Ryker #2
She removes her finger from my chest. Liam appears at the top of the stairs with two full bags flung over each shoulder.
He trudges down, knocking picture frames off the wall.
They shatter, and he crunches over the glass.
They contain photographs of Freddie and Keegan.
She’s been quick to remove her engagement ring and continue whatever she’s doing with her stepbrother, but the photos on the walls are all still of them.
I know there’s a snow globe of them in the living room and have a savage urge to open it up and tear the picture of them in two.
I’d keep Freddie, but screw Keegan into a ball then toss her away.
“I’m done,” Liam says, and Keegan squawks as she dives into the living room to avoid being pulverised by one of the bags as he passes us.
Liam leaves through the open door without apology or a glance back.
“What about his running machine? His TV and his food processor,” Keegan says.
Part of me wants to take those things, not for Freddie as such, but to make sure Keegan doesn’t have them, that she or Ben won’t get any use out of them. But we’ve got a running machine, a TV, and a state-of-the-art food processor at home.
Freddie can have ours; he can have our everything.
“And then there’s that busted-up lawn mower in the shed.”
“Goodbye, Keegan,” I say, and I pull the door shut by the letter box.
Liam’s thrown the bags into the back, and now he waits behind the wheel, stiffening and relaxing his jaw. Rather than get back into my car, I climb into his, grimacing at the news I have to break.
“What is it?” Liam asks.
I don’t stall, I speak, and Liam grows visibly paler.
“Freddie’s dad was here. He was here, and Freddie was shaken up and he reached out to us, and we weren’t there for him.
I thought it might’ve just been us bailing on being his best men that he hated us for, but he’s been stressed about work, thinks he might lose his job, and then his dad was in his house, waiting for him at the dinner table. ”
“Fuck,” Liam hisses. He punches the wheel. “That’s why he’s like a loaded spring at the moment.”
“We messed up,” I say. “We messed up more than I thought we had, and I already thought it was pretty messy, but . . .” I press both of my palms to the dashboard.
“We’re going to talk tonight. We’re going to explain why we acted like arseholes, properly, without his cock in my hand or your mouth, and he’s finally going to vent about his dad and tell us what’s been happening. ”
The skin beneath Liam’s left eye twitches.
“What?” I ask him.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s really helpful.”
He starts the engine. “Let’s get over there.”
“We’re going to be hours too early.”
“I don’t care,” Liam replies. “I’m good at waiting.”
I sigh as I get out of Liam’s car, then jog over to mine.
He’s eager to get going and takes off before I’ve even got the key in the ignition.
Freddie’s car is not in the car park.
We’ve parked up outside the factory, and I’ve gotten back into Liam’s car.
I wish I hadn’t. His teeth grinding makes me want to gag.
Freddie isn’t here, and at first I calmed Liam down by telling him Freddie had probably nipped out to get something for a late lunch .
. . an hour later I tell him Freddie’s probably gone out for an early dinner and is wolfing down a pizza someplace close by.
But as time ticks on, it becomes apparent that Freddie isn’t returning.
“He got a half day too . . . or a whole day,” I sigh.
“He knew we would come here to get him.”
“Jeeez.” I shake my head. “Can you make it sound any more like a kidnapping?”
“This is serious, Ryker. We don’t know where he is.”
“He said we’d talk tonight, and I trust him. Hell, he might’ve driven over to ours already.”
“Or driven far away,” Liam murmurs. “What if it’s caught up with him?”
“What’s this ‘it’s’ you speak of?”
“Us, all over him. He’s straight, and he’s broken up with his fiancée, and we keep touching him. What if he freaked the fuck out and ran?”
I hadn’t thought of that.
“This is why I wanted to handcuff him to the radiator this morning.”
“It’s illegal, Liam.”
“It’s worth the prison time if we can stop him from freaking out.”
“I’ll call him,” I say, but of course the call goes unanswered.
Liam shakes the wheel. “His dad. What the hell was she thinking?”
The change in topic comes as a surprise. Liam’s spiralling.
“Maybe she thought she was doing something nice.”
“You’re defending her?”
“No,” I snap. “I’m answering your question.”
Liam deflates with a long sigh, like he’s got a slow puncture. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But I keep thinking about that day he turned up on the doorstep when you were in Tenerife. He pretended he happened to be nearby, acted all normal, but . . .”
Liam folds all the way over until he’s half hugging, half hanging from the steering wheel.
“But?” I press.
“That damn rucksack,” Liam says. “He had it over his shoulder. Do you remember when we were kids and he used to knock on our door and ask if he could sleep over? He’d be smiling but it never reached his eyes, and there was always a faint tremor going through him.”
“I remember,” I whisper.
“And we both knew he only came over like that on the worst nights. He never told us about them, but you could see how haunted he looked, how he’d protect his body like he’d already been hurt. We’d ask Mum and Dad, and they’d always say yes because they knew too.”
“The relief on his face when we said he could.”
Liam nodded. “One night would turn to two, then three, four, five, and when finally his mum came to get him, we’d say to each other that we’d never turn him away and one day we’d keep him for good.”
I close my eyes.
“I turned him away, Ryker. I shut the door in his face. What if he’s gone?”
“He hasn’t.”
“You said he was having problems at work.” Liam leans up to stare at the building in front of us. “What if he’s been fired or quit and he’s taken off? What if, even with my police resources and your network of friends, we can’t find him?”
“He said we’d talk tonight, and I believe him, Liam. I still believe him. I think we should wait until eight to be sure, then drive back to ours and see if he’s there.”
“And if he’s not?”
For once, I choose silence as my answer.