A Tangled Truth (Stonewall Investigations Book 3) Page 14

  “Let’s do something next weekend. Maybe we can have a double date?”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” I said, feeling happier and happier by the moment. My phone buzzed on the table, the case clattering against the steel tabletop. It was a message from Andrew. I took a second to unlock the phone and read it, since I had been waiting on an important meeting.

  “Good,” I said out loud.

  “Hm?”

  “Andrew just let me know I’m confirmed for an interview with Gina Cromwell.”

  “The actress?”

  “Yeah, apparently she might have some photographic evidence proving Johnny’s up to something. Her agent wants me to fly out to Palm Springs, though. There’s a film festival, and the only time she’s got open is in between two premieres.”

  “When is it?”

  “It’s um… shit, this weekend.” I opened up my calendar, making sure the weekend was clear. I couldn’t miss out on this interview. Before I could write it down, my calendar app closed out and a phone call took its place. Liam’s sexy mug popped up on my screen. I had set his photo as a candid I had snapped a week ago, with him staring into the camera and effortlessly giving America’s Next Top Model.

  “Sorry,” I said to Collin. Liam rarely ever called me, so I wondered if this was about Johnny.

  “No, go for it.”

  I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. “Hey, Liam, what’s up?”

  “Mark…”

  Instantly, I knew something was wrong. I sat up straighter in the chair and held the phone tighter to my ear. “What’s wrong?” Collin’s eyes darted up to mine.

  “I need you, Mark.” He had been crying. My heart felt like it was being constricted by a boa. Hearing those words, knowing Liam was in pain for some reason and knowing he needed me by his side, made me want to grow wings and fly straight to him.

  “Where are you, Liam?”

  “At my place.”

  I started getting up. “I’ll be right there.”

  19 Liam Wolfe

  My front door opened up into a small foyer area where the elevator let my guests into. I was sitting on a bench in the foyer, my head in my hands, verifiably feeling like a hot fucking mess when the black elevator doors dinged and slid open. Mark immediately stepped out, looking like my goddamn hero in a shining suit of Banana Republic. He spotted me and came to my side, sitting down on the bench. I looked him in those eyes of his and broke down again, feeling the weight of so much bullshit come crashing down on me at once.

  “Whoa, whoa, it’s okay, Liam. I’m here, I’m here now.”

  I fell into his chest and heaved. Most of my tears had been let out already, but I still had plenty left in the reservoir. I wasn’t a big crier, but when the storm hit, there was a guaranteed tsunami.

  And fuck was this a storm.

  “What’s going on?” I felt Mark kiss the top of my head. Just having him here was already working wonders. Having his gravelly voice surround me was like a protective blanket. One of those thunder shirts you put on scaredy-cat dogs. I sniffed and collected myself before I pulled up from his chest.

  “Let’s get inside,” I said. I stood up, feeling my shoulders slumping. He stood, too, his hand searching for mine. I grabbed it and held on tight as we walked, heading into my living room. It was already evening. The sun was beginning to set, which painted the sky in a beautiful deep orange and purple that bounced off nearby buildings.

  “So tell me what’s going on,” Mark said, almost commanded, as he sat down on the couch next to me. His hand went to my knee and rubbed. I was wearing a pair of jean shorts and an old white T-shirt that was a size too big for me.

  “Everything.” And I wasn’t exaggerating. “It feels like everything’s breaking at once.”

  Mark rubbed my knee, letting me know he was there without having to say a single world. I took a breath, steeling myself for the pain. Speaking about these things was just going to make each wound feel brand-fucking-new again. Another breath. I let it out. “My agent called me earlier today. It was to tell me the studio made a final decision and that I was officially removed from the project. He said they wanted me to know they weren’t passing any kind of verdict; they just want to start the film off without the negativity around it.” One more breath. Mark’s hand encased my kneecap. He was warm on my skin, and he was an anchor in this storm. “I’m done. It’s over. No one will want to hire me after this.”

  “Bullshit, Liam. People have come back from far worse. Those accusations are just that, flat-out lies. It’s just going to take some time for the dust to settle, but when it does, I guarantee people are going to be knocking down your door to try and work with you. Your vision is out of this world, and you clearly made films that connected with a huge audience. There’s no way that’s stopping anytime soon.”

  His words were coming in, but my brain was still fried, my mood shot. “I had such a good plan for this film, too. I worked months without sleep in preproduction, making sure everything was perfect. I was the last one in the office and the first one to show up in the mornings. And now it’s all taken right out of my fucking hands.” I choked on a sob.

  “Liam, Liam, look at me.” His hands came up to my face. My gaze turned to his. There was a strength in those dual-colored eyes that helped pull me out from the despair. “You’ve got this. We’ve got this. I’m going to get to the bottom of it all, and you are going to make a film that’s even bigger than Queens. Something that turns into a global phenomenon. I believe you’ve got that in you, now I just need you to believe that, too. Okay? No matter how dark it all may seem right now.”

  “Oh, Mark…” My lip was twitching. My throat felt tighter and tighter. I had to look away, those eyes threatening to drown me. There was something else weighing down heavy on me, almost heavy enough to create a physical pain in my chest. It was something Mark had no idea about. I knew then I couldn’t hold it back from him. “Mark, remember when you asked me why I’m based here instead of Los Angeles?”

  “Yeah, we were outside Lucy’s Donuts. Why?” Wrinkles formed between his thick dark brows.

  “It’s not because I like the street food better in New York… It’s because of… my mom. She’s got Alzheimer’s, Mark. Early onset. And it’s bad.”

  That was when I lost it. I collapsed into Mark’s arms and let it all go, pain and sadness and regret and longing all washing over me. It was grief, and it was raw. I had talked about my mother before, but never to Mark, someone who was straight out of my childhood. A relic from a time in my life when I’d had my mother to talk to, to look at me and see her son. It was such a beautiful time in my life, and I had no idea how fragile it all was. Back then, time felt like it stretched on forever. But it doesn’t. It sneaks up on you quick, and it fucks you up.

  “Liam,” Mark said, holding me as I cried. So much had been built up inside me, and I’d never felt safe enough to let it out. Not when I was with a therapist. Not even when I was by myself. Not ever. Only with Mark holding me did I feel okay enough to demolish the walls that were holding back all my sadness.

  “My heart’s breaking.”

  Mark looked at me, his eyes welling up, tears dropping out the corners. “Sorry… Jesus.”

  He looked away, wiping at his cheeks. I chewed my lip, feeling a weird pull of pain between us. I knew he wanted to be the strong one in that moment, but news like this could take the wind out of anyone’s sails. We both felt the same hurt in that moment; I could see it in Mark’s face.

  I was beginning to pull myself together again, even though my insides felt like a bundle of live wire, sparking and flailing in the middle of a booming thunderstorm.

  “Tomorrow’s her birthday,” I said, the words sounding like they came out of someone else’s mouth. Mark held me tighter against him. I could hear his heart beating in his chest. It echoed through me, matching the fast pace of mine. A song neither of us had to rehearse to sing in sync.

  We stayed like that for
some time. Mark allowing me to speak on my own terms was something he’d done ever since we were kids. Whenever something had upset me, he was the first one to know but only because he gave me the space to tell him. For some reason, whenever I was asked directly if something upset me, I always clammed up. Mark gave me the room to breathe. I always understood he cared whether he said a word or not, and that was what made things so special between us.

  “I stayed in New York because she was settled down here when the time came to move her into a twenty-four-seven care facility. I couldn’t think of moving her to Los Angeles when all of her friends and family were here, and I didn’t want to be across the country from her, either. So I laid down my roots here.”

  “When did she find out?” he asked.

  “I was twenty-two when she was diagnosed. I’m thirty-one now, so it’s been years of watching her slowly fade. I was in film school at the time, over in California. By then, things hadn’t worked out between her and my stepdad, who was the reason why we moved out west in the first place. So since I was already living in a dorm, she decided to move back to New York City by herself. She didn’t tell me about the diagnosis until I went home for the summer. I dropped out and finished my classes at NYU.” I swallowed what felt like a mountain.

  “Oh Liam,” Mark said, the pain raw in his voice.

  “I remember when she would be so excited to hear you were coming over. She’d spend the afternoon making her special nachos, and she’d set up the living room all nice for us. She loved you so much, Mark. She always said you were a special kid.”

  I choked, my body shuddering in Mark’s arms. I felt him shake. More tears came then, and I let myself become submerged in it all. Allowed my emotions to rise up and overtake me, releasing in a way I never had before.

  And I was only allowing myself this because Mark was holding on to me. Only because I knew Mark wouldn’t let me drown.

  He wouldn’t, and that thought alone gave me the hope I needed to float.

  20 Mark Masters

  Holding Liam in my arms didn’t feel like it was enough. I wanted to reach inside of him and take his pain away. If it meant giving it to myself, fine, I’d take it. But I couldn’t do that. All I could do was be there with him, holding him, letting him cry into my chest. I was thankful for his face being buried in my shirt because then he didn’t have to see the tears running down my face. I knew if we both spiraled into a puddle of tears, there’d be no getting out of it. I rubbed his back. A flashback hit me then, of when we were learning how to ride bikes around Washington Square Park and Liam had fallen, hurting himself real bad. I was across the park at the time when I saw him. I dropped my bike on the concrete and bolted over to Liam’s side. We were around twelve at the time. I helped him up and hopped with him over to a bench. It didn’t take him long after that to break down, even though I could tell he was trying to hold it all in. I held him that day almost in the same way I was holding him now.

  Except now, the problem couldn’t be solved with a bag of ice and some Advil. No, these problems had seemingly no solutions. Liam was officially off the film while his mother was living with an incurable illness that stole her memories from her, stole her from Liam. It was heart-wrenching, and it was making me angry. Why did such an incredible man get dealt such a shitty hand?

  I let my tear-streaked gaze drift out the window in front of us. The sun had completely fallen now, leaving behind a starless, cloud-filled night sky. I wasn’t quite sure how long we’d been sitting on the couch, but I didn’t care. We could see the sun rise ten times over and I still wouldn’t care. So long as Liam was in my arms, that was all that mattered.

  “She would still talk about you sometimes,” Liam said, his shaky voice breaking through the heavy silence. “Earlier on, when it wasn’t as bad. She would sometimes ask for you. She’d think you were in the next room playing games with me. She would ask me to go grab ‘Liam and his Marky Mark’ a few times.” Liam gulped down a cry.

  I took a deep breath.

  “She still loves you, you know that, right? And when this is all over and we’re up in the clouds together, she’ll be calling me Marky Mark all the time.”

  He seemed to be touched by that. A flicker of a smile appeared on his face before vanishing. “I know,” Liam said. He sat up a little straighter now and wiped at his face. “This bracelet,” he said, taking off the bracelet I had noticed a while back. “She gave it to me. I barely ever take it off.”

  He passed the leather bracelet to me, bottom side up. There were words inscribed in a beautiful script around the length of the bracelet: I’m Always With You, I’ll Always Love You, I’ll Always Keep You In My Heart’s Memory.

  “This is beautiful,” I said, my voice cracking. I swallowed down a lump. Liam took the bracelet back, putting it back on. He shook his head and dropped it back down on the couch.

  “It’s just been hard,” he said. “And you want to know something else fucked-up?”

  I massaged Liam’s knee, nodding and waiting for him to open up.

  “I went looking for you when she first told me about the diagnosis. And I found you. I found your Facebook page. It must have been before you became a detective and deleted it.”

  My brows rose at that. I hadn’t known. “Why didn’t you reach out?”

  “Your profile picture was with another guy, and you two were holding each other outside of an apartment building and you looked so damn happy. Like you had just moved in together. And I knew then that I wasn’t looking for you because I wanted to have a quick fifteen-minute chat over messages. No. I had been looking for you because I wanted what that guy holding you had. I wanted you, Mark. I always have.”

  I knew exactly what photo he was talking about. “That was with Dean, my neighbor. I helped him move out, and he had his girlfriend take a picture of him hugging me. I set it as a profile pic for a few days since he was leaving and I liked how I came out in it.”

  “Huh,” Liam said, and then he laughed before he put a hand up to his face. “I wonder how different things would be if I’d reached out back then.”

  “Who knows.” I continued to rub Liam’s knee. “It doesn’t matter now, though. We’ve just got to make up for all the lost time.” I filled my air with lungs, feeling my chest stretch. Liam’s living room smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, which had a much-needed soothing effect. “I wanted you, too, Liam. Since the day we met, there was always something there. I just had no idea you felt that way, too. The only hint I had was from the day before you left.”

  “I couldn’t hold it back anymore,” Liam said, no doubt remembering that day. I still saw it playing fresh in my head like a movie I’d seen just yesterday. “I had to kiss you. I thought it would be my last chance, and I just needed to get it out. To see if it felt as good as I dreamed it would.”

  Another deep breath. I frequently thought back to that day, but I had never once talked about it. Not to anyone. “And it did,” I said, affirming it. “Felt like taking off on a rocket ship. Straight up to cloud nine.”

  Liam chuckled at that. It made me want to work even harder to make Liam laugh. “That’s a good way of putting it,” he said. “Except it’s a rocket ship with massive mechanical failure, seeing as how I was moving across the country the next day. It was so bittersweet. I remember falling onto your bed with the kiss. Our hands were everywhere. I was completely lost. And then you started to unzip my pants, and everything hit me all at once. I said I suddenly felt sick, and I ran out of your apartment like a bat out of hell, when all I should have done was chained myself to your goddamn bedpost.”

  “Yup, I remember,” I said, feeling a pang of sadness. I had always known Liam had faked the sudden bout of stomach flu, but I wasn’t going to chase him back then.

  Now? Pfft, now I would have tackled him before he was halfway out of the door. I wasn’t going to let Liam go anytime soon, that was for sure. His hand fell on the couch in the space between us. I took it in mine, slipping my fingers throug
h his, feeling his warm palm on mine. No, I didn’t ever want to let go. I was complete with this man. My pulse drummed to his heartbeat.

  “I was scared,” he continued, his thumb rubbing the side of my hand. The touch sent sparks through me. “You can’t see beauty with fear clouding your vision. It’s impossible. I’ve learned that over the years, and I’ve fought off a lot of fear because of that. Life’s too short to miss the beauty right in front of you.” He looked to me. We were only lit by the moonlight that managed to break through some of the cloud coverage, casting a soft white glow on us. “I’m not scared anymore, Mark. I want to jump all in with you. I do want to make up for the lost time.”

  His words were speaking directly to my soul. “I had a lot of fear, too,” I said. “It stopped me from following you out of that bedroom all those years ago. It stopped me from finding you sooner. It stopped me from being happy for a very long time, and that’s all going to change.” I held on to Liam’s hand a little tighter. My eyes were locked on his, the connection between us almost visible through the shimmer in the air. “I love you, Liam. I always have, and I always will.”

  That was it. No turning back now. We were in entirely uncharted waters. There was a split second where panic flared up in my chest like a grease fire. Had I said it too soon? Was this a bad time? Should I have—

  “I love you, too, Mark.” His smile cracked across his face, the one I’d been waiting for. He looked so damn good when he was showing off those pearly whites. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of love with anyone before. It’s deep. Like, deeeep, Mark.”

  I was smiling as wide as Liam was. “I know what you mean.” And I did. The love I held for Liam ran down to my very core.

  “Thank you,” he said, “for pulling me out of a really dark hole tonight.”

  “I’ll be your ladder at any time of the day.”

  “Well, I’m not going to step on you or anything.” He squinted his eyes, those big pupils catching a sliver of moonlight. “Unless you’re into that kind of thing.”