Chapter Thirty-Four
Liv
Later that night, I was greeted by a grinning Adam standing at my front door, holding a mountain of pizza boxes.
“I bought you extra wedges,” he said, trying to look contrite but looking utterly adorable instead. How had the psycho stalker become the guy who made my heart skip a beat? Life certainly had a funny way of fucking with you. I wasn’t complaining though. He was perfect for me. He made everything… exciting.
“I don’t need extra wedges,” I said, grabbing two of the boxes from the top of the tower he was holding. “No man ever won my heart with the promise of extra wedges.”
He frowned at my attempt at making a lame joke that only my friends would understand, then shrugged and strolled into my house, heading straight for the den.
“I hope there aren’t more pizza delivery guys out there impaled on any fences,” I called after him as I shut the door, then I inwardly cringed. Boy, I was on top form tonight with my dreadful attempt at humour.
Adam’s face remained dead-pan and he put the pizza boxes down on the table in the den, and then came over to me, standing with his hands in his pockets as he faced me. There were only inches separating us, but I felt like something was off. Like there was a distance in his eyes.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” he said, dipping his head down to stare at the floor. “I shouldn’t have made you feel like I doubted you today. I didn’t, by the way. He was the one I was pissed at, but still. I never want to make you feel like I don’t trust you. I do… It’s just…”
I put my finger over his lips to shut him up. His words made my chest ache. I never thought I’d ever hear him apologise, not for being who he was. And I got it. He was jealous, possessive, and it killed him to see me with another guy. But I really didn’t blame him. If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d have been exactly the same.
“You don’t have to say anything. I would’ve done the same thing if it’d been you sitting in the park, talking to some girl. That’s a level of crazy you really don’t want to see from me.” I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. “I know some people might call you out for your jealousy, see it as a red flag or whatever, but I get it. I get you. You’re passionate and you don’t open up easily to other people, so the fact that you’ve opened up to me, it means a lot. It’s everything. You’ve put yourself out there, but at the same time, you need to protect yourself.”
He squeezed me back and planted a delicate kiss just below my ear as he said, “I need to protect you.”
“That too.” I smiled to myself, loving the attention. “Adam… Don’t ever apologise for who you are. I don’t want you to change. You’re you. You’re one of a kind. That’s what I… like about you. I’ve never met anyone like you.” I held myself back from using the other L word. I figured we’d had enough ‘moments’ for one day. But I was falling, and fast. Every growl, every stare, the intensity and the emotions, all of it was like some wild Adam Noble rollercoaster ride and I was here for every twist and turn. I’d never felt so alive.
“I know I can be intense and a bit too much to handle, but it’s only because I’m crazy about you, Olivia. Always have been and always will be.”
“I’m crazy about you too.”
I grabbed his face in both of my hands and brought it in front of mine and I kissed him, totally forgetting about the pizzas going cold on the table. Then I took his hand and led him up to my room. I was hungry for something more and the pizzas just weren’t going to cut it.
* * *
I lay on my bed, in his arms, staring at the shadows on the ceiling as the trees outside danced around in the breeze. Our clothes were discarded all over the floor, but I still had my shell necklace on. My head was rested on his chest, listening to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, and his arms were wound tightly around me, his thumb rubbing circles on my shoulder, making goosebumps tingle all over my body. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this peaceful. Being with him, lying with him like this, it was like coming home. A feeling of total relaxation and well-being that I never wanted to lose. As corny as it sounded, I felt… complete.
He reached down to pick up the pendant on my necklace, twisting it around in his fingers to inspect it, and then he said, “You wear this every day.” I was surprised he’d noticed and then he added, “I’m guessing there’s a story behind it. Wanna tell me about it?”
I hadn’t told many people about the story behind the shell pendant, but I was touched that he wanted to know.
“My gran bought me this necklace. It’s Tiffany.” Like that made any difference to him.
“I didn’t ask who made it,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “I wanted to know what the story was.”
I sighed and smiled, thinking about my gran and how much she’d done for me.
“My gran gave it to me right before she passed away. She said it was something to remember how badass I am.”
He laughed and I lifted my head to give him my serious ‘what-the-fuck-are-you-laughing-at’ stare.
“I’m not joking, my gran said those actual words,” I chastised him, and he tried to hide the smile on his face.
“But why a shell?” he carried on, and I settled my head back onto his chest.
“Because I always loved shells as a little girl. Years ago, before my brothers were born, my gran used to take me on holiday to give my mum and dad a break. She was my mum’s mum, but she was so different to how my mum is. Gran was down to earth, money didn’t impress her. Holidays with Gran weren’t fancy hotels with private kids clubs like my mum and dad used to sign me up for so they could go off and sunbathe all day in peace. Gran booked caravans or took me to holiday clubs where the adults joined in with the fun. She was awesome.”
“She sounds it,” he said, nuzzling into my hair, and I sighed at the happy memories now flooding my mind.
“One year, we went to a caravan park not far from Sandland. It was about an hour’s drive away, but it was on the coast. There was a little beach and loads of other kids to play with. Every day she’d take me to the sea to paddle, go crabbing, and collect shells. And then every night, I’d go back to the caravan, wash the sand off the shells and leave them in rows next to the door to our caravan to dry out overnight. But every morning, when I woke up, I’d find my shells had all been crushed. Every single one was smashed and left for me to find like some cruel shell crime scene. It pissed me off, but I wouldn’t let myself cry about it.
“Instead, I’d go back to the beach the next day, bring some more home, wash them, leave them over night to dry, but then the next morning the same thing would happen. Every day it happened. And on the fifth day, I lost it.
“I knew who was doing it, or at least I had a pretty good idea. See, there was this kid at the camp, a proper weirdo who never played with the rest of us. He used to hide behind the other caravans and watch us, but whenever one of us called out to him to join us, he’d run away and hide. We called him the creeper. I was pretty sure it was him smashing my shells.
“So, I filled a bucket full of the old, smashed shell pieces, sand, and some seaweed I’d gotten off the beach, and one night, after I’d washed and laid my shells from that day out on the concrete, I crept over to his caravan. His bedroom window was open, so I went back to mine, took the stepping stool Gran kept in there to help me reach the tall cupboards, and I took it back to that window, climbed up, and emptied every dirty piece of beach through it.
“When I heard the angry shouts coming from inside, I ran, leaving the stool behind, but I didn’t care. The voices from that caravan were so loud they scared me. I could still hear them when I got back to our van, and I darted inside, locking the door behind me, and I put a plastic chair against it because I thought that would help protect us against any would-be attackers.
“I didn’t sleep very well that night. I kept expecting the door to our caravan to burst open and someone to drag me out of my bed and make me clear up the mess I’d caused. But the next morning, when I woke up, the park was peaceful. And when I stepped outside, expecting to find carnage, I saw that not one of my shells were broken. He’d left them right where they were.
“I don’t know why, but I started laughing when I saw them all lined up on the floor, looking clean and pretty. Gran came out and asked me what I was cackling over, and I did think about lying, but I’d never lied to my gran, and I didn’t ever want to, so I told her. I told her what I’d done after she fell asleep the night before, and I told her why too. I thought she might tell me off, but she didn’t. She told me she was proud of me for not letting him get me down, and said I reminded her of herself. She said I’d proven that Andrews’ girls don’t take any crap. Andrews was my mum’s maiden name, and then she told me I should make a necklace out of the shells and wear it. Show that bully that I was better than him. So, I did. But I never saw him again. They must’ve left the park earlier that morning. I missed my chance.
“And that’s pretty much it. She bought this shell necklace because she wanted me to remember that holiday. Remember that I should always stand up for myself, even when she wasn’t here to remind me.”
The room was quiet, and I noticed that Adam was tense. I lifted my head to see his eyes boring into mine as he breathed deeply, his face frozen into a stony glare.
“Coney sands caravan park?” he said quietly.
“Yes. How did you…?” I went to keep talking but my mouth had dried up.
“You were the girl with the blonde hair that everyone wanted to be around. The day before you came, no one played together like that, but when you arrived, everyone flocked around you. You were like a siren.”
“Oh my God.” I just stared at him and let him carry on.
“My foster family told me I wasn’t allowed to play with the other kids. I wasn’t like them, and they didn’t want me scaring them or causing trouble that’d get us all thrown out. I hadn’t done anything, but I was the foster kid they didn’t want. The paycheck that hung like a millstone around their necks. If they could’ve left me at home, they would’ve. To be honest, most families that I stayed with did. I still don’t know why they bothered to take me.
“But I watched you every day, your blonde hair and your pretty smiles. It didn’t matter how old the other kids were, all of them wanted to be with you. I did too, but you never noticed me, and I hated you for it. That’s why I used to watch you wash those shells, and then, when everyone had gone to bed, I snuck out and broke them all. It wasn’t because I wanted to upset you. I just wanted you to notice me and I didn’t know what else to do.”
I was finding it hard to breath, but he took my necklace in his hand then he gave a sad smile.
“That night, when you poured the contents of your bucket through the window, you got my foster father right in the face. He blamed it on me. Said the rest of the camp were obviously freaked out by my being there, so they cut our holiday short, made us pack up our stuff in the middle of the night and leave. I never did get to see you again. I’d have loved to see you wearing your shell necklace. But I always thought about you. I thought about you every day for years. The girl with the golden hair.”
Suddenly, he clenched his eyes shut and his head fell backwards onto the pillow.
“Fuck. That night at the plastics factory, when I first saw you in Mathers’ changing room, I knew I’d seen you before. I must’ve recognised you.”
My heart stopped in my chest.
“After all these years?” I was speechless.
“I think you’re under-estimating the effect you had on me back then, Olivia.” He ran his fingers through my hair as he spoke. “I was so pissed at my foster family for making us leave early, so angry at the thought of never seeing you again that I set fire to the kitchen curtains when I got back, and they had me shipped off to social services right then and there to be rehoused. Fuck, I hated that family.”
“If you’d come to play with us, I’d have let you. I wasn’t a bitch back then.” I felt like a knife had been pushed into my chest, I couldn’t breathe and there was a lump the size of a boulder in my throat.
“Like I said, I wasn’t allowed. And up until that day, when we left, I usually did what the foster families told me. But after that, I was out of control. No one could tell me what to do.”
I took a moment to compose myself. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All those years ago, the sad boy who cowered away from the world. The dirty boy who looked so unloved, like he didn’t belong to anyone. The lost boy who couldn’t use his voice, not even to other kids… that was Adam?
A yearning of sadness rippled through me, and yet, I realised that we’d both evolved back then. I’d met him and it’d made me realise my worth. He’d met me and he decided he wouldn’t stay cowering in the shadows.
He would be seen.
He would be heard.
He was someone.
“I made you a badass too then?” I said, thinking about a little boy who’d reached his limits. A boy who wanted his life to mean something more than being pushed aside and ignored. A boy who knew what it felt like to be abandoned, thrown away by society, and treated like trash. And now, he was the one who stood up for people with no voice. He had created that power within himself. He wasn’t a monster; he was a fighter. A freedom fighter. And I fucking loved him.
He laughed as he stroked my hair. “I guess you did make me a badass.”
“We shaped each other,” I carried on, hoping that he could see what I saw. And I kissed his chest, right over where his heart was beating. The surge of love I felt for him was starting to overwhelm me.
“You brought meaning to my life,” he replied, totally getting where I was coming from. “As a kid, and now. Seems we were always meant to be. You and me. It was fate.” He put his hand behind my head, pulling me up to him for a kiss. When he broke away, he smirked and said, “What’re you doing to me, Olivia Cooper? I’m turning into a pussy. If the others could hear me now, they’d kick my ass.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Your psycho reputation is safe with me.” I ran my nose along his and then placed a gentle peck on his lips.
“It’s not a reputation. It’s a fact.” He smirked and then gave me that psycho stare I’d seen him do countless times before I’d really gotten to know him.
I sighed and rested my chin on my arms that were crossed over his chest, and I looked into his eyes.
“There’s only one thing in this goddamn world that can silence the demons in my head,” he said. “Twenty-two years they’ve plagued me, but now, I have an antidote.”
“Which is?”
“You.”
I had no words. What could I say to that? An ‘I love you’ wouldn’t have meant as much as what he’d just admitted to me. So, I cuddled right into him, breathed him in and held onto him, knowing that I’d always hold onto him.
I silenced the demons in his head. He silenced the doubt in my heart.
Maybe my heart was safe in his hands after all?
Maybe.
I really hoped it was, because he had it, and there was no going back for me. I’d fallen and I never wanted to be free.