Life After Taylah Read Free Page B

you’re complimenting me or insulting me.”
    He laughs loudly. “It’s a compliment.” He presses a hand over his heart. “Swear.”
    “Liam is looking for you.”
    I lift my head at the sound of the voice behind us and see Kelly entering the courtyard. He’s got a beer in his hand, and he’s giving Nate a look. The look—the one that says what the hell are you doing?
    “Thanks.”
    I stand and turn to Nate, smiling down at him. “It was nice to meet you, Nathaniel.”
    He rolls his eyes dramatically. “Call me Nate, and I didn’t catch your name.”
    I grin. “You figure it out.”
    I turn and walk up to Kelly, placing my hand on his shoulder softly before stepping past him.
    “Goodnight, Dancer!” Nate yells.
    I smile the entire way into the unit.
    ~*~*~*~
    “W hat the fuck are you doin’ here, Avie?” Liam mutters, lighting a cigarette and buttoning up his jeans.
    I stare sadly at my brother. He grew into a lovely-looking man, but he’s damaged himself. Deeply. He’s an asshole, he treats women badly and drugs are doing some serious harm to him. His once gorgeous, blond hair is ratty and forming dreadlocks. His blue eyes—the eyes just like Momma’s—are dull and lifeless. His skin has a constant grey tinge. The only thing he’s got going is the fact that he’s muscled and well built—and I have no doubt that’s because of steroids.
    “I wanted to see you,” I say, walking into his room and cringing at the smell. “I called and you never answered. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
    “Been busy,” he mutters, inhaling deeply and blowing out big grey puffs into the air.
    “Liam,” I begin.
    “Don’t,” he growls. “I don’t need your fuckin’ pity, Avie. It’s the only reason you’re here. You feel sorry for me. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I’m fine; I’m doing fine.”
    “You’re not fine, Liam,” I sigh. “You’re living in a dump and you look like hell.”
    “Well,” he mutters, “not all of us are fuckin’ perfect like you, Avery. We don’t all get Daddy’s money, and we’re not all set up with Prince Charming to live a rich and happy life.”
    I flinch and instantly become defensive.
    “Dad got you this apartment, which was once worth a lot of money. He helps me with dancing because I give him enough respect to let him.”
    “You’re his fuckin’ pride, Avery. He got me this apartment, but it’s nothing on the luxury you fuckin’ live in. You’re worthless without him; at least I’m having a go on my own, not leeching off him and his faggot sidekick.”
    My jaw grinds and I struggle to keep calm. “I come here every week. I call you; I give you most of the money Dad gives me. I don’t keep any of it, Liam. I work for my money; I pay my rent, even though Dad doesn’t want it. I’m doing the right thing—what you’re doing is hurting me over nothing. I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to . . .”
    “I don’t want your fucking help,” he roars. “I don’t want your fucking pity. Stop treating me like you’re my fucking mother. I don’t have a fucking mother—she’s fucking dead!”
    Tears well in my eyes and I struggle to breathe. The door opens behind me and I feel hands on my shoulders.
    “Go, Avery.”
    It’s Kelly.
    I turn and rush from the room, my legs wobbling. I hurry through the crowd, pushing until I reach the front door. I burst out and run to my car. I dig through my pockets—dammit, I can’t find my keys. I shove both hands in, but they’re empty. I look down through the window, and scream in frustration when I see I’ve locked them in. I kick the door, angry. I look around helplessly for a moment, and then decide I’m too angry to go back inside. I have a spare set at home. I’ll just walk.
    I turn and walk off down the street, swiping my eyes furiously to stop the tears sliding down my cheeks. I hear cars going past me, but I keep my face down. It’s going to take me hours to get home, but I don’t