All In (Keep Breathing Book 2), стр. 67

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LIAM

The following afternoon Holly stands in front of my desk. She’s shifting from foot to foot and won’t look at me. It’s as if we are two perfect strangers, instead of two people have been intimately close to one another. She’s wearing a navy wrap dress and it exposes the top of her cleavage and I can make out a hint of her black lace bra. She looks amazing and I crave to attach myself to her wet pink lips.

But no matter how much I want to, I can’t.

I’m still wrestling with my thoughts and I don’t know what to do. Everything screams to keep her at arm’s length till I decide what to do, in case she goes walking away once she learns the truth.

“I can pick up dinner tonight if you like and we…"

"We don't have to be together every night you know,” I snip, cutting her off, but the second the words leave my mouth, I instantly want to put my foot in my mouth. My eyes drift to her face and I watch her swallow.

"Oh, well that's a relief." She pushes back her shoulders and I watch as she retreats into herself. Trying not to show the tears prickling in the corner of her eyes.

"Listen, Holly," I start and she raises her hand to stop me.

"No." She steps back. "It will be good to finally get a break from your cranky ass. Have a good day, Mr. Morgan." She spins on her heel and marches out of my office, slamming the door.

I send another coffee mug hurling to the wall.

Fuck! I can't do this.

No matter what I decide to do, if I lie or if I tell her, I'll always know Matty isn't mine.

I'm running. Taking the long-beaten trail through the park. I am trying to escape this pain. It is unlike any other pain I've felt before. As if a hole is being ripped through my heart.

I run faster, pushing myself to my limit. Every muscle in my body aches and my right knee is killing me, but I force myself through the pain. It feels better than the deceit my brother has brought upon me.

I have no idea how long I've been running for, but daylight is turning into dusk. Sweat pours down my brow, my shirt is drenched as I run out of the state park back into town.

The neon sign of an ABC liquor store taunts me up ahead as I make my way back home.

Would one drink be so bad? my subconscious mind argues.

It wouldn’t just be one drink.

Go the other way.

I turn around and decide to take the long way home, around the block and around the liquor store. Fuck, I’m exhausted. The adrenaline is starting to fade. I lean against the street pole at the corner and smash the button for the walk symbol. As I wait for the light to change my mind rages in battle. Maybe I should go back towards the liquor store.

Why does it matter if I drink?

I just lost everything again.

But do I want to toss two and a half years down the drain

I grip my wet, sweaty hair as my breathing grows ragged with the war raging on in my head.

The man on the crosswalk lights up and I go to cross. A horn honks and bright lights barrel towards me.

Now I’m in pain!

I don’t know if the car hitting me was some kind of omen or what, telling me I should’ve gone to the liquor store instead of heading home.

Bright fluorescent lights beat down on me as I wait once again to be seen. I’ve already been x-rayed, poked and prodded, and now I’m waiting for the doctor to tell me what damages the car did to me. The smell of sanitizer with a hint of strawberries fills my nose as I hear the curtain pull back. A petite nurse with dirty blonde hair gives me a sweet smile as she walks into the room and heads for the medical supplies on the metal tray. She reminds me a little bit of Holly, with her own set of bright green eyes, and seeing her makes me nauseous.

“You feeling okay, Mr. Morgan?” The nurse’s gentle hand touches my shoulder. “You’re looking a little pale, and your blood pressure just spiked.”

I shift on the little bed, and pain radiates through my rib cage. “I’m fine. Where’s the other nurse?” I ask, not needing a Holly reminder. I‘ll take the ratchet woman with cold hands, who tried to twist me like a pretzel lifting me onto the x-ray machine.

She frowns. “On break. I promise you I’m qualified.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not that. You just remind me of someone.”

“Oh,” she says softly and reaches for the bandages. “I’m just going to reapply some new bandages on your wounds and get you some fresh ice packs. Also, before you leave, I want to go over some breathing exercises so you don’t get pneumonia.”

The curtain scrapes back and a gray-haired man, looking weathered, and on his last leg of the evening steps into my room.