Falling Without Caution

Chapter 7 ~ Liam

"Well it seems we have no other choice." Dad runs a hand through his hair that looks so disgustingly identical to mine. If it were up to me, I would've taken Mom's burnt auburn hair and hazel eyes without a complaint. "I'll hire someone to find dirt on that pain-in-the-ass co-actor of yours and then things can get back on track." This man makes me sick.

I shake my head in frustration. "No, Dad, I'm not going to blackmail Elise into fake dating me."

"It's Director Winters when we're in public, Liam. How many times have we been over this?" I can't believe there was ever a time I didn't dread being in the same room as him—that there was a time I even looked up to him. "And why the hell not?" he finishes, a hint of sarcasm to his tone.

Good. Now I can really give it to him. "Because she's my friend, and she trusts me. Unlike you, I would never use that to my advantage. I honestly have no idea what Mom would think of you if she was still alive. Probably that you're a selfish bastard who deserves to-"

He cuts me off with a sharp hand to my cheek, and, man, can my father deliver a blow. I can tell the skin is swelling without even the privilege of a mirror. Although I'm ashamed of it, I can't bring myself to do anything except clutch the victim area in pain.

"Liam, what happened the last time you couldn't hold your tongue?" I'd be lying if I said I didn't back up a little in fear. I may hate my father, but I'm not arrogant enough to believe that he won't follow through on his threats. "So, son, I'd like you to think again. Will. You. Figure. Out. How. To. Get. The. Girl. On. Board. Or will I?"

That does it. "You better stay far away from Elise." I'm about to overcome my overwhelming urge to run away, and deliver a punch of my own instead, when the door flies open.

"There's no need."

Elise? No, she needs to get out before Dad can-

"I take it back. Director Winters, I'm more than thrilled to keep your son as my fake boyfriend."

I can't keep myself from gaping in shock as she clutches my forearm with her small hands and somehow drags me out of the room. She may be tiny, but she's damn strong.

"Liam..." she begins, her foot tapping anxiously against the tile floor of the hallway. For a few seconds, I worry that Dad may overhear, but I'm immediately put at ease when I remember that the inside of his office is soundproofed. Sound can travel out, but no sound can travel in. Quite counterproductive if you were to ask me. "Are you alright? Purple isn't a good color on you," she attempts to joke, but the worry etched into her forehead tells me that this is all but funny to her. I have no idea what I say to her in my state of mind, but it must've been stupid, because she narrows her eyes at me in annoyance.

"What the heck is wrong with your father?" Elise demands, the feisty girl that she is, arms crossed despite her earlier concern. For a girl with such an innocent name, she really is my firefly. I sigh, knowing it's about time I tell her the truth. I owe her that much, at least, for saving my butt from Dad. And though it surprises me, I trust her.

With a sigh, I beckon for her to follow and head down to my room, preparing myself mentally to tell her everything. I have a feeling that once I start, I'll know exactly what to say, but the idea of articulating all the words that have been spiraling inside my head since Mom died still seems to be implausible. Implausible, and in a way, impossible.

But like all other things with this beautiful girl—who is looking at me as if I just announced I've been carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, is looking at me like she would be more than happy to take some of that weight for herself—the words come pouring out easily, almost too easily. I begin with the day Mom died, ending only when it becomes too painful to speak and the cracking, shaking in my voice is making it too hard to go on.