“Stabbed?”
Liam wiped Zac’s mouth with something wet that smelled of lemon. “I told you, Jamie got in some trouble and you got caught up in it. Someone looking for him found you, stabbed you in the arm, and cut your artery. You lost a lot of blood. You’ve had surgery to repair it, but you’re still in a little bit of shock. Put that with the anaesthetic and it’s no wonder you feel fucked.”
Fucked wasn’t the word. Zac stared at his bandaged arm. He couldn’t picture the event . . . the knife, the blood, but somehow the sound of the blade piercing his skin was deafening. His stomach rolled again. “Where’s Jamie?”
“Um . . .” Liam let his hands fall from Zac and moved to the end of the bed, grabbing a roll of blue paper and using it to blot up the mess Zac had made on the floor. “I kind of sent him away.”
“What?” Zac struggled to sit up. “You said he was safe, not back out there for—”
Liam held up his hands. “He is safe, I promise. My brother-in-law has him. He got him a passport and an ESTA, and took him to California.”
Zac stilled in his feeble attempts to swing his legs out of bed. “California? As in . . . America?”
Liam nodded. Zac opened his mouth. Shut it. “I think I’m missing something. Did you seriously just tell me Jamie’s gone to California with your brother-in-law?”
“Er . . . yeah. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I’m hoping you’re not going to be too mad about it.”
“What’s in California?”
“Rehab.”
“Rehab?”
Liam nodded. “He didn’t believe he could do it alone, so I offered him some help. Sounds like it wouldn’t hurt for him to disappear for a while either.”
“Rehab.” Zac repeated like Liam hadn’t spoken. “I didn’t think he was ready.”
“Perhaps he’s not. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying, though.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything, then. We can talk more later.”
“You’re going to stay? Even though you know I’m a junkie as well as a hooker?”
Liam sighed. “No, I’m staying because I want to. I don’t care about any of that stuff, Zac, and I’m sorry I ever made you feel like crap because of it. I should’ve given you a chance to tell me that syringe was Jamie’s. Perhaps if I had, we could’ve helped him sooner and none of this would’ve happened.”
The rational part of Zac’s brain could hardly believe Liam knew so much about him now, but the other less logical part didn’t care. Liam knew he was a junkie and had accepted him as a whore long ago. With Jamie safely on his way to who knew where on the other side of the world, nothing else seemed to matter, save the desire to learn more about the man who’d made it happen. “Will you tell me how your husband died?”
“Why do you want to know that?”
“Because you’re still here.”
Liam smiled softly, seeming to understand Zac’s cryptic answer, which was lucky, because Zac barely understood it himself. Liam pulled a chair close to the bed, absently taking Zac’s good hand. “There’s not much to it, really. He was cycling home from work one day, and he didn’t make it. Farm truck backed out of a lane. He never stood a chance.”
“Where did it happen? In Newquay?”
“Yes. If Holkham is my spiritual home, Newquay was Cory’s. Only reason I didn’t bury him there was because he’d once specifically told me not to. Said he wanted to be by the North Sea because it had the best fish.” Liam shook his head slightly, his tight expression growing fond before it tensed again. “You want me to tell you how he died, but I reckon it would make more sense if I told you how he lived.”
“I’m listening,” Zac said softly.
“I told you we met in India, right?”
Zac nodded.
“We followed each other around the world for a while after that, California, Bali, Mexico. I thought we were travelling for fun. I didn’t realise Cory was searching for his next big idea until he dreamed up Sea Rave. He was the brains behind it, you know. I just drew a couple of T-shirts.”
“I doubt that’s true.” Zac reluctantly relinquished Liam’s hand as Liam got up from his chair and drifted to the window, staring out at whatever lay beyond. “You’re the brains behind it now.”
