The Knight in Leather Armor

ch.51 Checkmate

I looked up and saw Liam.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t see you there” I apologized as I quickly rubbed away a tear from my eye. I reached over to help him get his bag.

“Of course you didn’t” he replied with an unmistakable annoyance. He picked up his back pack himself- like he didn’t want me touch it.

A golden papery-thin note fluttered from my pocket to the ground, like a fallen butterfly.

I reached for it quickly- as if my heart had just dropped from my chest- and lay exposed on the ground.

But Liam reached it before me.

“You dropped. This” he spoke steadily as he held the note out as if he might contract its’ poison if he held it too long.

It was Harry’s note to me. I had put it in my dress pocket for some stupid reason. I guess I thought it would help me find Harry.

I took the note quickly and stuck it in my dress pocket, wishing and praying that he hadn’t read it- not because I was embarrassed but because it was for my eyes only. And only my eyes.   

“Thanks” I replied hurriedly. I rushed past him into the parking lot.

“Wait,” Liam called as he took my wrist.

I stopped slowly and turned to face him, unsure what he could possibly want.

I looked up into his eyes, but they weren’t his eyes; there was absolutely no warmth in those brown pools.

“Is he here?” he asked harshly.

“Who?” I asked even though I could guess who he meant.

“Harry!” he growled angrily.

“No” I answered cautiously.

Liam didn’t seem to believe a word coming out of my mouth. Instead, he pulled me along to a farther edge of the building, the even more shadowy part. A pang of fear and uneasiness sizzled in my chest, urging me to run.

“Where is he?!” Liam asked loudly, as if Harry was hiding behind some bush.

“In prison?” he added with a slightly menacing smile skulking onto his once golden face.

“N-no. He’s just-” I tried to explain, but I had no answers.  That’s the thing with Harry: he gives you questions, not answers.

“With his dealer? His parole officer, maybe?” Liam questioned- his voice growing louder and even more irritated.

Liam watched my eyes carefully, angrily, longingly. He crept closer to me until he was just a few inches from my face.

My breathing rose uneasily as my legs hardened to lead.

I moved back, but the wall blocked my escape. Liam carefully closed in the space in between us.

“Liam, I really don’t have time for this” I admitted and took a step to the left.

He mirrored by step.

“Oh, you don’t have time for me?” he laughed a dark, amused laugh.

I swallowed hard.

“Angela, I’ve waited ten very long, long years for you. Waited by your side, offering a helping hand and a shoulder to cry on” he spoke calmly, containing the rage and yearning in his voice.

He rested his hand against the brick wall. Then he let it fall down to my neck as he traced my collar with his index finger.

His eyes burned auburn with a lethal mix of accusation, contempt, and yearning.