She wonders if maybe she should let go of her animosity towards Liam. He can’t be all that bad, if he can be so at peace here. Then for reasons she doesn’t know, it makes her sad.
As the others are busy, Moira notices that she and daisy are the only ones left unoccupied. The girls share a look at the same time, and Daisy steps over to her.
“Want to help out Jo with whatever it is she is doing? By the smell, I’m thinking dinner.”
Moira smiles with a nod of her head, and the two of them make a quick exit out of the room. As she follows Daisy towards the smell of chicken, she relishes in this carefree moment. They still have to talk about what they heard on the radio, and she knows it’s not a talk she is going to want to have.
***
They are all sitting at the dining room table together, and Liam almost chokes on a piece of chicken when Charles tells the others a story about him. It’s been like this for a while now, ever since Charles had got home. The man seriously refused to admit they had a problem, and decided to make the best of the situation. This is fine with Liam, anything to take his mind off of things.
The others seem to be enjoying themselves too, much to his pleasure. He can’t help to notice the way Moira’s eyes light up when she laughs, and her laughter is like music to his ears. Usually he would stop himself from thinking anything like this about anyone, especially about a girl that most likely loathes him. But he can’t help the feelings he’s been having regarding her, and he’s not sure he wants too either.
“You’re saying Liam did, what, to a squirrel?” Raven snorts out between sips of her soda.
Liam feels his cheeks heat up as he shakes his head, and shares a look with Charles. Who looks way too pleased with himself to be embarrassing Liam. He doesn’t his friend from explaining though. It wouldn’t sound right not to hear the whole story.
Or at least that is what Liam tells himself. Leaning across his empty plate, Charles smirks as he continues.
“You see, our Liam here, was a very quirky little boy. He always tried to act tougher than he really was, and did the most ridiculous things. One of those was trying to catch a live squirrel.”
Everyone turns to look at him, except for Charles, and give him a ‘are you insane’ kind of expression. He just shrugs and tries not to laugh, and nods at Charles to continue.
“So here was this skinny little ten year old, running around in my back yard like a chicken with its head cut off. He’s not the stealthiest, our Liam. He wound up climbing into a tree, that was too weak for him, and he and the squirrel both came crashing down.”
This gets sounds of alarm and a few displeased ones, like it was his fault for injuring the tree or squirrel. Alright, he admits, it wasn’t his brightest idea.
“As predicted, he and the squirrel were both hurt in the fall and you know what Liam did?” He pauses for dramatic effect and they all hang on his every word.
“The little shit came jumping up screaming to makes sure the damn squirrel was fine. It was of course, but Liam here had a broken leg. And was insufferable for weeks after.”
This makes half of them give him sweet looks, most from the ladies. The other half give him a look that makes him feel like a wuss. He admits to being fine with his manhood.
“Awe, Liam. We had no idea you were so tenderhearted.” Daisy coos at him.
This makes his blush deepen, which makes everyone cackle with laughter, and then of course his blush deepens still. He shakes his head, of all people. He didn’t think sweet Daisy would pick on him. He thinks he is getting to close to these kids, and that can’t be good.
“Come on Daisy, leave the poor guy alone. It’s not his fault he is apparently an old sap.” Ray says admonishingly.
“Thanks man.” Liam retorts back.
Ray nods to him, as if saying, sure anytime. He is about to stick up for his manhood, when he senses the all too familiar apple scent. Turning to face Moira, he finds her watching him with a strange look on her face. It’s one he can’t entirely read either, and it makes him feel kind of funny.
That’s when he realizes the feeling his is persona creeping up on him. It’s like a light buzzing hum that is vibrating along his skin. Unlike all the times before, when it makes him feel out of control and close to changing, this time it doesn’t. Instead this feeling along with the scent, envelope him like a warm blanket on a cold winter night.
It gives him the illusion of being safe. She gives him a brief smile, before she goes back to the new conversation piece with the others. Watching her now, he has a deep sadness and guilt riding up inside him. He blames himself for her not smiling in a long while. He vows to make it a mission to make her smile more, even if things get worse for them.
After dinner, they all split up and he and Charles go into his private study to talk about what is going on. After a lot of explaining on Liam’s part, they are finally on the current topic of the reward out for Moira. Charles is seated behind his old oak desk, and Liam is lounging on a torn loveseat across from him.
“To be completely honest Liam, I don’t like that you’re involved in all this.”
Liam lets out a sigh, and thinks as if he even had a choice in the matter.
“What can I do old mate? Can’t exactly change the past, now can I?”
“No my boy, you can’t. Wouldn’t it be something though if you could?”
That would be something he thinks, there is so much he would change about his past. So many wrongs made right. That isn’t an option though, and this isn’t helping the current problem.
“So what’s your sage advice Charlie?” Liam asks after a moment of silence.
Charles is the one to sigh now, and Lima watches as the man leans back in his desk chair and rub his face with his hands. When he lowers them and sits back up, Liam thinks this is the first time he had ever seen him look so haunted. Things must be bad then, to do that to Charles.
“Be very careful Liam. That is all I can offer for now. Watch your back like a paranoid hawk and don’t trust anyone.”
Liam sits up now and give Charles a once over.
“Seriously that’s it?”
“I’m not kidding Liam, be very careful. Not everyone will be kind enough to help all of you. Don’t even trust some of the pack members you meet. There are spying eyes in every corner, so keep a look out.”
Liam stares at him and doesn’t know what to say. Just that the man has gotten highly paranoid in his old age. But, he is trustworthy and will listen to him anyways.
The guys catch up a while longer with Liam filling Charles on how his parents are doing, mostly skipping his father related topics. He sticks to his mom instead and how she is a front runner for the rights bill that is in works right now. Charles listens but doesn’t really chime in about it, he does talk a great deal about his boys though. It makes Liam wish his own father talked that way about him.
What’s done is done, no use crying over spilled milk on that one. After a while, Charles hands over the infamous passports that they value their lives on. Liam is just relieved he was able to get them in light of the new situation with the reward. Charles reassured him though, saying their names get changed on it for a reason. Good enough, Liam decides.
Following behind Charles, Liam walks into the living room with the others. Ray is sitting on the floor with Casden and Kai playing video games again, and by the older boys groans it seems he is getting his butt kicked. Daisy and Raven are currently helping Jo clean up the dining room table and bring out a dessert of some sort for them.
He notices though, that Moira and Marty both are suspiciously missing from the area. He can’t help the ugly ball of hatred and jealousy that surges through him. He goes over to sit beside Ray and the boys on the floor, even though all he wants is to go yelling for Marty and punch him a good one. He knows that wouldn’t be right and he has no claim to Moira, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling like he does.
Chapter Fifteen
Lying on a strange bed in a strange room makes Moira long for home. It’s a small comfort having Marty beside her, but she still wishes to be someplace else and at another time. After dinner she was feeling strangely tired and needed to lie down. She knows she hasn’t exactly rested like she should, but she doubt lack of sleep is what is making her tired. An option yes, but the reason no.
Moira believes the reasoning behind her exhaustion is based on everything that had happed to her recently. It has to weight on her mind and body, after all that Fletcher did while she was captured. Her body might be healed, but her mind sure isn’t, and she doesn’t know how to make it better.
When she was sitting at the table and laughing with everyone, she felt like an imposter. How can she laugh and be carefree, she thinks, when nothing is. It felt wrong and made her guilty to be able to laugh and smile along with everyone else. She knows she probably has just as much right as anyone else to be happy, especially now, but it feels funny to her. Thank goodness for Marty, she realizes. He noticed before she even did, that she needed to lie down before she fell over.
He is the one that offered to lay down with her so she wasn’t alone. This definitely makes her feel a little better, like she might be able to close her eyes and
not
replay everything that was done to her. She has never really been a wallflower, regardless of her strange upbringing, but somehow lately she has become one.
So that is how she finds herself laying in a queen sized bed with floral patterns on the quilt, in a spare room in yet another strangers house. When they first came in, they both immediately headed over to the fluffy bed and hopped on to rest back against all the decorative pillows.
Moira leans against them now with a sigh and closes her eyes, and tries to ignore the way her skin breaks out in Goosebumps from the way Marty’s bare elbow just grazes her own. They are silent for a while, but she knows it won’t last, Marty and her and experts at prying into the others personal thoughts by now. She can almost do a mental countdown to how long it’ll take him to cave.
5….4…. 3….. 2…. 1…..
“So, ace how are-” he starts, Moira smirks as she turns to give him her sternest false side eye.
“Marty, I swear if you ask me how I am one more time. I’m going to…..I’m going to pinch you!”
He gives her a funny look, as if saying go ahead and try. But then he too is smirking and leans his head back against the pillows and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Pinch me huh?”
Still giving him her sternest look, Moira nods at him and definitely ignores the way his muscles along his forearms tighten while he crosses them.
“You bet it mister. I’ll get you with my nails with only a little bit of your skin, and believe me, it’ll hurt.”
Marty smiles at her and his dark brown eyes twinkle in the dim light of the room.
“I have no doubt in your strength, my little friend.”
This makes Moira puff up to a sitting position, and narrows her eyes at him.
“Who you calling little, buddy?”
Now he holds out his hands in defeat, and gives her a cow look that makes her narrow her eyes eve more at him.
“Simmer down they’re sweet heart, meant no offense.”
She mocks glares at him now and nods at him, like saying you better not, but only means it as a funny. He smiles and returns to his laid back pose on the bed, and he even crosses his ankles over the other. Moira tries to relax some as well, as they fall into a confortable silence. It doesn’t last, at least not for her. It is too hard to forget about things and she remembers that she should probably ask how he is dealing with all this.
After all he was listed as one of her accomplices and that could only have happened if his family was brought into the mix. She mentally chastises herself for not asking him sooner, but takes the opportunity now.
“I’m so sorry Marty.” She says softly, almost too soft for him to hear, but he does anyways and turns to her in alarm.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, and I mean that.”
She gives his her best ‘yeah right’ look before continuing. Can he not let her apologize, she thinks to herself, boys.
“Yes I do, and you’re being too nice by not admitting that I do. If it wasn’t for me you and your family wouldn’t be in the middle of all this crazy.”
He sits up now, and faces her with a look she can’t figure out. He leans over and gently touches her cheek with one of his soft warm hands. She sighs into him against her better judgment and listens to what he has to say.
“I’m not being nice when I say that my family and I have been in the middle of crazy since the beginning. I was born this way Moira, and they were changed for a long time before I even came into their lives.”
She can feel tears blooming at the corner of her eyes, and before they can fall out, Marty raises his hand from her cheek and catches them on his fingertips.
“Crazy is like an old friend coming home, so no worries alright?”
Moira grins slowly at him, and can’t believe she has someone like him in her life. She really doesn’t deserve him, and feels like she met him at just the right time. He lets his hand fall to his side as he leans back against the pillows beside her, and gives her a crooked grin.
“Besides, I consider you an even older friend by now and I have to problem jumping into riffraff with you.”
She rolls her eyes at him, as she turns her head to face him and finds that he too is facing her, making their faces only inches apart.
“Riffraff? I think you mean you’re an old fogie, not an old friend, old man.”
He full out grins, but tries to look wounded from her words.
“How dare you mock my mad skills woman, I ain’t no old man.”
This makes her cackle with laughter and soon Marty joins in on it. He is so close to her now that she can feel the warm breath of him and his eyes are shinning with delight. She is just feeling absolute delight of her own, when his eyes darken slightly. Before she can decipher why, he leans in closer to her so that their lips are just barely touching.
She starts at the contact at first, and doesn’t really understand what just happened, but then he moves in closer and applies more pressure to their enlaced lips. She sighs into him closing her eyes automatically then, and he deftly brings up his hands so that they cup both of her cheeks.