horrible as that is in itself. What kind of monster could do that and more to his child? I want to embrace him, tell him he’s even stronger than I thought, but I can’t. Not here.
His watery eyes focus on me. “They’ll look at you differently too. They’ll wonder what kind of woman wants a man with my twisted history.”
He gets up and punches the wall, his fists getting bloodier.
“Liam, stop. You need your hands to play.”
“Fuck my hands.” He hits the wall. “Fuck Don.” He hits it again. “Fuck my pathetic life.”
I helplessly watch the man I love completely fall apart. With each punch, he utters dark, hateful words punctuated by sobs so painful, they make me want to kill Don with my bare hands.
Liam stops and leans against the windowsill in exhaustion.
My phone vibrates. It’s Crew; he’s outside. “I’m going downstairs for a minute. Promise me you won’t hurt your hands while I’m gone.”
He grunts and sits on the floor. “Bring the gas up with you.”
I meet Crew at the door. “Thank you for this,” I say, grabbing his purchases.
“Want me to come with?”
“I’m not sure. Do you think you can wait outside? Maybe guard the gas can, just in case?”
“I’ll put it in my car and be right here if you need me.”
I shut the door, go back upstairs, and put the things in the hallway.
Liam says, “Where’s the gas?”
“I have a better idea. Something that might be just as satisfying but won’t land you in jail.”
I show him what I brought: a crowbar, an axe, and a sledgehammer. I hold out the axe. He lunges toward me. “Hell yes.”
“Wait,” I say and give him a pair of work goggles before putting on mine.
He swings the axe into the wall with a satisfying crack of wood and drywall. He does it four more times before switching to the sledgehammer. He pounds the wall and swings at the ceiling fan, sending it to the other side of the room, shattered.
He uses the crowbar to pry up some of the floorboards and then the axe to splinter the rest. By the time he’s finished, we’re in a shell of a room.
“Which one do you want to do next?”
He crosses the hallway to Luke’s room. “Want to take the first swing?”
I pick up the axe. “You bet your life I do.”
We spend the next hour tearing out every piece of drywall from the three bedrooms upstairs. Every light fixture is smashed, each cabinet desecrated. Even the studs are mostly gone, except the ones supporting the roof. All that’s left are wires, pipes, and dust.
He returns to what was his room and sits in a pile of rubble. I remain close, not touching him, like he asked, but he pulls me into his lap and removes our goggles. I brush dust out of his hair.
“Your life is not pathetic,” I say. “You have Reckless Alibi, and friends who would do anything for you. And you have me. You can go to therapy to fix whatever it is you think is broken. I’ll come with you if you want.”
He hugs me tightly and doesn’t speak. His cheek rubs against the top of my head as he holds me like I’m his lifeline.
“You’re my therapy,” he says after a long silence. “I can do anything as long as you’re with me.”
“Then I’m never going anywhere.”
A tear blazes a clean trail through the dirt on his cheek. He cups my face. “Marry me, El.”
My heart thunders. I desperately want to say yes, but not in this house. He also has work to do to become the man he thinks is worthy of me. What he doesn’t know is he was worthy the day we met. He was perfect then, and he’s perfect now. But my knowing that and him understanding it are very different things.
“We can’t, Liam. It’s too soon.”
“I’ll never want to be with anyone else.”
I smile. “Me neither.”
“So marry me.”
I kiss him because I need him to know my answer isn’t no, but it’s not yes either. “Promise you’ll ask me again another time. When you’re really ready.”
“Knock knock!” Crew yells from downstairs.
“Up here!” I yell.
He runs up the stairs and stops, taking it all in. “Holy shit.” He asks Liam, “You okay, man?”
Liam doesn’t look at Crew. He runs a finger down my face. “I think I’m okay now.”
Crew kicks some boards aside on his way to us. “What are you going to do now? Need some help with the downstairs?”