Last Chance: Rock Romance #2

Chapter Eleven

Natalie

I lay awake unable to close my eyes and fall asleep. I tried throwing my earphones in and listening to music, but it no longer works. I start thinking about how much my life has changed the past couple of months. I think the good has far outweighed the bad. Liam and Layla being the good.

The hospital discharged me eight weeks ago with promises that I would seek aftercare counseling, to help deal with the anxiety and the loss of my parents. In that time, Liam nor Layla have allowed me any time alone, unless it's to attend to personal or hygienic needs. I understand it's because they are afraid I will harm myself. Past has proved to lose their trust.

For the first few nights back home in our apartment, Liam slept on our uncomfortable two person loveseat in the living room. He would wake up frequently to come check on me, and while doing so he would wake me. We somehow ended up in a routine that he would just crawl into my bed and fall asleep.

Layla has cut down her shifts at the bar to be at home more. She feels that Liam and the band are sacrificing a lot to be able to stay here. I agree. I've been trying to talk Liam into heading back out on tour, but every time I bring it up, he cuts me off from finishing what I was going to suggest and smacks the idea down.

Even with my eyes open, I can't make out anything in my dark room. I have an issue sleeping with any lights on, or any light shining through the window. I roll over and feel for Liam. He usually sleeps on top of my blankets and throws his own over top of himself.

For some reason tonight, I just want to be held. My hand reaches out and comes into contact with his back. He's facing away from me. I gently tug on him to roll over facing me. He doesn't comply, so I continue tugging while whispering his name out loud.

"Liam."

"Liam."

I tug again, and he pulls away.

"Liam." I say much louder, no longer a whisper.

He jumps up and away from me suddenly, yelling in a haunted tone. "Get your fucking hands of off me!"

He hops off the bed and continues yelling profanities. He is mad, a side of Liam I have yet to see. Until now.

I can't even make out his shadow, so I turn on my bedside lamp and toss the covers off of me. I walk over to Liam on the other side of my bed, near my dresser. He is looking away from me, as if he is talking to someone there. Someone who is not physically there.

I keep my voice low and smooth and just repeat his name over and over to get his attention. After a few minutes, he stops talking, so I think it's safe to assume that I caught his attention. I step closer and reach my hand out to take one of his.

His hand hangs loose in mine, until I give his a squeeze. I think it shakes him out of his nightmare. He looks to me as if I am about to judge him for what happened, or maybe ask questions. His eyes tell me that he is deeply afraid.

"Natalie."

"Yeah, Liam?"

"Did I hurt you? Please tell me I didn't fucking hurt you." Liam asks, his voice quivering with uneasiness.

I reach out, grabbing his neck and pull him to me. Cradling him into me. I reply with a soothing tone.

"No Liam, you didn't hurt me. I don't even think you could, even if you wanted to."

He pulls back and looks me in the eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I would tell you if I were hurt. I was trying to wake you up. I wanted you to hold me. To take the pain away. You yelled and jumped away from me; that's all. I promise."