Older half brother, I reminded myself.
“How are you, Liam?” I asked.
“Better now. You’re looking nice.”
I felt myself blush. What a stupid, innocent thing to feel flustered over. He probably said it to every girl he saw.
“Thanks. You do too, I mean.”
His cocky grin got wider, and he glanced at Richie.
“Kid, you mind giving me a second with your teacher?”
He shrugged and stood. He walked off, sitting back down with his back against the stairs about fifteen feet away.
Liam stepped closer to me. “So, how has he been?”
“Better, honestly. At least there haven’t been any more issues.”
He nodded, looking concerned. “I talked to him. I don’t think he’ll do it again.”
“He’s a good kid, Liam.”
“I know that. He just has a tough life, and there are some things I don’t want for him . . .” He trailed off and then caught himself. His concern suddenly disappeared, replaced by a huge grin. “Like getting expelled. No way am I watching him full time.”
I laughed, though I knew that wasn’t what he was thinking. There was something else, something he didn’t want to share with me.
“Believe me, he’s one of the easy ones.”
There was a short pause.
“Listen, what are you doing tomorrow night?” Liam suddenly asked.
I was a little taken aback. “Uh, nothing. Why do you ask?”
“I own a bar and restaurant place in south Philly. I’d love to have dinner with you, on the house, as a thank you for taking care of my little brother.”
His confident smile cut through any awkwardness I might have felt. I had to deal with other fathers, mostly scumbag husbands who wanted to flirt with the young schoolteacher, but Liam was the first guy I actually wanted to go out with. And he was probably the first single one, too.
“Yeah, as a thank you?” I teased.
He nodded. “No strings attached.”
“Something tells me you have ulterior motives,” I said, biting my lip.
His whole demeanor suddenly changed, and he stepped closer to me, speaking quietly.
“Would that be okay with you?” he asked.
My mouth hung open at his intense and sudden shift, though I could tell there was something calculated in his movements. It was almost as if he could read me, as if he knew that I wanted to feel what it was like to squeeze his muscular shoulders as he kissed my neck.
“I’m not sure it would be appropriate.”
I felt a little breathless with him standing so close.
“That’s exactly why you should say yes.”
“Okay,” I said, without thinking.
“Good. Tomorrow. What’s your number?”
He pulled out his cell phone and looked at me expectantly.
As I rattled off my number, I wondered: what the hell just happened? I was all ready to turn him down gently, but then I’m suddenly agreeing to see him. It was like I lost my mind because of how close he stood to me.
“Great. Have a good night, Miss Boucher,” he said once I finished.
He was so arrogant. So fucking cocky. I couldn’t believe he came on to me right there in front of the school with his little brother just a few feet away.
And I couldn’t believe I went for it.
“You too, Mr. Sullivan.”
I smiled and he turned away, gathered Richie up, and walked off, back the way he had come. I watched them and shook my head softly to myself.
He was definitely more animal than rational. But I couldn’t tell yet exactly how much, or how badly I wanted to find out.
After that, the kids all filtered onto their busses, the parents shut their doors and hung up their phones, and people slowly left the building, out to other places. I watched them all go, not feeling any particular hurry, though a little guilty about making Petey wait for his nightly walk. Finally, when I was one of the last few people left, I walked down the steps and headed back toward my apartment.
I felt good, really good. I felt good for the first time in a while.
Chapter Five: Liam
The van hit a pothole, jostling me around. I grimaced as I was crushed against the cold steel of the exposed door.
Max grinned at me. “Buckle up,” he grunted.
I gave him a look, not in the mood to deal with his bullshit. He shrugged and looked away.
I stared back down at my fingers and felt the blood again, the junkie’s blood, and knew it would be worse this time, much worse. The weight of the black pistol with its long, smooth silencer was more a burden than a reassurance. We’re always told guns are protection, guns are necessary, but in that moment the gun felt like a burning hot iron I was forced to hold on to like my life depended on it.
And truthfully, my life did depend on it.