Liv, in the Moment Page 4

  "I called the abuse in. He'll be getting a visit soon," Dad said.

  Mark winked at her but his face remained impassive. "You aren't going to tell me, are you?" They all looked everywhere but at her. "Okay. I get it. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

  She went upstairs, got ready for bed, and then ever so quietly snuck back downstairs. Leaning against the wall outside the kitchen, she listened.

  "...back door." She heard Mark say. "...fear of God in him."

  "No..." Mom's voice reached her. "...anything."

  "...fully covered." She barely heard Dad say. Then, "...prints."

  A chair scraped against the tile floor. Liv bolted upstairs.

  Suspicions swirled in her head like a pinwheel caught in the wind. But when she saw Connor the next morning, looking bruised but otherwise normal, her suspicions turned to confusion. "How was, um, your night?" she said.

  Connor gave her an odd look. "Fine. Why?"

  "Did anything happen?"

  "Do I look like I have more bruises?" He sounded irritated.

  "No." She could so do irritated. "Forget it."

  "Whatever." He ignored her to talk to Mark before he left for work with Dad. When he got home at the end of the day, he continued to ignore her, which bugged her to the point of trying to trip him when he left to go to his house. Aside from a taunting grin he threw at her, he walked out unperturbed.

  Liv scowled and went to the den, where the television was shockingly free, but she was too aggravated to get excited about the oddity. She flipped aimlessly through the channels until it was late enough for her to go to bed. With a heavy sigh, she announced to the empty den, "I'm going to bed."

  "Come give your dad a goodnight kiss," Dad called.

  Liv went into the kitchen where her parents and Mark had spent the evening talking. "What are you guys doing?" she said as she leaned down to wrap her arms around Dad's neck. She stayed there, hugging him while Mom made some excuse about catching up, blah, blah, blah.

  Oh yeah, they were definitely up to something.

  Liv bid everyone a good night and went upstairs with a smirk on her lips. And waited.

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOUR

  There Will Be Changes

  "You want to live?"

  The man's eyes popped open. He tried to lift his head, but the cold metal pressed into the center of his forehead, held him flat. His arms fought the entangling sheet. Garbled sounds of terror escaped his throat.

  The intruder, clad in black from head to toe, knew he was a frightening figure, outlined by the moonlight streaming through the window. He knew from experience that the gleaming whites of his eyes only added to the terrifying image he presented. He pressed the pistol harder against the cowering man's forehead.

  "I asked you a question, Keith. Do you want to live?" he said again, deliberately making his voice harsh.

  Keith blubbered and tears streamed across his cheeks "Ye-yes. I-I do. Please--"

  "Shut the fuck up."

  The woman whimpered. She was awake, despite the drugs she must have taken to keep her asleep until now. She clawed at her mouth with bound hands, kicked with bound feet, but the duct tape that held them was unyielding. Her thrashing took her to the edge of the bed, and she fell to the floor, landing with a thump.

  He leaned over the cowering, whimpering man. "I hear you get off on beating kids."

  "What? No! No I--"

  "Don't fucking lie to me!"

  Sobs shook Keith's frame. Snot ran down his nose, tears tracked into his hairline.

  "Are you beating any kids, Keith?" He jammed the pistol into Keith's forehead hard enough that it broke the skin. A small trickle of blood trailed toward the receding hairline.

  Shudders shook Keith's body. "Yes." It was a bare whisper.

  "Louder!"

  "Yes. Yes! I hit him."

  He pulled the pistol away from Keith's forehead, aimed it lower. Aimed it where it threatened what Keith probably valued most. The safety-release was loud, even over Keith's whimpers.

  The woman on the floor began to scream behind the tape.

  "Please don't kill me, please don't kill me, please don't kill me." Keith's words tumbled over each other.

  "If you want to live..."

  "I do. I do! I want to live. What can I do? Tell me what to do."

  He stepped closer and pressed the barrel of the gun against Keith's temple. "Don't touch the kid. Ever. You lay so much as a finger on him, you're dead. You speak to him less than respectfully, you're dead.

  "And it won't be quick. It will be slow, and so painful you'll be begging me to kill you." He leaned so close he could smell the cold sweat of fear on Keith's cheek. "You understand, asshole?"

  Keith nodded frantically. "I do. I do. I understand. I won't touch Connor again. I won't even look at him wrong. I won't say anything to upset--"

  "Good." He straightened and stepped around the bed. He stood over the woman, cowering in the corner. "You should be standing up for your boy instead of letting this asshole take you both down. Stand up for him. Or you won't like the outcome."

  She whimpered. Her head turned from side to side and frantic noises came from behind the duct tape.

  Satisfied that she'd gotten his message, he holstered his pistol and pulled the roll of duct tape from a pocket in his cargo pants. He tore a strip off, while keeping his eyes fixed on Keith the entire time.

  Keith didn't so much as twitch.

  "Put your wrists together behind your back."

  Keith complied instantly.

  Deliberately rough, he bound Keith's wrists behind him, wrapped his ankles and knees together. Finished, he said, again making his voice harsh, "I'd be real careful about getting drunk again, Keith. Remember what I said. You touch that boy, you will learn what excruciating pain feels like."

  Keith nodded frantically. His muffled agreement sounded through the tape.

  He raised the pistol and aimed it so that Keith was looking straight down the barrel. Moonlight glinted off steel. "You won't get another warning."

  Fresh tears filled Keith's eyes.

  He turned away. In a moment, he was out the open window.

  As he crossed the overgrown back yard to where Cal waited, Mark did his best to stifle his laughter.

  * * * *

  Connor arrived for breakfast even earlier than usual. Mrs. Jones looked like she had only just gotten up and Mr. Jones was groggily filling his mug with steaming black coffee.

  "Am I too early?" he said.

  Mr. Jones looked at him with bleary eyes. "If the door was unlocked, it's not too early," he said, his voice sounding thick with sleep.

  "Sit down. I'll get you some juice," Mrs. Jones said over a yawn.

  Liv walked in, still in her pajamas. Her eyes were heavy lidded, her hair tousled from sleep.

  He stared at her for a moment before he shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

  "Good morning to you too," she groused as she dropped into the chair opposite him and slouched over until her head rested on the table.

  Mark came in a moment later. "Good morning," he murmured. He took the mug of coffee Mr. Jones handed him. "Thanks."

  No one said anything while Mrs. Jones prepared breakfast. Liv eventually got up to slice some melon and set the table.

  Connor waited until she sat back down before he cleared his throat. "Interesting thing happened last night."

  He noticed how still everyone got.

  "Oh?" Mr. Jones sounded only mildly curious.

  Connor cleared his throat again. "We had an intruder."

  Liv's eyes got comically round. "Oh my gosh! Are you okay?"

  Connor thought he heard a snort of laughter from Mark, but he had his mug to his mouth, so he wasn't sure. He lowered the mug and said, "Don't hurt yourself, Liv."

  Liv's face turned a deep crimson.

  "So what happened?" Mark said. "They steal anything?"

  Connor shook his head. "The guy delivered a warning to my stepdad
."

  Mom set a platter of bacon and eggs on the table. "A warning?" she murmured. "Liv, will you get the bread out of the oven?"

  Connor filled his plate, while he did his best to keep from laughing. It was funny how blandly everyone, except Liv, had reacted. "The guy warned my stepdad not to touch me. Or he'd come back for him."

  "What did your stepdad do?" Mark said.

  Connor helped himself to the bread Liv set in front of him. "By the time we got out of the duct tape he bound us with--"

  "You were bound too?" Liv scowled at her uncle.

  Connor sipped orange juice to hide his smile. "It didn't hurt, Liv," he assured her after he swallowed.

  "What did your stepfather do, Connor?" Mr. Jones said.

  "Oh, he blubbered for hours after. He promised me he would never touch me again and said how sorry he was that he'd ever hurt me. But he didn't call the cops or anything like that. Since there was nothing to report. You know, nothing stolen, or anything."

  Mark sat back, looking pleased. "Do you think he'll leave you alone now?"

  "I'm sure of it. He's too much a coward to attempt to bring that guy back."

  Mark rubbed his hand over his mouth. Mr. Jones coughed and looked away. Mrs. Jones and Liv smiled. It wasn't until Connor was getting ready to leave with Mr. Jones that he said to Mark, "The guy from last night said something to me."

  Mark looked back with a steady gaze. "Yeah? What did he say?"

  "De oppresso liber."

  "Sounds foreign."

  "I looked it up. It's Latin. It means to liberate the oppressed."

  "Sounds like a good motto."

  Connor stuck out his hand. "Thank you." He hoped the simple words somehow managed to convey his deep respect, admiration and gratitude.

  Mark bypassed his hand and reached out to clasp him in a strong hug. "De oppresso liber." His voice was low, and a little gruff.

  Connor repeated the official motto of the United States Army Special Forces against the shoulder of one of their finest serving sergeants. "De oppresso liber."

  * * * *

  The week before school started, Connor went with Dad to buy a truck. Liv's feelings were jumbled. She worried about how things would change but was still excited for him, and she was touched that her dad was willing to help him do something so important. Still, she hated the thought of not driving with him to and from school.

  She didn't dwell on her ambiguous feelings, and would deny them if pressed, but since The Incident with his stepfather, she...cared more.

  Mom looked out the window when they heard a car pull into the driveway. "They're back," she said, and a delighted grin spread across her face.

  Liv raced out the door. She paused only slightly as Connor got out of his new black truck before she threw herself into his arms. He was practically shouting his joy. He twirled her around before depositing her on her feet.

  "Man Liv, you weigh so little I almost forgot I was holding you."

  She scowled at him. "Jerk."

  Connor grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the pickup. "C'mon. Look how sweet this is." He opened the driver's side door and nudged her until she sat. Then he put his hand on her leg and side and slid her over until she was in the passenger seat. "Souped up stereo," he said as he got behind the wheel, "four wheel drive, six cylinders--"

  Liv tuned him out while he rattled off the truck's specs. She was enjoying just being in the moment, reveling in his enthusiasm, so pleased that in some small way she had helped to make this possible.

  Then what he was saying fully registered. "...gonna ask Ana out now."

  A roaring sound filled her ears. "What?"

  Connor grinned. "She's called me a few times since school got out. Totally has the hots for me. Now that I've got my ride, I'm pimpin' it with the ladies."

  Liv swallowed and wondered how she could instantly feel like crying.

  Connor frowned. "What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

  She reached for the stereo and fiddled with the buttons. "No...um..." She cleared her throat. "No, Connor, I think it's great. I'm happy for you." She did her best to look happy, but knew she'd failed. "Maybe you two could be the Most Sexually Desirable Couple."

  He huffed and looked frustrated as he said, "What is it with you and that stupid list?"

  "Nothing!" She startled herself with how forcefully she spoke.

  "Is it because you aren't on it?"

  Heat climbed her cheeks and she blinked rapidly to hide the tears that instantly filled her eyes.

  "Oh, shit." Connor groaned. "I'm sorry, Liv. I didn't mean--" He wrapped his arm behind her neck and pulled her against his chest. "Look, I..." After a moment he doggedly plowed on, "You are really pretty. It's just in a different way, you know? You've got a really pretty face, and your hair is, you know, hot. Long and blond and shiny. I've noticed it a lot."

  Liv sat silently in his embrace. She'd held back the tears, but she couldn't stop the stupid trembling that she knew he could feel. She didn't want to pull away though. She marveled at the feeling of being in his arms, marveled at how good he smelled. She also wanted to hear more.

  "It's just, you know, all about the body," he continued, "And all the girls on that list have really hot bodies."

  Maybe hearing more wasn't such a good idea. Liv gave a tortured moan and pulled out of his arms. "And clearly I don't."

  Connor rubbed a calloused hand along the back of his neck and muttered what sounded like a curse. "No, it's not like that. You're just...you know...you're like those models who wear clothes and stuff. Not like the Victoria's Secret models, or anything like that. But you know, the ones that...walk and look pissed off all the time. Seriously, you could be a model."

  He sounded so enthusiastic that Liv felt her lips twitch. "You mean the ones you and Brody said looked like little boys with chick bobble heads?"

  Connor winced. "You sure we said that?"

  "When you grabbed a magazine Chelsea was looking at during lunch last year." She heard him draw in a long breath, and then slowly exhale.

  "I--" He looked helpless. "I don't know what's just happened here, Liv. I'm, ah, just pretty stoked I got my truck. You know?" He seemed downright nervous.

  Liv sucked her lips in and bit down, but she couldn't stop her laughter. When his expression morphed from wary to confused, she laughed even harder. Impulsively she cradled his face in her hands and hugged him. "Sometimes, I swear I adore you."

  He slowly pulled away from her. "Um, okay. Why don't we--ah, just go for a drive? Your parents are going to wonder why we haven't left yet." He gave her a tentative smile.

  "To the beach?"

  His eyes lit up. "Hell yeah."

  * * *

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Duckling to Swan, Who?

  Liv hadn't spent much time imagining the first day of her senior year, but the few imaginings she'd had didn't even come close to how it really went down. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd thought her friendship with Connor would revert back to the way it had been before she started giving him rides. Really, why would he come over to her house in the morning when he could buy a McMuffin on the way to school in his sexy-though-she'd-never-acknowledge-it truck?

  But as she was telling Mom she was too nervous about the first day to eat anything but a little cereal, he walked in.

  He grinned at her slack-jawed expression. "You hoping nutrition will fly in there, Liv, and make you gain weight?"

  Liv snapped her jaw shut. Why did she have such an unattractive habit? "Naw, gotta keep these legs lucky."

  Connor's eyes rounded. "Did you just make a joke? Oh my. Mrs. Jones, did you hear that?"

  Mom's shoulders shook with laughter but she kept her eyes averted.

  "We've...wow...I'm speechless," he said.

  "I knew it would happen someday," Liv muttered.

  He didn't laugh, but she could tell he was fighting to hold it in as he approached her. He clasped her arms and said with appropriate somberness
, "I have trained you well. You are ready to be set free onto the unsuspecting masses. Be free, Liv. Be free."

  Liv tried, she really did, but her deadpan, I'm not amused expression, could not stand up under the onslaught of his dramatic speech. Mom was no help with the choking noises she was making. Liv shrugged off his hands and rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide the smile Connor had worked so hard for. "What do you want for breakfast?"

  "Are you making something?"

  Mom said, "I can make you eggs and sausage. Liv is too nervous to eat much of anything."

  "Mrs. Jones, you are such a sweet talker."

  While Mom got started on his breakfast, Connor sat next to her. "Are you really nervous?"

  "A little," she admitted. "I always get a jittery stomach the first day of school."

  "Why? It's just the same old people doing the same old thing."

  Liv took a sip of the coffee she was determined to like. "I know." She didn't elaborate. She would never--absolutely not ever--tell him that each year she hoped she looked different when school started again. A little better, more like a woman.

  This year she might actually have a chance of arriving at that goal. Just two days ago, she'd bought a bra in a bigger size. Somewhere during the summer, she'd gone from wearing a bra designed to create the appearance of breasts to actually having them. They weren't exactly substantial, but they were there. And she'd noticed a new little curvature to her hips. She still wore the same size jeans, but they fitted around her hips, where they used to be pitifully roomy.

  No one had commented. She was hoping it was just because they saw her every day and hadn't necessarily noticed the subtle change. But her friends at school hadn't seen her for a while. Maybe she would sort of surprise them.

  "Uh, yeah, okay," Connor said when Liv didn't say anything else. When Mom put a plate piled full of food in front him, he groaned. "Smells like Heaven." He forked a huge portion of eggs into his mouth. "Whmy hgargh yuouu dinnkun cghoughee?"

  "Gross. Don't talk with your mouth full."

  Connor swallowed. "Sorry, Mother." He took a drink of milk. "Why are you drinking coffee? You hate that stuff."