More Than Scars (18 page)

I watched him with careful eyes. No, I would not back down or give him his pride. He had withheld this from me. I deserved to know why. I deserved to hear why, as he looked me in the face, and I in his.

I followed his lead, hushing Amelia’s protest, and getting her into bed.

I kissed her forehead, and then walked to Brianne’s bed, not even acknowledging him. “Are you okay
Bri?” I wiped a wet curl from her eyes.

“I don’t want you to go
Rissa. Stay. I don’t want you hurt too. If you stay, you’ll be safe. It’s safe here.”

I smiled at her, leaning in to kiss her. “You’re right, it’s safe here…and it’s safe in my room too.”

I then thought of Liam rushing through my rooms to get to her. So easily he was there.

I turned slightly to him. “Obviously, Daddy was able to get to you so quickly, so I must be safe.”

I heard his throat clear. “The door…I, well I have to be able to get quickly to them.” He sighed. “I never would have...but…”

“You should sleep,” I sighed out to Brianne, cutting him off. “The bad dream is gone. We are all safe.” I kissed her again and started to get up.

She protested, and grabbed my hand. I tucked her hand under her covers. “I need to talk to your Daddy. I will come and stay until you fall asleep.”

“Daddy too?”

“Daddy as well,” Liam whispered. I thought I heard nervousness in his voice now. He quickly made his way to my side of the bed, and without a word grabbed my hand. I glanced up, only to the hand tugging mine.

Suddenly talking to him made me nervous.
I was allowed to change my mind, right? “Maybe I should stay with Bri,” I whispered softly.

His strong fingers flexed about mine. “Come,” he whispered back.
“Only for a moment.” His voice was full of pleading, and the rich deep voice wooed me.

I let his strength pull me from the bed.

He pulled me through the dark room into my own rooms. I pulled my hand from the warmth and electricity of his touch as soon as we were through the door.

He’d pulled me out of the moonlit girl’s room into my own, and I now knew his motive. He had brought me, where I had drawn the drapes, where I couldn’t see him.

I stared up to where his face should be, and could only see the outline of him. “You certainly know your way through these rooms in the dark,” I growled softly.

“I’ve been navigating in the dark for some time now,” he whispered back.

My heart stuttered at the double meaning in his words, but I wouldn’t let it soften my anger. “You have access to my room?”

He groaned softly. “Not for any untoward purposes! My room is beside yours. It was the fastest way to her, or I never would have.” He drew in a breath. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. I can’t stand the thought of you being mad at me.”

That voice set my stomach to flutter. I huffed, as his words deflated me. Who was I to think he’d want to enter my rooms for any other reason than to save his screaming child?

“I’m not just mad about that!” I felt him move closer, as I raised my voice. I lowered it, knowing it would upset the children.

“Please, don’t…” again I sensed him step toward me.

“No you don’t.” I held out a hand, and felt it come in contact with his chest. I paused for a moment, absorbing that fact, then blushed, but held my ground and kept it there. Was my hand really tingling where I touched him? “You expect me to respect your pride, and not look at you, not question you…” my voice felt breathy coming out. “I do that, but in turn, you tell me everything I should know to help these girls! You broke your end of the bargain!”

His heart was slamming against my hand. I could feel the deep breaths he was taking, felt the fight in him. He reached his hand up to cover mine, pressing it closer to his heart. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Please, forgive me.”

I pulled away, when Brianne called out to me again.

When my hand slid from under his, he pressed my fingers, so I had to slide against his skin. I felt the ridge of a scar on his chest. It hurt physically, and I wanted to see him, see all the damage he’d endured, every scar. What trust it would take for him to show me! Yet he had held my hand to it. He had to know I felt the ragged smoothness of the healed wound.

I rushed passed him, back into the girls room.

“I’m here,” I whispered, setting on the edge of her bed. I heard Amelia’s soft breathing from the other side of the room. The little one was so exhausted she had not needed me there to help her drift back to sleep.

“And Daddy?”

“I’m here too,” he answered, sitting on the other side.

She smiled up at him trustingly.

              I heard his gentle inhale.

“Daddy, can you sing to me?”

Liam chuckled. “You don’t want to hear an old bull frog like me sing.”

“Yes I do. You aren’t a bull frog Daddy.” She reached for him, taking his hand, and then mine.

“Fine,” he sighed, and gave a nervous chuckle.

I listened intently, remembering Stewart’s remarks about his musical talents. Thought of Ian’s praise! I was sure the nervousness was because of my presence.

He had no reason to be nervous.

When he opened his mouth and began to sing, I could have sworn an angel had entered the room to serenade us. Liam Byrne had the voice of an angel when he spoke, and when he sang.

The song was familiar. I’d heard it many times. It was Lullaby by Billy Joel. And I would bet any money he could play it splendidly on the piano as well. A lump grew in my throat, as he sang to his daughter. The love he had for her was evident, and it was a love I recognized. My own fathers love.

A love that made men lay their life down to defend and protect. I thought of Liam standing in the way when someone tried to harm his daughter, his wife. Had he done as my father had. Did he fight off a man so out of his mind he would slash an innocent?

My eyes traveled the scars on his hand on Brianne’s. I choked back more tears. My eyes continued their journey along the forearm riddled in slashes, the long slash up his biceps, and crisscrossing his shoulder. A long deep furrow rent the expanse of his muscled chest and down the flat of his stomach. My tears welled, and his voice pushed on, soothing and loving. My eyes lifted to his collar, his throat, awash in light now for the light coming through the window. I watched his throat reverberate with the song he sang. A chin, perfect, lips sensuous and also unmarred moving over beautiful teeth…and I tore my gaze away. I would not look. I could not break that trust he had in me. I would not sneak when he was so vulnerable. I would not look at his face until he allowed it.

He finished his song, and smoothed a hand down her face. She had fallen fast asleep. She indeed looked like an angel lying there. I smiled in relief that her fear was over for the moment.

I bent down to kiss her, and then turned to get off the bed. I had to will my legs to cooperate, and when I finally looked up, he stood before me, his back against the light from the window, once more a silhouette.

He took me by the elbow, and led me back to my room. I followed without question, and without argument. Everything about him told me I could trust him. I could trust him with my very life if necessary. No one had to convince me of this. We again entered my rooms, and I felt a strange excitement run through my veins.

My heart leapt, as he turned me, and set my back against the wall. We were in pure darkness once more. I could only hear our breathing, as my senses were now in overdrive. I could feel the heat of his body. I could smell him, and wished I could feel him, but his hands had fallen away from me.

“Thank you,” he whispered. I felt his breath on my face.

“Thank you for what?” I whispered back. Yes, I heard the tremble in my voice.

“You didn’t look.” He took in a breath. “I was watching you.” His voice went soft, and he drew in another breath.

My skin prickled with goose bumps at the gratitude in his voice. “And you didn’t turn away?”

“You were right. I broke my end of the bargain. You deserved to do the same.”

“I won’t,” I whispered. “But I do want to see your face.”

I heard him frown. Crazy as that sounds, I did. It was like I had super human powers in the electric filled atmosphere of his making.

“I don’t want you to,” he murmured.

“Why not?”

“You will be disappointed.”

I shook my head, and then realized he may not be able to see me. “No, that’s just not possible.”

“You saw how I was before. I had the attention of everyone around me. I feel like you sometimes imagine me that way.”

I sighed. “I don’t! “ I felt frustration well up in me. “Do you know what I see?”

He drew in a deep breath. “What?”

“A man respected by all that work for him because you treat people with decency. I see a father who races to his daughter’s bedside at the first sound of trouble. I see hands…” I reached out and found one. “…
that have been through so much pain, but give comfort. And I hear a voice that stirs me any time I get the chance to listen to it. You are so much more than a face Mr Byrne.” I held his hand with both of mine. I don’t know what drove me to do so, but I lifted his hand to my lips, and kissed the scar I had studied many times that ran across his first knuckle.

I heard his sharp gasp. I felt his fingers tense, but he did not pull away. He keened closer, his forehead touched mine, and I felt as though warm water was shot into my veins. He pressed my hands to his chest. His face moved, so that now his cheek was flush to mine. “
Nerissa,” he whispered softly in my ear. The stubble of his jaw scored my skin, and it sent my stomach tumbling. My knees wanted to give out, so I locked them. He brushed his cheek along mine, and I felt the edge of the raised scar. I drew in a breath. He had said my name!

“Let me see you.”

I felt the muscle in his jaw flex. I heard him swallow hard.

“No, not yet.”

I wanted this man, sight unseen. But there was something I desired more than his touch, and that was his trust! I ached for it.

“Please?”

He growled deep in his throat, and stepped back slightly. He captured one of my hands and lifted it slowly toward his face. “You can feel my ugliness, and maybe that will be enough.”  He set the tips of my right hand on his forehead, where I felt the edge of what had to be a scar right above his eye. “Just one, jagged ugly line, but he made sure it was a good one. The girls call it a two,” he attempted to add some humor to his voice, but it came out shaky, as though this was costing him.

Holding my breath, I followed the line softly. It was severe and
raised and I felt it as if I had been cut myself. It crept from the midline of his forehead, around his eye, just touching the corner. I felt his eyelashes brush the tips of my fingers as he blinked and there was wetness there. His hand trembled over mine as he continued to guide mine. The scar traveled diagonally down the apple of his cheek, and then veered nearly straight across his cheek, as if the attacker had been going for his mouth, and Liam had turned sharply, so that it now lead  back toward his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” I wept softly. His hand dropped, but I did not remove my hand.

“I was out when he started on my face. I woke up just in time to pull away.” His voice trembled. “He’d already taken Jade’s life. Brianne had hidden, away in the bushes.” He choked back a cry. “She saw it all!” He cupped my face with his hands, and leaned his forehead into mine again. “I couldn’t protect her…she protected herself!”

I trembled when the tip of his nose brushed mine. The magic warmth I often felt in his presence overwhelmed me. “You are the one with the battle scars,” I whispered.

“She saw it all, and she doesn’t understand her dreams! I should have fought harder!”

The anguish in his voice reverberated through me. “Don’t,” I whispered. “You protected her as best you could.” My heart accelerated, when his thumbs brushed my cheeks. His lips brushed my cheek, and my breath caught. “Liam,” I moaned softly in protest at the feelings he was stirring in me.

His breath caught. “Say that again,” he murmured.

His breath on my lips made my stomach free fall. “You protected her…”

“No, my name,” he moaned softly.

I swallowed hard. “Liam.”

He inhaled sharply and I felt a touch that was feather light, barely there…his lips never quite resting on mine, before a scream rent the night once more, and he was gone. He was again running to his daughter’s aid. I was left leaning against the wall, and trying with all my might not to slide down it.