Chapter Thirty
The days Liam spent keeping an eye on the Nymans eased by.
Chance came back to help, assuring Liam that his other commitments were taken care of, and Chelsea went about her work without so much as a passing mention of them in bed—or rather, on the couch.
Which was probably best for all when he considered her face when he’d kissed her goodbye.
She didn’t want to see him. Or maybe she did.
Either way, Liam didn’t care for how the subject was never to be discussed again.
Maybe he would broach the topic of them later that day. It was the first time he’d be back at her condo, and it would also be the first time they were alone… and sitting where they’d fucked as he never had before…
The DJ on the radio gave another shout to the throwbacks, and Liam’s irritation pivoted to aggravation. How the hell do my favorite bands qualify for old-school shout-outs? It was as if the DJ who’d dedicated the day to throwbacks wanted to remind Liam that time never stopped.
He pinched the bridge of his nose then pulled a U-turn. Chelsea knew he’d be by later, but he wanted to see her now.
“Call Chelsea Kilpatrick,” he ordered the Bluetooth.
But she didn’t answer, and her voicemail box was filled.
Liam ended the call, still driving her direction. She’d be into the surveillance equipment, and he’d be into… her.
“Shit.” He blew out his cheeks but still drove toward her condo.
As he pulled into her complex, his sour mood lifted enough to wipe away his impatient irritation at nothing that he could pinpoint.
Then the corners of his mouth tipped up.
Will a bag of military-grade surveillance equipment feel like Christmas morning to Chelsea too?
Liam hit the brakes.
“What the…?” Stopped in the middle of the street, he leaned closer to the windshield as if he couldn’t see through it. “Hell.”
The lights were on in Julia’s bedroom windows, illuminated by the darkening fall sky.
Julia had shared a two-bedroom condo with another woman named Maxine. They’d seen each other at the recent remembrance, and he recalled Maxine talking with Linda and Chelsea.
But the last time he’d heard, Linda hadn’t moved Julia’s things out, and not ready to box Julia’s life up, she’d paid rent for the room.
He pulled the Explorer into the closest parking space, threw open the door, and got out. His molars ground together as he slammed the Explorer shut and then raced across the parking lot.
His temples pounded as he ran up the stairs, but Liam held back from tearing off her front door when he heard laughter.
His hostility was rattled, but he threw the door open. Maxine, Linda, and Chelsea jumped. Linda pressed a hand to her chest. Maxine’s mouth gaped, and Chelsea nearly threw herself over Linda like Secret Service might protect the President.
When Chelsea saw it was him, she glared.
“You scared the daylights out of us!” Linda cried.
He tried to be grateful that Chelsea had thrown herself in front of Linda to protect her from an unknown assault, but he couldn’t see past wondering what they were doing.
“Did you come to help box up?” Maxine asked.
Linda guiltily stammered out an explanation, which he couldn’t hear past the noise in his head. Box up?
Complete tunnel vision—that was what he had. The contents of Julia’s bedroom were stacked in boxes behind the women. He charged by and stopped in the kitchen. A pile of ice was melting in the sink. He pulled open a cabinet door. “It’s empty.”
“Liam,” Chelsea called, sounding miles away.
“I’m moving out,” Maxine said. “I’m sorry.”
He charged out of the kitchen and went to Julia’s bedroom. His limbs went cold and the past shattered as he stood at the doorway.
The sheets were stripped off the bed. The mattress and box spring leaned against the wall. Julia’s bedroom was neatly dismantled.
“I’m sorry,” Linda whispered.
He spun. “Why?”
“I’m moving,” Maxine said quietly.
“It had to be done,” Linda added.
Over the past year, time sometimes felt slow. Like a day was a decade. Then so much had happened in the past few weeks. He wanted the changes to stop, not caring how bland the world became. “Guess so.”
He didn’t listen when the three women spoke at the same time and left them to be. Chelsea’s voice called for him again, but he didn’t stop until he closed the front door of the condo and rushed into the parking lot.
The cold fall air didn’t help cool him down. The sky tried to suffocate him with its gloom as he hustled to his Explorer.
“Wait!” Chelsea yelled.
Dammit, he didn’t want to talk, but the hurt in her voice resonated.
He shook his head, offering an apology she couldn’t hear then closed himself inside his vehicle.
Julia was disappearing. Sometimes he was certain he couldn’t remember the exact sound of her voice. Maybe this was punishment for what had happened with Chelsea.