Chapter 34 Emma
EMMA
“I like Daddy a lot, Mama,” Laddie whispers as I tuck him in for the night.
It’s his first week in his own room, stretched out in Talia’s huge bed, and even though he spent all day bragging about being “totally a big kid now,” he looks so terribly small in it.
I swear he had a big growth spurt just in the past few days, and yet when I put him in this adult-size bed, he’s my little baby all over again.
I kiss my son on the forehead and stroke his hair.
“I’m glad you like him,” I tell him softly. “He’s your dad. And he likes you a whole lot, too.”
He thinks about that for a second, blinking up at me with those big green eyes.
“Do you like him?” he asks.
The question is innocent enough, but it hits me quite heavily. I feel my throat close up, and tears well up in my eyes. I push my lips together and breathe through my nose, trying to hold back the strange emotions I feel.
I nod.
“I do,” I say. “I like him a lot. I always have, since I was very young.”
“Do you want him to be your boyyyfriend?”
He drags out the last word in a goofy voice, then immediately dissolves into giggles, burying his face in the pillow. He’s suddenly very fascinated and embarrassed by anything he perceives as “kissy.”
“Bro,” I say, tapping his nose with my finger. “Mind your business.”
He giggles harder, kicking his feet under the blankets.
I read him a quick bedtime story, which usually settles him.
“Sleep tight, my sunshine.” I place a kiss on his forehead.
He curls up with his stuffed lion tucked under his chin and demands the door be left cracked—“only a little, Mama, not too much”—so I fix it exactly how he likes.
I try not to think about the fact that he’s likely to wake up in a dead panic in about two hours. He’s had terrible nightmares since the night he was kidnapped.
I pad out to the living room and find Liam on the couch, feet up on the coffee table as he watches ESPN sports highlights.
“You look awfully comfortable,” I say, raising an eyebrow at his socked feet on my table. “Like you live here or something.”
Liam’s whole body jolts. His feet drop to the floor, and he straightens immediately, posture going stiff and uncertain.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I can go.”
He starts to get up, but I put a hand on his arm. “It’s fine. I think…I think I’m ready to talk.”
He hesitates, searching my face for any sign I might change my mind.
Then he slowly lowers himself back onto the couch.
I take a seat right next to him and hold out a hand.
He takes it without hesitation.
His thumb makes slow, instinctive circles against my skin, a simple, familiar motion that knocks something loose in my chest.
For the first time in weeks, it feels like we’re not tiptoeing around each other.
“In a couple of hours, he’s going to wake up screaming,” I say quietly, glancing toward the cracked door down the hall. “It’s happened every night since… everything.”
“I’m sorry,” Liam says, exhaling with guilt written on his face. “I’m so sorry, Emma. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shake my head. “I have them, too. It’s always the same, that feeling of coming home and finding them gone, you know? That was the scariest moment of my life, Liam. Scarier than running into that house. Scarier than the gunfire. Scarier than everything.”
“I can’t even imagine,” he says, and there is anger at himself. I know how much he blames himself for everything that happened, and I can’t absolve him from it.
“I’ve spent the past six months trying to talk myself out of blaming you for what happened,” I say. “And logically, I know it wasn’t your fault.”
“It was—”
I hold up a hand. “It was your dad’s addiction.
Your dad’s debt. And you paid a huge price trying to fix it.
None of that is on you. You’re a good person who tried to help your parents.
And the Brownings?” I shake my head. “They didn’t see you as a son trying to survive.
They saw you as a paycheck. That isn’t your fault either. ”
He takes a long, shaky breath. “Emma… I’m so sorry you, Talia, and Laddie got dragged into this.
If I could go back in time, I would’ve done everything differently.
I would’ve walked away the minute I saw you at the hospital.
I would’ve been happy knowing you were okay, and I would’ve stayed away until all of this was over.
And if it never ended…” His voice breaks.
“Then I would’ve stayed away forever. That would’ve been better for you. ”
I want to tell him he’s being dramatic, but I can’t. Not when I know he means every word. Not when I’ve seen how much he hates himself for all of this.
For now, I need him to look at me and understand that he doesn’t have to carry this alone anymore.
So I move onto his lap, cupping his face between my hands when he tries to glance away. His breath catches, his hands settling at my hips like he’s afraid to hold too tight.
“Liam,” I try steadying myself. “Look at me.”
His eyes finally meet mine.
“I love you,” I say. “I always have. I never stopped. Even when I tried to move on, even when I told myself it was over… There was always this ache from missing you.”
A tear slips down his cheek, and I wipe it away with my thumb.
“You’re a good man,” I continue softly. “A good person. All the way through. And you deserve good things, Liam. You deserve a life that isn’t weighed down by your parents’ mistakes. You deserve to breathe. To start over. To have everything you dreamed of without guilt dragging you backward.”
“This is your chance,” I whisper. “Right now. To build the life you wanted. To be the player I always believed you could be. To step into something better than what you came from.”
“I don’t want any of that without you and Laddie,” he says, and his voice is hoarse.
I understand what he wants. He’s been very clear and persistent about it. And I have my own guilt to overcome, too, don’t I? I was the one who walked away, who took away his opportunity to watch Laddie grow. He missed almost six years of our son’s life because I made a decision for him.
“I’m sorry for what I did,” I say. “More than you know, I’m sorry. You should have had the right to make your own choice about what you wanted. I just… I wanted you to get out. I wanted you to go be your brilliant self, and I didn’t want my choice to impact your future.”
“I know,” he says, and his beautiful green eyes are bright and soulful as he looks at me.
“This is all so messed up,” I say. “I don’t even know where we’re supposed to go from here.”
“It’s not,” he says quietly, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment.
His hands tighten at my hips, fingers curling into the thin cotton of my pajama pants, and heat rolls low in my belly.
“It’s not messed up anymore, Em. Yeah, we’ve got stuff to sort out…
but that future you talked about? It isn’t just yours.
It’s ours. We don’t have to do any of this alone.
I don’t want to do it alone. Not anymore. Not without you.”
I don’t even notice I’m crying until the tears drip down my lips.
And I’m smiling through them, like some kind of emotional disaster.
“I want a life with you,” he whispers, pulling me against him, his lips brushing my cheek. “I want you. So badly. Please, Emma… I want a life with you.”
He keeps saying it, like he’s afraid everything will disappear if he stops.
And with every repetition, my heart softens.
Drops its guard.
Reaches for him.
My hips move without me thinking, my body answering his.
His hands slip under the waistband of my pajama bottoms, fingertips finding the flesh of my hips, coaxing, urging.
A shiver races through me, hot and electric.
My fingers tangle in his hair, sliding down to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as his mouth trails soft, aching kisses along my jaw.
“I want you so badly,” he murmurs.
“I’m yours.”
The words slip out of me unexpectedly.
Liam freezes for one breath, looking up at me. I’m still crying, but it’s not from sadness anymore, it’s something else entirely. Relief. Want. Hope.
I nod, and that’s all it takes.
He surges up and kisses me hard and desperately, and then softer until we’re breathing the same shaky breath, our bodies pressed so close there’s no room left for doubt.
I can’t wait, not after everything we’ve been holding back.
I lift my hips, kissing him through the whole clumsy scramble of trying to get my pajama bottoms off. The fabric stretches and bunches awkwardly, and we both giggle under our breath.
We break apart just long enough to strip, and then I am straddling him again. He pulls a blanket over us, clearly worried that Laddie might wake up and wander out.
And then I slide down onto him, taking him inside me in a long, slow stretch that knocks the air from both our lungs. He fills me as I ride him. Our moans lost among hungry mouths, teeth, and hands.
I slip my hand under his T-shirt, feeling the heat of his body, the tight muscles shifting under my palms. His hands roam up my back, unclasp my bra, then shove my shirt and bra up so that his mouth can find my sensitive, tight nipples.
“Oh, Liam,” I breathe, the words breaking apart. “Oh… fuck… Liam.”
He groans into my skin, his hands guiding my hips, anchoring me.
“I love you,” he murmurs. “Oh, Em, I love you.”
The heat builds fast, climbing, coiling low in my belly, spreading everywhere.
“Come for me,” he whispers, lifting his head, forehead against mine. “Fuck, baby. Come for me.”
I tighten my hips around him and pick up the pace, rolling my body against his. Liam groans and slips his tongue into my mouth as his fingers dig into the bare skin of my back, holding me close.
When the orgasm tears through me, it is powerful and lustful, impossible to contain. I gasp into his mouth, the sound muffled as he swallows it, kissing me harder and deeper.
I stay still, trembling, riding out every last wave. And when it finally begins to fade, the hunger flares again. I move my hips, slower this time but more deliberate, chasing the edge until it breaks again—another sharp, breathtaking climax that makes my whole body shake.
“Fuck. Yeah, Emma,” Liam curses under his breath, pulling me tight against him. His mouth crashes into mine, needy and rough. He loses control, his cock pulsing, throbbing, emptying into me. He holds me through every last pulse, every last shiver, breathing hard against my neck.
For a moment, we’re still. Quiet. Wrapped in heat and sweat and the kind of intimacy that rattles something deep inside me.
The gaze in his eyes says we’re not even close to being done.
He lifts me up with his hard cock still in me, hard enough to make my breath catch. My legs cling around his hips instinctively as he starts walking, carrying me down the hallway in the dim light.
“Liam…” I whisper, breathless.
He kisses me slowly, confidently, and hungrily as he pushes the bedroom door open with his shoulder.
When he sets me on the bed, he’s looking at me like the night has barely started.
“Em, I just want to know that you’re so fucking scrumptious.”