A pathetic overgrown kid.
Does she really think of me like that? She knows that’s not the real me, right? I don’t even know now. And the thought makes me sick. Disgusted with myself, just like she said she was. I don’t want her thinking of me that way. Because it’s not who I am. Not really. It’s a facade, built to protect my heart. The heart that got decimated anyway.
I shove my unfinished drink away, along with the rest of the bottle, and push the women off of me. Glancing around, I notice there are plenty more watching, waiting to take their place. Fuck, I can’t even get a damn drink in peace without every woman in the place throwing themselves at me. Wanting a night with the city’s most infamous playboy.
Fuck this shit. I toss a bill on the bar and push past the women without so much as a word or a glance, making my way out of the bar. Heading back in the direction of my apartment, I hang a left on the street beside it and punch in the code to enter my private garage.
I have several cars in here, depending on which one suits my mood if I don’t feel like taking my limo. But there’s only one I have my eye on tonight.
I run my fingers over the soft cover that I haven’t removed in years. I hire someone to take this baby for a spin just enough to keep the engine in good condition. Taking a deep breath, I yank the cover off.
My eyes settle on the vintage Mustang. It’s a Shelby GT 500. My brother’s pride and joy.
Lucas.
I swallow against the tightness in my throat. I haven’t driven it since he died. We used to take it out all the time together. But I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at it, much less drive it.
So what’s different now? All I can think is that Cara’s ripped off the bandage on the wounds I try so hard to cover up. All the feelings I don’t want to acknowledge. But there’s no fighting them now. She’s making me feel a thousand different emotions.
If Lucas were here, I’d have him to talk to about it. Maybe driving his car will help me clear my head. Give me some kind of clarity about what the fuck I do now.
I grab the keys from the password protected safe attached to the cement wall and sit down inside, the smell of the leather filling my nose. Blowing out a breath, I crank the engine, and the muscle car roars to life. In seconds, I’m pulling out onto the streets of Manhattan into the congestion I hate with only one thought in my mind.
I need to get the fuck out of this city.
Liam
As soon as I’m out of the city, my thoughts immediately start to quiet. And the further and further away I get, the stiller they become. Driving my brother’s car seems to bring some kind of peace to me. As if I still have a connection to him of sorts. Now that I know this, I wonder why I haven’t driven it before. That’s something that needs to change.
I find myself on the long, quiet, two-lane country road that leads to the place Lucas is buried. I haven’t been there in ages. But I feel as if I’m being drawn there. Brought to the one place where I might get some clarity. Some guidance.
Because I sure as fuck don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
When I reach the cemetery, I park the Shelby and climb out, walking slowly toward Lucas’s grave. I stand for a long time in front of it, letting the emotions run their course, not trying to hide from them.
I’ve done that for too long. Years. I never let myself think about it. I’ve thrown myself into my work during the day and my playboy lifestyle at night, never giving myself time to dwell on my losses. Simultaneously avoiding letting my guard down. Protecting myself from the assault of pain that’s hitting me right now.
But maybe that’s what I need. To feel again. That’s what Cara’s forced me to do. And while I’m hurting like a motherfucker right now, it’s better than being numb.
Because I’ve missed out on so much by keeping myself detached, remaining aloof. I might not have been hurting, but I also wasn’t living. Not really. It was all a farce.
Right now all I want is to be back with Cara.
Living.
I go down to my knees in front of my brother’s grave and speak from my heart.
“Lucas,” I sigh. “God, I miss you, brother. So fucking bad.”
My chest tightens painfully, and I almost want to run back to the car and drive away from this shit, but I’m hoping against hope that somehow coming here will give me some kind of direction. Some clarity on what I need to do.
I take a deep breath. “I fell in love, man. Wish you were here to see her. To meet the woman who finally brought Liam Donovan to his knees.” I chuckle, thinking about how much Lucas would love Cara.
I pour my heart out there in the middle of the graveyard, spilling my guts to my brother, even though he’s long gone from this world. I tell him all about how we met, how she stole my heart from the very beginning without me even realizing it.
Then I tell him, “I fucked up, man. Bad. I don’t know how to fix it.”
I pause, drawing a deep breath, letting all my words settle in the silence. I really did screw this up. I was in on the ploy from the very beginning. And while she was, too, she wasn’t aware the entire time like I was. For all she knows, I was just fucking with her the whole time. She has no way of knowing if anything I said was true. If my feelings are real or not. If everything we shared was all part of an elaborate game or if it was all real. It was. Every fucking bit of it.