Jane stood in front of Chaz' front door where her daughter currently was living and frowned deeply. She wasn't sure why she wasn't able to knock at the door at that moment and to face her daughter. She reasoned that she was afraid she could lose her composure the moment she lay her eyes on Liz. She knew that it was a bad idea to turn on her heels and disappear again without even trying it, but she considered it.
She took a deep breath and knocked, Leslie opened the door and let the older woman in without saying a word. She didn't say a word either and followed the redhead in a sunroom. She rounded the corner and held her breath as soon as her eyes landed on the woman who sat on a wooden chair. She didn't expect that Liz would look so small and helpless these days, but she expected that her daughter would stare outside the window even though someone else was present in the room. She still remembered how she started to panic the moment her daughter felt sick as a small child and Maura wasn't around. How she nearly freaked out and how Liz reassured her that she'd feel better after some rest.
She heaved a sigh and dropped a briefcase that held her personal notes loudly on the table in front of the younger woman and took her jacket off, trying to avoid glancing at the bandages around Liz' wrists. She could play the game, too. The game of being distant. "Didn't your mother teach you that it is rude to ignore your guests?"
"Seems like I missed that part, yeah," the younger woman mumbled still without looking at her mother.
Jane clenched her jaw and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Seems like you've been missing a lot of things she taught you." She snapped, she didn't mean to, but she couldn't hold back her upcoming anger.
That comment made Liz turn her head and her eyes were hard. "Why are you here?"
Jane's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Why I'm … Your still my daughter after all."
"I can't change that fact."
That was it! Jane took the briefcase from the table again, and then her jacket. "You know what? I didn't come here only to face you, ungrateful snotty little miss. I came here to help you."
"And I didn't ask for your help." Liz shot back and clenched her jaw the second she saw the pain in her mother's eyes. "I didn't ask for you to come here."
Jane threw her briefcase back on the table and furrowed her brows. "Are you not hearing what I'm saying, kid? I am your mother! It is my job to be here and help you, it is my job to be worried about you. Just because you've been ignoring these duties for years, it doesn't mean I'm doing the same."
Anger blazed in Liz' eyes and she clenched her fists like she was about to attack the other woman. Jane, on the other hand, wasn't impressed by the move and folded her arms over her chest. She wasn't afraid of picking up a fight with Liz because she knew she'd win it. "You got something to say?"
"You have no clue why I ran." The younger woman growled. "You shouldn't talk about things you know nothing about."
Jane was sure that Liz had to bite back the word Ma and sighed again. "Then tell me why you thought you had to run, Liz. Tell me why you disappeared for five years because -" She paused and shrugged. "Because I don't get it. Have your mom and I had been such bad parents that you didn't see a reason to talk to us? That you didn't confide in us? Has your marriage been so awful that you didn't see any other way than to leave Adam and your newborn son behind?" She stopped and furled her brows. "Do you have an idea what you put your mother through the moment you left without a second thought? What you put all of us through? Adam was looking for you everywhere he could, Mom contacted every possible hospital and morgue, hoping that you wouldn't turn up in any of them. I pushed all my contacts in the U.S to look out for you and to give me a call the second they get a hint where you could be. We thought that you are dead and ended up in a morgue as a Jane Doe. That someone got you, murdered you, and dumped you in a roadside ditch. Mom has been crying every single night, for years. And when Zane turned old enough and started to ask where you are, we told him that you are running a deep undercover operation and that you'll be home as soon as you can. Even if you won't believe it, Liz, this little boy has been asking for you the moment he started to speak. And then you turn up in a hospital in Boston, arrested for murder. You can call yourself lucky that Frankie and Adam are still working at BPD, Elizabeth. You can call yourself lucky that Adam is still loyal to you."
"Yeah," Liz murmured but looked back out of the window to hide the tear that was running down her right cheek. "that's why he was the one who arrested me. He's so loyal."
"He was just doing his job." The former detective replied louder and raised her brows high. "Would you have preferred some foreign cop to make the arrest?"
"Yes," the younger woman whispered without looking at her mother. "I'd have preferred that."
Jane took a moment and then she sat down on a chair across from Liz. "Why," she asked, this time gently, but her daughter didn't answer and didn't look at her. "Do you still love him?"
Liz inhaled shakily and stared out of the window, concentrating on the clouds which passed by. She wasn't willed to admit that she indeed had still feelings for the father of her child. She wasn't willed to risk the lives of the ones she loved most.
Jane knew better and kept her hands to herself even though her heart demanded a single touch to make sure that her daughter was indeed still warm and alive. To make sure that her mind didn't trick her and held her trapped in a dream. "You do, don't you?" She waited for a response but didn't get one. She took a deep breath and opened her briefcase, getting her notes out of it. "Okay, can you tell me what you remember after waking up at the crime scene?"
That made Liz looking back at her mother and frown. "You're not on duty anymore."
Jane wiggled her brows and crossed her legs. "True, but that doesn't mean that my instincts are sharp no more."
"I can't ask you to help me, Ma."
"Well, if it makes you feel better, you can buy me and mom a dinner, or a short trip to the Maldives. Two weeks should do it."
That made Liz smile for the very first time and she leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath.
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"Can you explain that again, Laverty?"
"I'm just looking for more information about your former partner," Adam said calmly. Although, frankly, he himself didn't know how much information he needed at all, let alone what he was looking for - or why. Even if Liz was an accomplice, he wouldn't have to dig deep. He just couldn't help it.
Officially, Liz Rizzoli was no longer his business. But damn it, he just couldn't let it go. Why not, it was a mystery to himself. But he couldn't give her up.
"What else do you want to know," Danielson asked sadly and quietly. "I feel bad because I've already told you so much, and now you want to hear more?"
Adam sighed, turned his chair and stared out the window. "Yeah, I want as much as possible, the more I know, the better I can help."
"Oh, nonsense." Danielson laughed, but even over the phone, it was clear that it wasn't meant to be humorously. "Don't fool me, you don't want my help, you want the last nail to her coffin, not with me, I don't want to do that to my partner."
The line went dead.
"Former partner," Adam mumbled. Then someone tapped on his shoulder and he hung up. He turned around and frowned. He was looking in the face of his nephew Percy, the last one he'd have expected now. Intimidated, the boy cleared his throat. He looked like a kicked animal.
He and his father had moved to Boston two years ago after Percy's mother passed away.
Adam looked at his nephew and wondered where his cheeky, almost reckless demeanor was. "Are you okay, Percy?"
"Sure." The boy shrugged his shoulders, walked around the desk, and absent-mindedly made a few coins jingle in his trouser pocket like Adam always did when he was nervous or distracted.
Exactly because of that, Adam didn't carry any more change with him, because such insignificances brought one down during interrogation. To show nervousness or tension was extremely unwise.
Percy stopped in front of the desk and shifted from one foot to the other. "You didn't happen to see Mom's pendant; the stupid necklace is cracked."
Aha. That explained his pitiful face. Adam leaned back. "No, not that I know, I'm sorry. How long have you been looking for the pendant?"
"For a few days." Dejected, the tall, lean boy plopped down on a chair and stared into nothing.
"Do you remember when you have seen the necklace the last time?"
Percy exhaled in annoyance. "Dude, how would I know that? Probably sometime in the morning, after a shower, then it was gone." He looked at Adam, but then looked away and around the room.
"Did you ask your dad?"
"Nah." From one second to the other, Percy closed up. He crossed his arms over his small chest and jumped up. "I'm off again, you have to do your stupid cop thing."
"Percy -"
The boy stopped in the door.
Adam sighed. "I keep my eyes open and ask around a bit." That wouldn't do much, but he felt he should do something or at least say something. "Maybe it'll show up again."
Percy nodded and disappeared with a hanging head and slumped shoulders.
That poor boy.
Adam wished he could help his nephew, give him some advice. But Percy didn't let anyone in now. As soon as Adam had a little more time, the two needed to talk. But now he had to go to Frankie. Since Liz was no longer their suspect, he needed an update.
Maybe he would check on Liz. Even as this thought came to him, he tried to suppress it, because he wasn't supposed to think about Liz like that. Whether she was responsible for Chaz's injuries or not, the woman had mental problems. He couldn't allow being involved in such a matter.
Adam was about to gather his belongings and to get up from his chair as an older man approached his desk. He knew the older detective for years already. Detective Trent Newman was a pleasant fellow. He was always friendly, and his voice was calm, it never happened that the seasoned cop lost his patience. Adam frowned as soon as he saw the serious expression of Newman, he knew immediately that something was bothering him. "What's the matter, Newman?"
Instead of answering, Newman put his hand in his pocket and pulled something out. Whatever it was, it was so small that it fit into his fist and held it closed so that Adam couldn't see the object.
"I can't even exactly say why I've saved this," Newman began thoughtfully. "I was standing in front of my burning house, watching it go up in flames, thinking of how proud my grandma always was on this house, how much she loved it, I was so mad, and still I am, then I have looked at the ground and saw it. "
"What have you seen, Trent?" Adam's stomach clenched, and he felt hot and cold. He clenched his teeth and stood up.
Newman's green eyes were on him. His gaze should have been hard, ice cold or raging, but Adam found compassion in them. Then he knew it, he suddenly knew it. And even before the older man opened his hand and let the golden pendant dangle between his thumb and forefinger. Adam looked away and closed his eyes. But he still could see the gently swinging cross in front of him. Percy's cross. It's Percy's, he thought to himself. The words were on his tongue, but he swallowed them, unable to say them out loud. Fuck.
He couldn't say the sentence aloud and thus reveal what it was, not to a longtime friend ... Fuck. Fuck.
Adam dropped his jacket over the back of his chair, started pacing up and down in the room, and ran his hands over his face. He couldn't breathe. Damn, he couldn't breathe. Also, that he loosened the knot of his tie did not help. What if something had happened to the stupid boy? Or if someone would have been in the house?
"Laverty?"
He turned and met the eyes of the other detective. He bit his tongue. He wanted to scream, curse, hit something. Wanted to go to his brother and beat him, so he finally woke up and saw how screwed up his son was by already. Someone had to do something.
"What's wrong, Laverty," Newman asked.
Adam shook his head. He couldn't do it.
"It's Percy's necklace, isn't it," Newman said calmly. "I'm sure I saw him in the city with it around his neck about two weeks ago. " He slipped the pendant into his palm and looked at it. "Didn't look like a typical necklace that teens wear, you know, unless he's gotten it from his girlfriends." With a look at Adam, he added, "Or from the deceased mother."
Silence set in.
"That doesn't convict him." Adam suddenly said. "This necklace doesn't mean anything.
"No." Newman pursed his lips, placed the necklace on the edge of Adam's desk, and put his hands in the pockets of his pants. "And, officially, it wasn't found in my backyard, so after all you know, I spotted it on the side of the road and picked it up, and I'm lying to you right now."
"Damn it." Adam rubbed the back of his neck. Suddenly he turned around and rammed his fist against the wall where his desk stood. Pain shot through him, his skin spilled open, and he stared at his knuckles as the blood began to flow. Then he took out a handkerchief and wrapped it around his hand. He looked to Newman. "What will you do?"
Newman shrugged. "I don't know, but your nephew is crazy."
"He's not crazy."
"Oh, he absolutely is." He threw his hand in the air and whirled around to glare at Adam angrily. "I feel sorry for the kid. Do you think I want him to be charged with such a crime, how old is he ... fourteen, fifteen? He's a kid, damn, and his whole life is still ahead of him. He just has to understand it." Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. "But he will not if he doesn't get his act together, no one has been hurt ... this time, but you can't pretend that nothing has happened. Do you want to rap him over the knuckles to make him go and sweep up the ashes that used to be my house? Do you think that would give him a piece of your mind? He needs professional help, Laverty. And you know that as well as I do. "
Adam's stomach clenched as he looked away from Newman and the golden cross on his desk. He remembered how his nephew had looked just a few minutes ago. Damn it. Why had the boy come to him and confide in him? With burning eyes and narrowed throat, he looked again at Newman. "What do you want to hear, what the hell am I supposed to do?"
"Get him help, for God's sake, you're a cop, so think up something, do something, organize help for him, jail isn't for the boy, but you can't just pretend that nothing happened."
Adam took a deep breath and dropped the pendant into the top drawer of his desk after the older man turned to leave.
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Some would have said that a smart man wouldn't show up here.
He thought there was no better place to be right now. Watching Liz was just the best. It was great. Although hell was going on in Boston. If anyone saw a strange shadow creeping around in the woods, well, then maybe he would get a load of shotgun pellets in the buttocks. He was here anyway. She had been in the hospital, and rumors spread around that she was almost arrested. He had caught the words insane and criminal.
At the thought alone, he had to giggle. Liz ... insane. He laughed. She looked as if she would start screaming at the slightest noise as if she would pass out if someone jumped out from behind a tree. And they had wanted to arrest her for aggravated battery, maybe even for murder? That was too amusing.
But now she was free again ... and she would probably run away soon. That's what she always did. And he just needed to wait and watch.
As soon as she ran away ...
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"I shouldn't be here," Liz murmured. The sun was shining on her back as she wandered around the porch, and yet she froze.
Chaz was sitting on a canopy swing with his eyes closed. But he didn't sleep. Rather, he opened one eye, peered in her direction, his gaze smart and intense, and then he closed it again. "You're not leaving, Liz."
She looked at him with narrowed eyes and continued to wander around. "That's not your decision," she hissed.
That made him smile, but he didn't say anything.
No. She wouldn't leave. Not now.
Three days. She had been back in this house for three whole days, and each one of them had turned out to be the purest nightmare. Just because she was back in Boston, she felt a tingling sensation on her skin. The whole time she was haunted by reminiscences of that night. They were blurry and fragmented, but even that was enough.
Neither she nor Chaz could remember the events of that night, which was not surprising in Chaz's case, given how badly he had been beaten up. That she had been hit in the back of the head might easily explain the loss of memory, but she wondered if that veil that laid over everything might have been due to her cowardice and that she was pushing something to the back of her mind.
Again, and again Liz saw James Waterston in front of her. She held her hands over her eyes, so she could fend off the few images of the night that were storming at her. Most clearly, Waterston's expression had burned into her memory, rigid, yet full of miserable, pitiful horror, as if he'd died with a plea for mercy.
He didn't deserve that. Sure, he had been a chauvinist asshole, but nobody deserved such a death.
The landline rang.
She flinched and looked to the door. "I'll get it."
"I can get up, Liz." He replied and made a face.
"And I'm already standing." When she realized how hard her words sounded she blushed. She turned around, entered the house and took the cordless phone from the kitchen counter. After a glance at the display, she made a face and almost wished that Chaz would be here right now. The display showed the number of the BPD, a number she still knew by heart. She took the call. Her answer sounded rough.
When Adam answered her, his way to talk calmed her a little. "Hello, Li - Miss Rizzoli. Can I please talk to Chaz?"
Without another word, she brought Chaz the phone and tried not to think about the man at the other end of the line.
She tried to suppress the feeling that aroused her in because of that deep, pleasant voice. It amazed her that she still knew that feeling. For years no one has triggered such a feeling in her.
She really had to stop seeing him as a man.
Don't see him as a man, but a cop. Hello, the guy wanted to arrest you.
That was supposed to make it clear once and for all that he was not a man she should think about. She didn't even think about any guys. Basta. She no longer trusted them. She didn't need them. Chaz was the exception, and he didn't count as a man for her. He was just Chaz, her best friend ... and he was not dangerous. The rest of the male species could go the way of the dodo bird if it was about her, so they would do her a favor. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She wasn't sure why she thought so. The extinction of the male species would include her own son. That was something she didn't want to happen, Zane being no more.
A low voice from the bottom of her heart whispered to her that Adam was different. She closed her eyes and thought back on they met for the very first time in her favorite bar. How Leslie has been sitting with her at their favorite table, and how suddenly a tall man with blond hair and blue eyes asked them if he could sit with them. How they had a nice evening together and then, all of a sudden, Leslie bit her goodbye, and she and Adam suddenly had been on their own. He told her honestly that his friends wanted him to pick her up but that he wasn't that kind of guy and that he enjoyed spending the evening with her instead with his buddies. At the end of the evening, he kept his hands to himself and asked her if they could do that again, spend time with each other after their shift at BPD. He didn't hide the fact that he was the new detective in the homicide unit, and she didn't hide the fact that she was a patrol officer at the same precinct. Since then they started to build their relationship slowly but surely. Get a hold of yourself, Elizabeth. She shook her head, leaned back against the counter and looked up. Chaz lowered the phone. "Well, has he changed his mind? Does he want to lock me up now?"
"Stop it," Chaz growled and grimaced again. "No, he actually planned to come over and talk to me, but he had something else came up, so we postponed it." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Liz, no one is coming to arrest you. Relax."
"Relax?" She placed a hand on her stomach, which was clenching again. How was she supposed to relax when it felt like someone was watching her steps, watching her every move? Lurking …
Shuddering, she repressed this idea and looked into Chaz' bruised face. "Are you hungry? You hadn't had much for breakfast."
He rolled his eyes at her. "Elegant change of topic, honey."
She gave him a combative smile. "Alright, Charles, honey, I don't want to talk about this matter, so let's leave it. Would you like to eat something or not? "
To her surprise, he gave her a wide grin, but flinched again and put a hand to his mouth, the crack in his lower lip had open again. "You know, you've been bossing me pretty much since we two are not in the hospital anymore ... I almost expected you to leave so fast you'd just leave a cloud of dust behind you, instead, you turned in one little bitch. What's going on? "
Liz only shrugged her shoulders. She didn't know how to start to explain it. It had something to do with being taken to a hospital. By the fact that these people had instilled her medication ... And with those damn bandages around their wrists ... She looked down and touched one of the patches, feeling the wound underneath it … When she lifted her head, she met Chaz' eyes.
A well-known expression lay in his them. Compassion and understanding were reflected in them. He reached for her hands, pushing her fingers away from the wound. "You'll have worked your way out of this hole before, in whatever you got into it this time, you'll get yourself out of it again. Leslie and I are here to help you. "
Liz narrowed her eyes and pulled her hands from his. The compassion in his eyes got on her nerves. Anger rose in her, hot, strong and devastating, and she wanted to break free. A dark, scary memory moved somewhere in her mind. She couldn't say exactly what had happened that night ... and didn't know if she wanted to know. She saw Waterston, saw blurry pictures of Chaz ... He had been in serious trouble, so much she remembered. But she hadn't done that to herself. She knew that as sure as she knew her own name, as sure as she knew her eye and hair color. And she was so fed up that people thought otherwise. Even Chaz and Leslie ... who always trusted her, always believed in her and stood by her side. He thought that she was so weak that she dared to slit her wrists while he lay helpless and bleeding on the ground. She turned and walked down the steps, unsure where to go, and she wouldn't walk around alone in the area, but she didn't want to go into the house either. Disappointment and anger seized her, and even before she realized it, her emotions boiled over. Immediately she whirled around and glared at Chaz. "I haven't done that."
For an infinitely long moment, he stared at her as if he couldn't quite understand what she had said. "What do you mean," he then asked in a deep, raspy voice.
"Well, that I didn't do that." She stormed back up the steps, almost trembling as this unknown, raging fury ran through her. She knew fear. She knew uncertainty. She knew doubts. And anger. But to be so angry? She did not know that. She barely understood it and could only control herself with difficulty when it burst out of her. With trembling hands, she loosened the bandages, tore them down and dropped them to the floor. The stitches lifted ugly from her olive flesh, the fine red scars glowing fresh. She held out her wrists to Chaz and stared at him. "This," she snorted. "I didn't do that. Hell, I didn't do it myself."
"Liz -"
"Stop that Oh, that'll be all right again, Charles. Could you please think for a moment? You were lying on the floor, you were injured and bleeding, you're the only person who still means something to me, do you really believe that I would happily slit my wrists in this situation?" Tears of anger, pain, fear took away her vision and ran down her cheeks. Angrily, she wiped them off and blinked at him. "Think about it, Chaz!"
He stared at her for a long moment ... then he understood. "That son of a bitch." He growled low, whirling around and ramming his left fist with such force in the wall that the plaster crumbled.
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Percy stared at the hour hand of the kitchen clock and tried not to show how uncomfortable he felt. His uncle had called his dad and told the old man he needed to talk to them both. He glanced aside to see if his father had any idea what was going on, but he couldn't have looked more disinterested. In his eyes, blue like Percy's, blue like Adam's, lay an absent expression as he stared at his monitor, probably answering emails again. But honestly, how many damn emails could an insurance agent get?
Dad spent more time being an insurance agent than being a dad. After all, he already had enough responsibility. Insurance agent Henry, Hank, Laverty didn't want to skip out on his customers ... he had just forgotten his son.
He let him down every damn day. That's how it has been since Mom died. Percy just didn't exist anymore. For no one ... He noticed that tears were burning in his eyes and got up violently from the chair. His dad looked up.
Percy wandered to the fridge and asked, "Did Uncle Adam say when he's coming or how long the shit here should last? I have other things to do, you know."
"No, he didn't say that and don't curse like that, Percy." With lips pressed together, his father glanced at the clock. "If he doesn't come soon, I'll call him, there's work to do for me and -"
Then they heard an engine.
Outside, they saw a dented pickup turn off the road and drive toward their house.
"Who is that," Hank asked, frowning, then let out a sigh. "I really don't have time for that," he mumbled.
Percy hardly heard the old man. He stared at the pickup, and the blood rushed in his ears. Uncle Adam didn't drive such a car ... but Trent Newman did. At the thought, Percy's heart dropped - he straightened his back, so his legs wouldn't shake, and told himself to stay calm. So, he put on a bored expression and took a coke from the fridge. Hell, Newman should suspect whom he wanted. Maybe he didn't know anything. Percy took a long swig of the bubbling, cold liquid, trying to soothe his nervous stomach. But then the pickup stopped, and Trent Newman didn't get out alone.
When Percy saw his uncle Adam, his heart almost stopped. Crap. Okay, his uncle appeared with Newman. That wasn't good. Strangely enough, he remembered all the stupid police shows that his dad loved to watch. And had to remember that he always wondered why the hell people were trying to run away. They would be caught anyway. That's how it always went. But at that moment Percy thought of nothing else but running. He wanted to run away more than anything else. He didn't notice how firmly he closed his hand around the can of soda until the cool liquid ran over his hand.
"He's going to run," Newman said low, who was watching Percy through a window while he parked the car in front of the house. He made a face, rubbed his thigh and asked himself if he was able to run after a scared, desperate teenager.
"It can happen." Adam's features were petrified, the look of his blue eyes icy.
"Do you think, he gets up to something?"
"Damn it." Adam gave Newman a scowl. His usual charming cheerfulness was overshadowed by stress and grief. He looked tired. Tired and depressed. "The boy burned a house, damn it, yes, I think he could get up to something."
Newman was sorry for the man and he shook his head. "I didn't mean that houses, well ... sure, they burn, but no one got hurt, and he didn't get hurt either. But do you think we'll regret that we didn't take backup with us?"
"God, I hope not," Adam replied before he got out of the pickup. Yes, Adam could imagine Percy running, just as the older detective. The boy's big blue eyes were darker than usual, the pupils were enlarged. In addition, his face looked pale and sweat was on his forehead. He wondered why his brother didn't notice any of the signs. Hank had always been someone who focused on the big goal, but Adam had thought that included his family, too. Apparently, he was wrong, because his brother didn't even start to suspect what was going on in his son. But that was what the man has been like this for quite some time. Since Sherly's death.
Adam led Newman into the kitchen.
"I hope this isn't going to be that long, Adam. A lot of work is waiting for me, and the fact that you don't show up until half an hour later than announced doesn't make it any better."
"Sit down, Hank," Adam said calmly. "It's important."
His brother looked at him with narrowed eyes. "There's a lot of paperwork in my office, I have to answer calls, there's a meeting this evening, and there are plenty of other important things I have to do."
"The matter should take precedence," Adam replied. Should ... but would it? He just couldn't evaluate the situation. As he sat down at the table, he was careful not to look at either Newman or Percy, though he was watching the boy out of the corner of his eye.
The older detective did the same thing unobtrusively.
Adam took a deep breath. "This is Trent Newman." He introduced the man to his brother.
"June Newman's grandson," Hank said, nodding. "I heard what happened to June's old house. I am really sorry about it. If I can do anything for you -"
"That's why we're here," Adam said and looked at Percy. The boy was staring into nothing. Beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, his shoulders stiffened in horror. He looked like he was about to break. "Percy," Adam spoke to him in a calm voice. His nephew stared at the table and clenched his teeth so that the muscles in his jaw twitched. "Look at me, kid," Adam demanded. He still remembered Percy as a baby, a screaming, helpless bundle. He still remembered him holding him in his arms and watching him take his first steps ... how he had held him after falling to the ground and crying. He remembered how the boy had sobbed when his mother Sherly had died ... and how Adam had taken him in his arms. "Percy."
Slowly the teenager lifted his head.
"What the hell is going on, Adam?" Hank interfered harshly.
At the sound of his father's voice, Percy winced, withdrawing again from one second to the other.
Adam felt the boy clamping up, his face hard, just like his eyes.
Sighing, Adam opened his briefcase and took out the golden cross.
That was enough to bring Percy's thin facade of bravery down. His expression reflected fear, fear, realization ... and suddenly relief.
"I think we should talk, kid," Adam stated.
Hank stared at the pendant and looked first to Percy, then to Adam. "What the hell does that mean?" He asked coldly. For the first time since Adam arrived, Hank looked straight at his son.
Dear God, maybe it was the first time in two years. Cursing, Hank yanked the necklace from Adam's hands. After staring at it for a moment, he threw it on the table and took a step toward his son. "What the hell have you done, Percy?"
If they could have stopped Hank somehow …
Newman witnessed how the fairly promising situation turned into a total disaster within seconds. The boy had almost opened up to his uncle, Newman had seen the relief in Percy's tear-filled gaze. But then his father had to open his mouth. Still, the older man had to admit that he was impressed by how the boy faced the situation.
"It was an accident. Well, mostly." The boy looked from his father to Newman, holding his gaze, and said haltingly," I'm sorry, Mr. Newman. I was just pissed. Not even because of you. It was just ... well, just because of everything. And then Uncle Adam also annoyed me because of these flowers. I know that I am to blame for it myself, but I didn't think properly, and ... and ... and ... well. I'm sorry."
Newman nodded and looked at Adam, who reached into his briefcase. But before he could say a word, Hank grabbed the boy by one of his thin arms and yanked him off the chair. Newman could see Percy's skin turn white under the tight grip. That would give bruises, that much he already knew.
"What are you sorry for? You're telling me right now what you did. I didn't raise a goddamned good-for-nothing. "
"Jesus, Hank. That's enough." Adam sounded cool and controlled, which was the opposite of his angry brother.
Hank looked at his brother. "You stay out of it. It's none of your business. " He growled.
"Oh, no? I still belong to the family. And in case your little brain has forgotten it: Arson is a felony, I'll tell you that as a cop."
Hank looked back to his son. "Arson. So, you really did it. Damn it, boy. Admit it. Damn it, be a man and admit what you did to this house. Spill it! "
Percy blinked away the tears and looked his father in the eye. "I lit it, Dad."
"You little snotty brat! Your mother would be ashamed of you, I'm just glad she doesn't have to go through this, "Hank growled in a furious voice. "If she would be here now, this would kill her."
"I am sorry!" The boy lost his composure. Again, tears threatened to fall.
Newman wouldn't soon forget that expression. "It's enough now," he said quietly, pushing himself away from the counter.
But Hank ignored him. "You are sorry." The man shook his head. "After all, what I've done to offer you a good life, are you doing that, and you think it's enough that you're sorry?"
Suddenly, Percy let out a laugh, it was an ugly, throaty sound. "A good life?" Tears streamed down his cheeks. "That's what you are calling a good life? You never look at me. You don't want to know anything of me. You probably wish I'd died instead of Mom. "
"At least, I wouldn't have to clean up the mess you left behind." Hank roared with a crimson face and raised his hand.
Newman was the first who reacted and set in motion just in time. He briefly threatened to lose his balance, but he didn't care but clenched his jaw. He grabbed the man's upraised hand, turned around and used Hank's swing to push his upper body onto the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Percy disappear through the back door, but that was his least concern right now. While Hank tried to fight him off, Newman hissed, "That, good man, was no heroic act."
"My God, let go of me," Hank growled.
"Sure, once you've calmed down, but if you think I'm going to watch you beating the boy, you're wrong, life has been bad enough for him already ... and you haven't been a big help either." Glancing at Adam, he thought that the man was staring at his brother like he was a stranger.
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Liz ...
He could see her, right there, pacing up and down on the porch. Why didn't she come down the stairs? Why didn't she come a little closer to him?
A gust of wind blew her long, shiny brown hair out of her face.
He closed his eyes and imagined how he wrapped this long strand of hair around his wrist as she knelt before him. A mixture of desire, hunger and anger bubbled in him. With the appetizing view, he had to lean on a tree trunk to control himself, not to approach closer.
This was not the right moment ...
Not this time.
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He really wishes I was dead.
Percy wiped his nose with the back of his hand and stormed past bushes and low-hanging branches. Tears were burning in his eyes, blocking his vision, but he didn't stop. After he had run eternities, his lungs had burned so that he had to stop, and now he just kept walking.
He didn't even know exactly where he was. Somewhere in the forest, near the Ohlman property, he assumed. Maybe near Chaz' and Leslie's house. Anyway, it was definitely too close to his own place. He just wanted to keep going.
With faint hope for a miracle, he put his hands in his pockets and checked the contents again. Maybe his silly seventeen dollars would multiply. He really just wanted to leave. His dad wouldn't miss him anyway.
Maybe Adam, but after all Percy had done, he certainly hated him too. A sob escaped his throat, he stumbled and sank against a tree. "That was not intentional," he whispered. "It was not intentional ..." But now it was too late to think about it. He had done it. He screwed everything up, and now not only did his dad hate him but probably also Uncle Adam. At least Adam had loved him so far, but he didn't even have that anymore.
Percy pushed away from the tree and began to move again. For now, he would just keep walking. He would think of something sooner or later. He didn't want to go home, his dad clearly didn't want him anyway.
Hours passed before he finally found himself in front of Newman's house, too far away to see properly, but close enough to see the outline of the ruin. He was responsible for this condition.
Jesus, his mother really would be ashamed. Tears came to his eyes again, but he blinked them away. Enough wailing. He had to think about what to do next. With a shudder, he thought of how his dad had looked at him. Going back home? Could he do that?
Maybe he should just go to Adam. "What would you want, Mom?" He whispered. He had really screwed thinks ... If he made a mistake, then he had to be in charge, she always had said. That's what decent people did, and that's what she would do. He swallowed hard and turned away. The only right thing was to go to Adam. His stomach cramped. He'd had enough trouble lately to know that it wouldn't be a picnic, but ... "Don't think about it," he said to himself. "Just don't think about it, do it, get it behind you, but don't think about it."
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He had forgotten how dark it could be in the forest. With his hands in his pockets, Percy stumbled forward, concentrating on the dim glow in front of him. He didn't know exactly whose house it was, but basically, he did not care.
It was not his house, and that was the main thing. Whoever lived there he'd ask to use the phone and then call his uncle. He shuddered as he thought of what awaited him hit his mind, but he had to do it. At least, he wasn't ...
Someone stepped out from behind a tree.
Percy's mind stopped.
Given the dusk, his headache, and how heavy his heart was, he almost thought the whole thing could be a nightmare. The man was wrapped in camouflage clothes from head to toe. He had even smeared his face, and his eyes were behind some sort of goggles that made him look more than strange. Percy could have handled that. But the man held a gun in his hand. He cocked his head and studied Percy as if he were a kind of lab rat. Staring at him ... as if he had already stopped existing for this wacko.
Percy heard his own breath, felt the cold sweat trickle down his spine and the blood drumming in his ears. Panic seized him, and suddenly all his anger at his father disappeared in smoke, he just wanted to go home to dad. Very fast.
He swallowed dryly, frozen in fear, but he knew he needed to move.
With a serenity that seemed almost inhuman, the man raised his head ... and slowly also the gun.
Percy jumped behind one of the trees and started to run. It was as if the branches were reaching for him. Roots seemed to grow out of the earth and wind around its feet. He stumbled, fell, got up again and kept going.
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Stupid little jerk ...
Annoyed, he withdrew into the forest again. He had planned something exciting that night, but now he had to think it over. He still wanted to watch her. He wanted to take a closer look ... Maybe he even let her know that he was here. He probably would have handled the boy somehow, but that was not intended.
He had to stick to his plan because as soon as one deviated from it, things got out of hand. After a last look back to the house, he made his way through the forest. It was not a problem to wait. After all, he was a patient man.
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"Did you try to call her?"
Jane was chewing on her thumbnail and wondered if she should answer her. Then she looked with a sigh at her wife. "No, I don't think that she wants to talk to me again for today."
"Well, you fought from the beginning. Without talking about it, you can't get it out of the way," Maura said quietly, sitting down next to the brunette on the couch and wrapped Jane's arm around her shoulders.
Jane tugged the smaller woman closer. "I know. But I -" Jane got up from the couch with a sigh and walked around in the room, sipping her beer. "She isn't really talking to me. She only told me what she'd remembered and didn't even try why she disappeared. Jeez, even Puck now punishes me with disrespect."
Maura laughed and looked at the dog who was sleeping in his bed. Liz brought the dog home shortly before she left five years ago, back then the shorthaired Belgian shepherd was still a puppy, and he loved the younger Rizzoli woman. "I know, he doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore either."
"That's probably my fault, the dog always notices when she's angry, and then gets upset as well, he'll only calm down when she does," Jane spoke from experience, she spoke of the past without noticing. "Maura, I miss her."
Jane looked really miserable when Maura looked into her brown eyes. "I know, that's why you have to make a decision, you can't assume that it will just be okay if you don't talk about it."
Jane looked down. Lost in thought, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Maybe ... maybe Adam can bring her to dinner tomorrow, so I could talk to her?"
"You'll think of something." Maura got up and kissed her lips. "But now go back to work before you have a clarifying conversation."
The Italian growled low and furrowed her brows. "Slave driver."
Maura smiled broadly. "I love you, too."
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"And how is Liz coping with that," Leslie asked, taking a fork full of pasta in her mouth.
"I don't know. Jesus, it seems she can handle it better than I do, but somehow I'm expecting all the time that she -"
"Breaks down?"
"Yes." Chaz hated himself for saying that, and even thinking it.
"I think you underestimate her." Leslie sighed, put the fork aside and raised his eyebrows. "She ... Well, she looks quite fragile and she went through hell, but sometimes people realize in just such moments what they are really made of. I have the impression Liz is getting to the point that it's enough for her. I think she has had enough already."
That's what Chaz wanted to believe, but everything she had been through, he wondered why she hadn't reached that point much sooner. If anyone could get her to that point, then William Hanley, her ex-boyfriend and cop killer, who was serving his life sentence in a super-max. But that had not happened. Instead, this son of a bitch almost destroyed her for years. "I don't know, Leslie. Yes, she went through hell, you should think she should have reached such a point a long time ago."
She shrugged. "Maybe he, I suppose there was a man, pressed the wrong buttons. This time she is not the only one who got hurt. You got hurt as well. "She turned her mouth to a grim smile and shook her head." You have no idea what she was like when you were in a coma, Chaz. Liz looked like a different person."
"Damn." He snorted. "Since we were released from the hospital, it is like she's a different person, it's almost like ... Well, in the past she was always the quiet but also rather belligerent, you know that. Those who didn't know Liz would never have thought that of her, but she has always held her point. And then ... Well, I can't say that now, after all, that's her business. Anyway, in the last five years, I had the feeling that this part of her had died. For a few days, it seems like it's back, but I'm not sure. I don't want to believe she's okay and miss something important because I'm not looking closely at it."
Leslie laughed briefly. Then she stopped, took a sip of her red wine and licked her lips. "Chaz, honey ... don't get me wrong, but I doubt you could miss something important," she said softly. "You don't even miss the tiniest details, if there's something wrong with Liz then you'll notice, but seriously, you have to step back a little ... and trust her, let her get back on her feet, and if her life was such a hell and she is now trying to stand on her own again, then she has to go through that ... alone. "
Chaz sighed, perhaps his wife was right. But when the porch door creaked, he involuntarily got up. Behind him, Leslie chuckled. "That's exactly what I mean, Chaz."
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She could hear Chaz talking to Leslie. As she slipped into the kitchen, Leslie laughed. Liz pushed out of the back door and winced as it creaked the moment she closed it behind her. Oh, man, hopefully, Chaz hadn't heard that ... But he didn't turn up at immediately. He was chatting with his wife, probably also about her. Adam had shown up shortly before dinner and talked to either of them. Neither Leslie nor Chaz told her why Adam came by without wanting her to see.
They kept their voices low, whispering and mumbling while Liz was about to scream.
She was so nervous that she felt a tingle on her skin, but she didn't want to run again.
She had enough of running away from every problem. The problem always followed her, she couldn't leave it behind. She had enough of the way Chaz looked at her, as if she was about to break down any moment, even though his worries had been justified. A hot feeling spread in her stomach as she buried her face in her hands. Just because she had lost her nerve before it didn't necessarily mean it would happen again. He didn't have to be around her 24/7 and take care of her as if she would be made of porcelain, so fragile. She heard the door open behind her and glanced over her shoulder. "Damn it, Chaz, I'm just sitting on the porch, I'm fine, and I want to be alone."
"I just wanted to ask if you might want to have a jacket. Or coffee ..."
Liz suppressed a moan, got up and turned to face him. "That's not true. You want to control me, make sure I don't freak out or panic, get a nervous breakdown, grab my belongings or do whatever you're worried about, I'm fine, Chaz, and I have to be alone." When he pressed his lips together, she almost has taken back everything, at least she knew that he was just so worried because she was important to him ...
"Fuck, Liz, what am I supposed to do? Do dances of joy?" He growled. He took carefully her hands in his own, so he wouldn't touch her wounds, and held them into the light. "Someone did this to you and tried to kill you. And I shouldn't be worried about that? "
With narrowed eyes, she pressed a finger right on the swelling under his left eye.
He immediately winced and let go of her hands. "What the fuck, Liz!"
"You're not in the pink either, my friend. You were beaten black and blue by the same person who did this to me, if you really want to worry about me, fine, I'm also worried about you, but I don't bow and scrape around you."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not the same."
"Of course, it isn't," she whispered. She looked at her wrists again and sighted. "It's not the same because I am me … Me, the one who always is afraid and is too weak to defend herself. But, God, how is it going to get any better if you try to be by my side all the time?"
"Liz, I don't try -" Chaz sighed and became quiet. He ran a hand through his hair "I'm just - Damn, I don't know how to handle the situation. I wanted you to be here, so you could feel safe and to start to process everything. And now look at what happened to you."
"This is not your fault." Liz looked away. "None of us could foresee this, I mean how could we? But, Chaz, for heaven's sake, you have to stop to mother me. Because of that I feel boxed in. I'm feeling fine, really. And I need some freedom, otherwise, I'll go nuts." She hated that sad, pathetic look in his eyes that she couldn't take away ... or didn't want to. Instead, she turned her back to him and refused to look at him. At some point, she heard him going back into the house, but still didn't turn around. Thoughtfully, she stared up at the dark sky. All she wanted to do was to sit on the porch. She could do that, though. She looked back at her wrists and sighed heavily.
Tomorrow she had to go to the BPD and file a complaint. Although it probably was a waste of time, nobody believed her anyway. Either people thought she was crazy and suicidal, or they thought she was crazy and wanted to hurt her best friend.
After all, she would meet with Trent Newman. An old colleague who was always unbiased.
Something rustled behind the trees. A branch cracked. Liz jerked her head up, holding her breath. She almost ran back into the house, okay, maybe she didn't realize that she couldn't handle sitting outside alone. Then a boy staggered out of the woods. A boy ... He cried and was about her size. Still, he was just a kid whose face looked oddly familiar to her.
Instead of retreating into the house, she jumped down the two steps of the porch and ran across the lawn toward him. "Hey, are you alright?"
The door opened behind her, but Liz barely noticed that. She met the boy's gaze. He is terrified.
He grabbed her by the upper arm. His Adam's apple hopped up and down as if he could barely speak without sobbing.
"There ... there was somebody in the forest," he blurted out, his voice cracking, as it so often happens with pubescent boys. In his panic, he unconsciously tightened his grip, as if to make sure she was really standing in front of her.
His big blue eyes were the most noticeable feature in the slender face, which seemed incredibly familiar to her. "Someone's walking around ... in the woods," he whispered. He glanced fearfully over his shoulder before looking at her again. Suddenly, the panic left his eyes and he released her arm to reach for her hand. This touch seemed incredibly familiar to her, too. "He had a gun and he was back there. We are not safe here. We should go inside and call the police or something like that. "
When the boy dragged her to the house, Liz noticed Chaz, who was standing on the porch with his usual frown.
"Percy, Jesus, your uncle is looking for you everywhere. He's worried sick." He scolded.
"Chaz." Liz stopped him and frowned. Not just because of the whole situation but also because now she knew why the boy looked so familiar to her. He was her very own nephew. The last time I've seen him … Okay, that's five years ago. But I should have noticed him anyway.
However, Chaz paid no attention to her, instead of pointing to the house behind him. "Get in, Percy, go ahead and call Adam."
Liz stepped protectively in front of Percy, she carefully loosened his grip, he was as thin as a rake but damn strong. "Shit, Chaz, come off it, the boy is in a complete tizzy. He says he saw someone in the forest."
Chaz narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Percy. "Is that true?"
The teenager ran the back of his hand over his mouth. "He …a gun. He had a gun."
"A gun?" Leslie stood in the door to the porch. "Is that correct?"
Chaz' face turned dark and he nodded in the direction of his house. "Get inside the house, Percy. Call Adam. He's looking everywhere for you, kid. After you've done that, you tell me everything about the person you have seen."
As the teenager ran into the house, Liz stood there taken aback. "Percy."
Chaz nodded slowly. "It has been five years, Liz. Come on, we should get inside."
When the door closed behind them, she realized that it was only a matter of minutes before Adam appeared here. Liz had to swallow. Her heart began to throb. For a moment, she wondered if she should lock herself in her room and come out when the whole thing was over. Then she closed her eyes and reasoned herself. No. You stop running away, have you already forgotten that?
However, a part of her still wanted to hide in her room. She had begun to face her past, and she didn't want to run away from the things that scared her anymore either. But Adam didn't just scare her.
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As they turned into the long driveway that led to Chaz' house, Hank opened his eyes. "Chaz said he was fine, right?"
"Yeah, he is fine. He seems to be pretty shaken, though. Something in the woods scared him to death."
Hank nodded. There was a sad, bashful expression on his face, and he sighed. "You know I'd rather kick my ass for the things I said earlier, right? I love my son, Adam, you know that. But the last two years ... they've been hell."
"Do you think they weren't for him, too? He's still a child and has lost his mother, he probably doesn't think that he still has a dad. You don't pay any attention to him, Hank. Shit, even a blind man sees it. He probably thinks that his father wouldn't love him anymore, but wished he was dead. " Adam said bitterly. He suffered from his brother, but more so with Percy. He closed his eyes for a moment before looking in the rearview mirror. His own son was asleep in the booster seat, dead to the world.
He was so angry at Hank that he wanted to grab that idiot by the shoulders and shake him, shake him or hit him. As long as the man finally woke up and understood what he did to his son. Percy was so confused, unhappy, and scared. Adam never thought he would ever be ashamed of his brother ... but right now? He was. Sure, people who mourn were often not completely in control of themselves, but he just couldn't believe what Hank had come up with, what he might have done if Newman hadn't been so serene at the moment. "Percy deserves better, Hank," he added with a shake of his head. "So much better."
"I know, I have to work hard to get those things right between us." Hank sighed. "Of course, it's all my fault, but you also know that Percy is having problems, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had come up with this story about a man with a gun just to distract himself from the trouble he faces."
The thought had come to Adam too. But in his opinion, Percy has already been charged with enough crap. He would not rashly condemn his nephew for that. Not yet. "He deserves better for the last two years," Adam repeated softly. "And he deserves that we at least listen to him without having judged him already, maybe you can't, but I can, and I will."
Headlights illuminated in the rearview mirror. As Adam parked in front of Chaz's house, he recognized Frankie's car in the darkness. He grimaced and watched the older man get out.
"I'm wondering why you did not tell me about Newman's house and Percy," Frankie said.
"I have not planned that either." Adam nodded to the house. "He's in there."
Frankie eyed Hank for a brief moment. He didn't like the man and how he treated his own son. And he liked him even less after what Newman had told him what had happened in his kitchen. "Hank."
Hank cocked his head. "Frankie, I ... well, as you hopefully understand, that was a pretty tough day, I just couldn't think quite straight."
"I like to think so, but your son doesn't seem to be thinking clearly for a while, so maybe you concern yourself about that," Frankie said bluntly, turning to the house.
Hank pressed his lips together. "I am aware of that, believe me."
Adam rubbed the back of his neck, then he opened the back door of his car and got his sleeping son out of the booster seat. This day probably wouldn't get any better. After the men reached the front door, he knocked and promptly experienced another surprise. He should have been prepared to meet her here. Actually. But when the door opened, and Liz stood before him, framed by light, with a sad, withdrawn expression in dreamy brown eyes, Adam's heart almost stopped. At the sight of her, he just couldn't keep his composure. Or rather, what her sight did to him, his mind, his body, his emotions. Crap. Oh, shit, I really don't need that right now. Lust rose in him, grabbed his throat, taking his breath away while the blood throbbed in his veins. That was the last woman in the world to desire. She only brought trouble. The woman had a lot of problems just to name one of the reasons why he didn't need this right now-
He rubbed carefully the back of his son when the boy started to stir a little. Actually, he didn't want to take Zane with him, but at this time of night, he didn't want to ask or even wake Jane and Maura.
Liz' eyes fell at the small boy and swallowed hard the moment she realized who that boy was.
Behind him, Frankie cleared his throat. Hank, who had mastered himself with difficulty, pushed Adam aside and pushed himself impatiently into the house. He passed Liz closely. Too close according to her expression. Her eyes changed, she jerked away, avoiding him, and turned away her face ... hiding her fear.
Suddenly, his burning desire changed to anger. This fear, where did it come from, what did it cause? What in the hell was she constantly afraid of? It itched his fingers to touch her face, to brush her dark hair from her forehead and promise her that she wouldn't need to be afraid anymore.
Jesus.
When she glanced at him, Adam remembered that he needed to stay away from this woman.
You are not running. You are not running, Liz told herself when the three men entered the house.
Frankie stopped beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. Only a month ago she would have flinched, but now she could give him an insecure smile as he asked her, "How are you feeling?"
"Quite alright." He looked at her with a sharp, intelligent look at her, whereupon her smile grew thin and died. "Okay, maybe not so good, but at least I'm still here."
With a nod, Frankie stroked her arm. Then, after closing the door, he laid an arm around her shoulders in a friendly, casual gesture that she couldn't avoid without feeling silly. "Who's nursing the two of you back to health, Chaz nurses you or are you nursing Chaz?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adam with the toddler in his arms, fully aware that he was watching her. Then she felt her blush, trying to concentrate on Frankie, on all sorts of things, not how nervous the other man was making her. "Um, probably both. He's tired and in pain, which is not surprising, because he doesn't want to take the medication. "
"And you?"
Frankie didn't look at her wrists, but that was not necessary. She knew what his question implied. Tension spread in her chest, and she broke away from him, suddenly unable to bear his touch even though it just had felt ... well, almost nice. Almost like a casual, friendly hug from Chaz. Now she wasn't in the mood for a casual, friendly hug anymore - she was angry. "I'm fine," she replied sharply. Then she stomped past Adam, Frankie, and the silent Hank into the kitchen, where she sat down at the table with Chaz, Leslie, and Percy. "We have visitors, Chaz," she said coolly as she caught Chaz's gaze.
Leslie quirked an eyebrow. "Aha, what has Frankie done?"
The older man entered the kitchen. "I didn't know that I have done something wrong."
"He hasn't," Liz confirmed with a calm voice. She also wouldn't approach the topic right now. Not as long as her nephew would be here. Perfect, now she concentrated on Percy.
Percy sat with his head down and shoulders hunched at the table. His body became even stiffer as Hank came into the kitchen. A heavy, uncomfortable silence fell over them like a wet, cold blanket. Adam came to the table and sat down on one of the chairs. Well, kid, "he said softly.
Percy briefly glanced up at him, then stared back at the tabletop.
It was so incredibly quiet that Liz could hear the ticking of the clock.
Finally, Hank broke the silence by approaching her. He gave her an affable, seasoned smile ... of an insurance agent. "I'm sorry if he imposed on you."
He wanted to shake her hand, but she quickly hooked her thumbs in the back pockets of her jeans, taking care not to rub her wrists along the seams on her pants. Frowning, she answered, "Percy is terrified, he isn't a burden, Hank."
Leslie smirked, and Frankie cleared his throat, Chaz rolled his eyes.
Hank tilted his head and looked at his son. "Come on, Percy. Let's go home. We still have a lot to talk about."
Liz started to say something, anything, but then she said nothing and looked over at the boy. He looked sad, scared ... and lonely. She didn't know what kind of problems he had, but she knew the feeling sad, scared and lonely. If you were cut off from your surroundings and that there was nobody who could help, who listened.
"Maybe you should listen to what happened," Chaz said behind her in a calm voice.
But the insurance agent shook his head. "Percy can tell me about it at home. In private. We have a lot to talk about. And he took enough of your time."
Liz backed away. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Chaz' expression, saw his lips pressed together. That reassured her, at least she was not the only one who didn't like the way the man dealt with his frightened child.
Of course, Chaz expressed his disapproval. "Yes, sure, your personal affairs are more important than the fact that Percy met someone near my property in the woods, and that guy had a gun that he used to point at your son, no offense, Hank, but I dare to doubt that you are setting the right priorities."
"My son -"
"Hank." Adam stood up and placed a hand on the shoulder of Percy, Zane was protesting with a whimper and Liz' eyes shot up automatically.
She stared at the man without realizing what he was saying next. Despite her determination not to look at him or think about him, she just couldn't take her eyes off him.
The two men assessed each other. But as Adam appeared to be warm, Hank looked cold.
Hank looked at Chaz, then at the boy. "All right, Percy, tell us what's going on."
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After the teenager told his story, everyone was on alert. Not because Percy had burnt down a house, but because of the hooded man who was walking around nearby and willing to shoot anyone who bothered him. After the story was over, Frankie offered Hank and Percy to drive them home.
Liz walked Adam to the door and frowned a little, she looked at the still sleeping boy and wanted to touch him, to run a hand through his hair only to make him look at her. Instead, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and sighed."
It seemed like Adam didn't want to leave either. He cleared his throat. "Thanks for taking care of Percy."
She smiled tightly and shrugged. "I almost didn't recognize him. He got so tall."
He nodded and took a deep breath. "He did."
"I didn't know that they are living in Boston now. Why didn't Sherly came to pick Percy up?"
He was silent for a moment, looking down at his still-sleeping son. Then he clenched his teeth. "Sherly died two years ago, that's why Hank and Percy moved to Boston."
Liz' eyes went wide, and she blushed. She blushed because she seemed to have torn an old wound open, but at the same time, she understood why the teenager looked so lost. "I didn't -"
"How could you," Adam asked when she trailed off and shrugged lightly. "Since Percy lost you and his mother … he became a troublemaker."
"I had to leave, Adam," she whispered on the edge of tears.
"Why?" He whispered back and brushed the skin of her arm with his fingertips. He wasn't sure what made him touch her, but he couldn't suppress the need to do so any longer.
She closed her eyes and wanted to step away from him. Instead, she swallowed hard and opened her mouth to answer his question. She wanted to get over with it, she wanted a lot of things. She wanted the time back that has been stolen from her five years ago, she wanted to be able watching her son growing up, she wanted to be a part of Zane's life, she wanted to be a part of Adam's life. Now, she wanted to stand on her toes and kiss the man in front of her. She wanted to …
"Mommy," a tiny voice asked sleepily.
The question pulled her out of the train of thoughts, she looked down at the boy, who was now looking at her with bleary eyes, and her heart dropped. She couldn't think, she couldn't move, she couldn't speak right now.
Zane tried to wriggle out of his father's arms and looked at a frown at him because Adam didn't let go of him and Liz started to chew on the inside of her cheek.
Now, she understood that everything that her mothers had told her had been true, that they really told Zane about her, and that the kid must think that she was a part of his life the whole time, but she wasn't. She missed important stages. That's why she didn't even try to take Zane from Adam's arms.
Zane huffed and still try to wriggle out of Adam's arms. "Why?" The child grunted annoyed.
Liz' eyebrows shot up high and looked at the man in front of her.
Adam rolled his eyes in amusement. He knew well why the boy recognized his mother immediately and tried to reach her. Every single night after Liz had left them, he told Zane about all the adventures he and Liz had experienced before Zane was born, about their life and work in a children's version. And that she'd be always a part of Zane, no matter where she'd be.
He sighed and released his son because he wouldn't stop anyway.
"Oh." Liz gasped the second Zane climbed into her arms and glanced at him like she didn't know what to do, at the same time something stirred in her chest. "Okay."
Zane scrutinized her with intense brown eyes like he was trying to figure out that he didn't mistake this woman for his mother, then he buried his face in her neck, mumbling. "Hi, Mommy." He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, and Liz exhaled shakily and held the boy close to her with threatening tears in her eyes. She was longing for a moment like this for so many years and had imagined all kind of horror scenarios of the day she might come back into Zane's life, but a scenario like did, she didn't think of. She closed her eyes and the tears ran down her cheeks. "Hi," she whispered, and a smile was around her lips. "Hi, baby."