Chapter Fifty-One
Liam
After the paramedics rush my wife to the hospital and the doctors check her over, I just stand and stare at her pale face. The long lashes press against her colorless cheeks, and her hands feel like ice in mine.
It looks so wrong to see her like this. She should be vibrant. Driven and happy that her revenge is almost complete, rather than just…lying there like a drowned ghost.
Not drowned, I correct myself harshly. I pulled her out in time. The baby is probably okay. Has to be okay.
I tighten my hold on her hand, wishing I could go back in time. If I hadn’t looked away… If I’d just gone over and said hello like a civilized man, Tyler would never have had a chance to hurt her.
Please, God. Save her and our baby. I’ll do anything. I won’t even be greedy about wanting her. She already made my place in her world clear. I’ll accept that decision without protest. But…please just save her.
As soon as the doctor tells me Olivia and the baby are out of danger, I lean forward, resting my face in my palms, my elbows propped on my knees. Thank goodness.
I remain like this for a while, until my shaky breathing evens out.
Then I text Simon to come take care of Olivia.
Even though I swore I’d do anything to see her open her eyes and look at me, I don’t know if I can bear it, especially when I know she won’t want me around.
She might have some fondness for a pawn she meant to discard from the beginning.
She might’ve been surprised that the pawn was more useful than she imagined, but is it enough for her to want me to stay?
And do I even want her to keep me, when it would be out of guilt or obligation?
I run my hands over my face. That would be a terrible foundation for any relationship. She’d come to resent me for outliving my usefulness. She might even hate me for sticking around when there’s no place for me in her post-revenge life.
Best to just let her go. I wasn’t simply being selfish when I decided I wanted everything or nothing. I don’t want my presence to be a source of friction between us.
By the time I speak to the hospital’s billing department to ensure they send all bills to me and return to her room, I spot Simon walking inside. It burns me that he can enter like he’s entitled to occupy a space in her life. But he’s the best choice at the moment.
Swallowing the bitterness, I wait by the door until I hear movement and her voice. I can’t make out what she’s saying, but it sounds like she’s out of the woods.
Every muscle in my body tenses with the need to go inside and check for myself. But I know better. If she sees me, her eyes will shutter like they did before. She didn’t have an answer when I said I couldn’t be an extra in her life anymore, and that probably hasn’t changed.
She’s fine. The baby’s fine. That’s what matters.
As for Tyler…
My jaw tightens. What I did to him by the pool was nowhere near enough to make up for his violence against my wife and child.
I told the police I’d be back later to answer whatever questions they have after I was sure my wife was all right.
Jeremiah was at the party, and once the police saw that she was my lawyer, they went along with the idea.
I change out of my wet clothes and into a T-shirt and jeans from the mall and drive to the police station. Whispers buzz from every corner—everyone’s apparently heard about what happened at Ted’s party. So many people pulled out their phones. And of course now it’s probably all over social media.
One of the desk sergeants comes over. “Hey, you’re that guy from the video, right? Here to make a statement?”
I nod. “Where do I go?”
He leads me to the back. I walk into a cramped office with a desk that saw better days twenty-five years ago. A brown-haired detective who looks like he’s suffering from chronic insomnia and a coffee allergy looks at me. “So. You Liam Kingswood?” His voice is surprisingly sharp and clear.
I nod.
“Great. We just need to—”
“Stay away from my client, Steven. You know the drill,” says Jeremiah, walking toward us in a bright scarlet dress. I can see the matching bikini straps over the neckline.
“Come on, Jeremiah. He’s a witness. Besides, he rescued the victim.”
“Her name is Olivia Kingswood, not ‘the victim,’” I say, hating the label. She’s a survivor. People just don’t see the wounds underneath her gorgeous face and calm expression. She deserves respect, not pity.
“No talking,” Jeremiah says to me, then turns to the detective.
“No. You already have statements from Ted, his sons Emmett and Sebastian, numerous other guests I can’t begin to list, and security footage.
It shows that Tyler Mercer not only attempted to strangle my client’s wife, but when that failed, tried to drown her as well. ”
I swivel my head, my vision going hazy red. “He tried to what?!” I only thought he pushed her into the pool. Didn’t know anything about him trying to strangle her. I spin around and stand up. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch!”
A couple of cops step inside to hold me back. When I approach the door, they grab me as a team, one on each arm.
“Let go! Where is he?” I shout.
“What did I say about zipping your mouth?” Jeremiah rolls her eyes and raises a finger in a warning at me. “This isn’t helping Olivia, Liam.”
I clamp my mouth shut, but the fury sits, banked in my belly and ready to erupt. The two officers step back, sharp-eyed and poised to grab me again if necessary.
Finally satisfied, Jeremiah turns to Steven. “Anyway, whatever ‘violence’ Tyler is whining about is nothing more than what he deserved. No jury is going to convict my client, and if Joey Martin bitches about that precious pool again, you can send him to me.”
Steven frowns, first at her, then at me, then at her again. He can sense I’m nowhere near calm. I purposely relax my hands, although my jaw remains tight.
He clears his throat. “He can’t make threats regarding another person like that—”
“Steven,” Jeremiah says. “If some weasel did to your wife what Tyler Mercer did to Olivia Kingswood, you would’ve done the same, then wanted to murder him too.
You wouldn’t, of course, because you’re an honorable officer of the law.
My client is no different. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to speak to him.
You have nothing else to bother him about, do you?
He’s a busy man, and frankly he should be given a medal for his heroic rescue of his wife and remarkable restraint in dealing with Mercer. ”
Steven purses his mouth, but finally sighs and waves us away.
Taking my arm, Jeremiah drags me out of the station, into her Lamborghini and shuts the door. “Now. Breathe. Settle down.”
I want to punch something. “I failed her! I didn’t even know he tried to murder her!”
“He probably didn’t. It looked like a momentary impulse.
I’m pretty sure he snorted something at the party.
You know how it is. He’s nearly bankrupt and wants to escape the pressure and blame someone else for all his troubles.
Refuses to admit that he created the problems for himself.
Prescott’s on his way to handle everything on Olivia’s end.
So—you will do nothing except sit on your hands and keep your mouth shut.
Clear? The more you act out, the harder things will be for Olivia. ”
“But if you think he didn’t mean to kill her”—I choke out the words—“does that mean he gets away? Walks off scot-free?” I should’ve fucking killed him at the pool.
She snorts, then chuckles softly. “Liam, you know me better than that. I’ll do what I can to ensure he’s charged with attempted murder—not just of Olivia, but your unborn baby as well. A twofer.” She smiles, her eyes cold.
“I want him ruined. Fucked.”
“Oh, he already is,” she says with satisfaction. “And he just fucked Hugh, too. You see, Olivia wanted to cut them off using the baby, but now she probably doesn’t even need to wait until the baby’s born.”
Jeremiah’s cool, nearly gleeful words hit me like a live wire. “What?”
“She can likely use the trust’s bad-actor clause to cut them all off.
Tyler is Brielle’s legally wedded husband, and he should’ve known that he could never, ever touch Olivia under the terms of the trust. If John Highsmith—that bastard is the trustee, if you didn’t know—drags his feet, I’ll light a bonfire under his bony ass,” Jeremiah says.
Her distaste for and rivalry with Highsmith’s firm is legendary.
So Olivia will get exactly what she wanted. And she won’t need to wait for eight more months.
Part of me is glad that she’ll get her justice more quickly. But I can’t stop sorrow from welling in my heart—because our baby might end up being as superfluous as I am in her life now.