worried about him.”
I explained? What exactly did I explain?
He laughs, slightly bashful, and I feel bad. So bad. Because I have the worst feeling I know what’s coming.
“Now I know what I’m really dealing with. Which is exactly what I’ll need for a career like this going forward.”
“Career?” I mumble out.
“Career,” he repeats. “I never realised how complex it all was. But there’s this whole other world out here. There could be things like this creature causing problems all over the planet. I can really make a difference. I can do the right thing. Help people. Starting with you.”
What have I created? I’m supposed to be talking him into quitting, not inspiring him to make this his lifelong personal and professional passion.
I need to shut this down. Put a full stop. Not let this go any further. “Listen, about tomorrow…”
“What about it?” Fuck, he looks so excited. So hopeful. So stupidly hot.
“I think… it would be…”
He nods, tracking my every word and micro expression like it’s make or break.
“I think it would be good if…”
I can’t do this.
Look at him. I can’t fire this guy.
You can and you will.
“I think it would be… I think I should…”
How best to put it?
Finally, I blurt out, “I’d like to take you home.”
Yeah. That’s the right track. Gentle, but to the point.
“Home?” he says, both eyebrows shooting up, and it’s only fair this might come as a surprise.
“Home,” I repeat. “I think it’s best if we… go home now.” Maybe once he’s got another decade of ghost experience under his belt, he can come back. But for now, “I need to take you home.”
“Oh.” His brow furrows. His eyes drop, scan the table, then rise back up to me. “Right now?”
My brow mirrors his, a touch of confusion there. “Is that… is that okay?”
“Um… yeah.” There’s something nervous about the way he rubs his hands over his knees. But not the I-just-got fired kind of nervous. Something else… His eyes fly up to the massive faux-antique clock on the wall. “But… it’s late…”
“I’m in no rush to get back to my haunted house,” I try to assure him with a nervous laugh. “I’ve honestly got all night.”
“Oh,” he says again. “Oh.” That lovely pink floods his cheeks. “So… just to be clear… you wanted to…” Lips pressing. Very nice lips in a very handsome face. “Take me home?”
Phew. Glad we got that out.
“Yeah. Yeah, I would.”
“Um. My place?”
Where else?
I drop a small breath, trying to figure out what I’m missing here. “Yes?”
“Okay. Um. Okay. Let’s…” He laughs lightly, only growing pinker. “Let’s go, then.”
Odd the way he balls his fists like that when he stands up. Odd the shy smile he passes across. Odd the way he waits for me, his body so close to mine. Kind of… not looking like a guy who just got fired.
It’s almost like…
No. No, I think I was clear.
I’m taking him home. The end. No more story after this. It all ends here.
Yeah, that was a good way to do it. Subtle but friendly. To the point but soft. Professional yet amiable.
That’s definitely the way to fire someone.
Right?