Every Bright and Broken Thing

Chapter Thirty-Five - Liam

Frozen in place, panic floods my body, fills every vein and bone with fire. I can feel Bill Everett's eyes – black like coal – locked on me.

I can't breathe.

My lungs have been ripped from my chest.

From the corner of my eyes, I search for a way of escape. Trapped in the far corner of Sal's liquor store, the only way out is through Bill Everett.

He takes another drink of beer and leans against the cooler, blocking my way out. His breath is hot on my face, thick with the smell of beer and old cigarettes.

"Where'd you disappear to? I wasn't done having fun."

Every muscle in my body tenses and my stomach twists in on itself. "Get away from me," I manage. Never in a million years did I think I would ever have to face him again – the reason for all my secrets, the reason for my fear, the reason for every bad thing that has happened the last two years.

He leans back, tutting. "Come on, boy. That's no way to treat your elder, is it?"

I close my eyes and try to fight the tears that rage against me. I could vomit right here. Every cell in my body screams, torn apart inside of me. I refuse to be weak. Not again. Not this time.

Mr. Everett leans in again and puts his hand on mine. I try to pull away, but he's a big guy and his grip is too strong. It only takes a second and my mind flashes to that night that I've spent the last two years trying so hard to forget. It comes in flashes of pictures and pain. It was my freshman year of high school and I was sleeping over at their house. Lincoln fell asleep early. I went downstairs for something to drink and he was in the living room, drunk, and asked me to bring him another beer. I did what he said. And I hate myself for doing what he said.

I got too close. Images flash to mind of him grabbing me and pulling me down onto himself. I fought so hard, but I was under him. I couldn't get away. He was too heavy and I was too scared, too weak. Pinned beneath him, I couldn't fight what he did. I just lay there sobbing and unable to find breath, screaming against the palm of his hand. And when he was done, I couldn't move. Just like now, I was paralyzed. Numb. Every part of me in pain.

"Don't you have something to say to me, boy?" he sneers. "I'm talking to you."

"I said... get. away. from. me," I snarl with all the wrath that I can summon. Grief and guilt made lightning out of me.

He gives a big, hearty, predatory laugh. "I'm just giving you what you want," he coos, lifting his hand to stroke my cheek, then moving to grab hold of my neck. Squeezing. Too hard. I wince.

"I never wanted this," I say through clenched teeth.

"Sure you did, boy. You were practically begging for the attention after your mama died. Don't lie, now. You know you enjoyed that little bit of fun we had together."

I swallow. This has been the question of my life these past two years. This is what scared Stacy off. This is what triggered the graffiti on my locker. This is the question that has completely uprooted everything I thought I knew about myself.

Maybe I did want it.

Maybe I did enjoy it.

Maybe Mr. Everett is right.

Maybe Theo is right. Maybe I am what he thinks I am.

No, I resolve within myself. He's manipulating you.

And another voice, a familiar, calming voice, whispers in my mind: You know who you are. Don't let devils tell you who you are.

His hand still on my neck, he leans in again and whispers in my ear. Too close, too close. "Now, how's about you and I get out of here and go someplace more... private. We can pick up right where we left off all them years ago."

The bolt of lightning that I am, I move so suddenly that I wrench myself free from his grip and send him staggering to the floor, the bottle of beer shattering across the linoleum. All eyes are on me now. Drenched in sweat and breathless, my eyes dart around as Mr. Everett, a flash of rage in the fires of his eyes, starts to pull himself to his feet. He growls under his breath, the violence and the lust a firestorm in his deep, dark eyes. A wildfire, his fury spreads and cascades from his flesh in waves of flame. Given any longer, the burn would swallow me. I suck in a sharp breath, lift a shaky finger at him, and growl, "Stay away from me."

With that, I dart from the store and onto the icy street. There's a pressing need to get away and get away fast. Before he has the chance to come after me.

On my way out, I bump into Darren just as he opens the door to Sal's, aware for the first time of his presence. Wide-eyed, he smirks at me. He must've seen what happened. With a glance behind me to make sure Bill Everett isn't in pursuit, I catch a glimmer of... something else on Darren's face.

I climb onto my bike and turn the key in the ignition. Roaring to life, I peel from the parking lot and drive far away. I don't go home. I don't even go back to Summit. I drive, as far away as I can and I keep driving. Through the mountains and the hills and the snow. I fly far, far, far away into the cold, cold night where nothing can touch me except the sympathetic glow of the billion, endless stars that hang above and the mountains that tower around me as they keep watch.