Chapter 17 Liam
Chapter seventeen
Liam
‘Where were you both just now?’ I ask venomously as I spit the question at Vish.
I give one ounce of a shit that he is supposed to be one of my closest friends, all I want to know is why he was with my girl — at night.
They have a past, something that was very clear to everyone who saw them together back at the school, so what are his plans now?
And why did she look like she’d been crying.
‘We were having a blether.’
So whilst I was out there, in the dark, looking through rows of books at the Mitchel, hand picking out which ones looked like they could be the most relevant to Isla’s pregnancy journey, he was out playing catch-up with her.
After spotting Isla’s list of wants and fears, one idea had overcome me, and I’d quickly packed a bag, picked up my knives, shoved on a set of knuckle dusters and exited the stadium.
It didn’t take me long to get to the library but spending most of my time lost, not knowing where to find the maternity rows underneath the several years of dust that had collected there I’d spent most of my time being a duster more than anything else.
I can still feel it tickling my nostrils.
And this entire time Vish was moving in on my girl.
He spins on his heels, not taking any notice of me and walking away.
I growl.
Vish looks over his shoulder, his eyebrow arched as if to say, Did I really just hear that?
‘What are you playing at?’ I ask.
If he’s trying to make a move on her I will end him, best friend or not.
He sighs, continuing to walk away from me and I snap — enough of his bullshit games. Gripping the back of his neck, I squeeze, ripping his body backwards so that I have enough leverage to slam his back against the wall.
‘You’ve got it bad,’ he chuckles but I see nothing funny with how he’s acting right now. Come to think of it I’m seconds away from wiping that smug look clean from his face.
‘Liam, what the fuck?’ A scolding voice sounds from behind me and I’d know it anywhere. Ruaridh.
Vish tuts, ‘see you’ve gone and ruined the beginning of his honeymoon.’
Fauna stands at Ru’s side in a t-shirt that is too large on her and the noticeably absent t-shirt from Ru’s bare chest proves Vish’s point. Ruaridh’s gaze looks murderous, whereas Fauna’s looks well and truly amused, her eyes twinkling in the oil burners' light.
I release the prick, straightening to try and explain myself. But what’s there to say? I saw him with my girl, who happens to be your little sister — the one I got pregnant, yep that one — and I saw red. Because that’ll go down so well.
‘They’re just sorting some things out, come on.’ Fauna gives me some mercy, taking pity on my vibrating with rage body as she tugs her psychopathic boyfriend back into his room.
Ru goes, too fixated on his girl to remember why he’d even came out to shout at us in the first place.
‘Better get that jealousy sorted out, man. Green isn’t a good colour on you.’ Vish grins and with that, the prick steps away, backing up into his room, leaving me staring at glitter name tags attached to the hallway of doors.
I step over to mine, feeling the exhaustion from the past two days events wash over me, pulling me down, but as I look at my door, a pang of sadness hits me as I can’t help but feel a name is missing that should be right there next to mine.
With a lump in my chest, I continue down the hallway, away from my girl and to the exit of the stadium.
‘You alright, pal?’ Kit asks, perched on watch. ‘You goin oot again?’
‘Aye, lad. Need to blow off some steam.’
‘Yer going to get yerself in trouble.’
Too right I am, but I couldn’t give a shit right now. I need to be away from the agony of feeling so alone that comes with being in that empty room. How can a man sleep well when his family is holed up on a sofa bed all alone?
I wave Kit off, needing him to open the gates and be done with it.
‘How long?’ He asks.
The kids got a good heart and is a hard worker so I try to push down my frustration with everything.
It’s not his fault the universe is fucking with me by showing the woman of my dreams — who is pregnant with my child — having late-night chats with my best mate, who seems pretty fucking pally with her.
They have history, I know it and it terrifies me.
I shrug, cracking my knuckles. ‘A while.’
The night air is cool on my skin, its winter bite still lingering into spring.
It has nothing on the winter just gone — now that was a bitch. The piles of snow would have been beautiful if the image hadn’t brought utter terror with it every time I saw what it could mean.
All those restless nights I spent wondering what had happened to Isla.
The worry I felt was that she would be lying hurt or worse.
Fuck. Not knowing almost destroyed me. But now I feel a different sort of heartache.
A strange one I can’t quite figure out. I’m relieved she is here, that I have finally found her, but conflicted because well… she doesn’t seem to feel the same.
I need to be patient. That is all.
The moon is high above me, lighting the way as I turn down the street. Behind me, I feel the gaping hole of the subway entrance watching me, beckoning me closer, but I ignore it — best to leave that fight for another day.
Instead, I walk with no particular aim in mind. I’d heard whispers of a street fight location around Govan somewhere, maybe today's the day I find it.
And of course, like a moth drawn to a flame, I do.