17 | Liam
Liam
It’s still early in the morning, and even though the sky is bright, I know Jessica’s shift is just about to start.
Normally, I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of leaving my cousin—I guess "brother" would be more fitting to call him... Anyway, I wouldn’t even think about leaving him alone in the state he’s in, but I can't seem to get my own thoughts in order either.
I am desperate for a moment away from this house and the energy surrounding it.
Mike is still in the same spot where I left him, and Nathan has left the house, probably to send the samples for the DNA test to our lawyer.
I am considering the possibility of Mike killing Mary while both myself and his boyfriend are away, but currently, it doesn’t seem like much of an issue to me—which is exactly why I need to get away from this house.
If my mind suddenly thinks "murder is not that big of a deal" in broad daylight, we have a problem.
Especially considering this woman probably gave birth to us.
I should really have some feelings about her upcoming death, yet here I am thinking it would be easier if he just killed her already so we could move on with our day.
I am starting to turn into Mike, while he seems to be taking my anxiety and making it his own.
I wonder how it took us hunting this woman to realize we are not cousins, but brothers.
The clues were there. We look alike, think alike, and feel each other’s emotions to the max.
Why on earth neither of us ever considered the possibility is ridiculous.
How do you spend your whole damn life living beside your twin brother and not realize the face you see every day—the one that feels so familiar—is like that because it mirrors your own?
Obviously, I wasn’t planning to go to the diner today. Well, at least not after Mary’s confession in the maze. However, after a few hours cooped up in this house with Mike and basement-Mary, I need to get out. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
I grab my keys and jacket, and pet my dog on my way toward the basement. I need to inform Loopy Mike that I’ll be out. In case it fits his plan and he wants to get rid of the woman, to do all of us a favor.
“I’m going out,” I announce to him.
He doesn’t seem to register what I said, or even notice my presence.
He’s staring at the knife in his hand, toying with the blade while he mumbles something.
I have only seen him in this state once before: the night after the fire, when we learned that no one survived.
We already had our suspicions, but hearing the news broke him.
He took all the blame into his soul and turned it into a million knives piercing him all at once.
I tried to reason with him. I even tried to comfort him.
I wasn’t much help, though, especially since I was feeling the exact same way.
Because that fire was on me as much as it was on him.
I’m not sure if I should leave him alone, but I need a moment away from this.
Even though I consider staying for a long minute—sucking it up and remaining here—I decide it’s best to take the basement keys with me and get the fuck out of this house.
I quickly step back, lock the door, and take the keys with me.
He looks at me but doesn’t say a word. Not to me, at least. He just continues murmuring sounds that don't even make sense.
I walk toward the front door, trying to keep myself from looking back in case my kinder side decides to take over and make me turn around.
I open the door, step outside, and close it behind me—all without a single glance at what I’m leaving behind.
Because I know what I’m leaving behind: my brother in an awful mental state, my biological mother waiting for her death, and a dog who’s oblivious to everything his owners are going through.
I get on my motorcycle and put my helmet on.
The road is wet from the rain, and the scent of it fills my lungs as I drive to the diner.
It’s still early, and I know Jessica will be opening right now.
She’s the one who opens the place most days of the week, and the one who closes, too.
She does way more than she’s paid for, that’s for sure.
Sometimes I wonder if she knows how much more she deserves.
I usually avoid arriving this early. The fact that the place is empty for the first few hours of the day—aside from a few regulars—makes it hard to blend in.
But today, I need to see her. I need her more than any other day.
I need her taste on my lips. It’s not even a desire anymore; it’s just a need.
I arrive just in time to see her struggling to open the front door. Her keys slip from her hand, and she curses under her breath. I smile, because that’s a side of her I haven’t seen much, and I like it when she lets her less polished side peak through.
She hasn’t seen me yet as I approach from behind. I contemplate waiting for her to notice me, but decide against it.
“Good morning, Jessica,” I say, forcing a smile. Who would even have the strength for a genuine one after the night I’ve had? But she doesn’t know that, and she doesn’t deserve the burden of my problems.
She turns around, her body pressing against mine. I feel her breath brush my lips, and the look in her eyes switches from fear to lust in a matter of seconds. She smiles, and even though I’m significantly taller, her eyes lock onto mine as she looks up, never breaking contact.
“Good morning. You’re early—we haven't opened yet. But I’m sure I can make you a coffee until the cook arrives, maybe see if there’s a leftover piece of pie.
” The words spill from her lips fast and anxious, as if she’s trying to cover up how I make her feel.
I like that—the idea that my presence affects her.
“No problem; I can help you open,” I offer, taking a step forward until her back is pressed against the door.
I can't help myself; I run my fingers over the bare skin of her thigh beneath her uniform. She takes a deep breath, but it isn’t one of fear.
She doesn’t pull away from my touch. Instead, she places her hand over mine, pressing it softly against her skin and guiding it further up her skirt.
She grabs the fabric of my t-shirt, pulling me closer, and I feel her lips on mine.
Her taste invades me, as sweet as her scent.
She always smells of strawberry and vanilla with a hint of flowers—a delicious combination that makes me lust after her even more.
Her kiss is gentle yet passionate, and she moans against my lips as I grab her ass and press her body against my hard dick.
We’re still standing in front of the diner’s door, but neither of us cares.
I lift her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist, grinding against me through our clothes.
Suddenly, I hear someone approaching from the back, forcing us to break the kiss as her feet hit the ground. I take two steps back, putting distance between us. She straightens her uniform and wipes her lips. “Good morning, Alan,” she greets the cook.
I curse his timing in my head, but turn around and offer my hand to the approaching man. “Hello, I’m Liam. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Sorry for the inconvenience—I had a rough night, and your coffee and pie seem like the best remedy,” I joke.
He shakes my hand, nodding in agreement.
Jessica unlocks the door, and Alan steps inside first, flipping on the lights. I see Jessica blush, realizing this is the first time she’s hearing my name.
Naughty girl, letting strangers fuck her up in secret without even asking for a name.
She turns to me and says softly, “Nice to meet you, Liam.”
I follow her inside as she points toward my usual booth. I take a seat without saying another word.
Nice to meet you too, baby.