Liam pulled open the door, eyebrows drawn together.
A man stood on the other side.
Early thirties, maybe.
Despite the tired look in his eyes and the faint lines starting to show around them, he had a strong jawline and sharp features that would've made him stand out in a crowd.
A faded flannel shirt hung loose over a stained undershirt, and his jeans were worn at the knees. The smell of stale cigarette smoke hit Liam immediately.
'Who the hell is this?'
"Hello," Liam said, forcing his voice to sound normal.
"Hello, son. How are you doing?" The man's voice came out rough, but there was warmth underneath it.
"I'm good. Can I help you with something?"
"I'm Mr. Trent. I live next door to your mom." He gestured vaguely toward the apartment to the left.
"I saw you go in earlier and figured I'd wait for you to come back out so I could ask about her, but..." He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.
"You were in there a while, so I just decided to knock."
'I don't even know this guy. Yeah, i get he's worried, but why does he care so much?'
Liam shifted his weight, not saying anything.
The silence stretched for a second too long. Mr. Trent's expression shifted, like he knew exactly what Liam was thinking.
"Look, I know what you're seeing right now," Mr. Trent said, his voice quieter.
"Some guy who clearly doesn't have his shit together showing up at your door asking questions." He let out a short, humorless laugh.
"And you're not wrong. But your mom? She never looked at me like that. She was nice to me when nobody else in this building even bothered. Didn't cross the street when she saw me coming. Didn't pretend I wasn't there."
He paused, his jaw working like he was trying to find the right words.
"She's the whole reason I'm even trying to fix my life right now. So when I saw that ambulance..." His voice cracked slightly. "I just need to know if she's okay."
Liam felt something in his chest loosen. The guy meant it. He could hear it.
"She's at the hospital," Liam said. "Had to get surgery, but..."
"Wait, hold on." Mr. Trent cut him off, his eyes going wide.
"I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know it..." He stopped himself, then looked directly at Liam. "Is she okay? was the surgery a success?"
'I was getting to that.'
Liam kept his face neutral. "Yeah. She's fine. Surgery went well."
Mr. Trent's shoulders dropped. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes for a second, like he'd been holding that tension in his whole body. When he opened them again, they were glassy.
"Thank God," he muttered. "Thank God."
He stood there for a moment, just breathing. Then he looked back at Liam and gave him a tired smile.
"It's nice to finally meet you, by the way. Your mom talks about you all the time. How proud she is, how hard you've been working." He shook his head.
"I just wish this wasn't how we had to meet, you know?"
Liam let out a short laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Yeah"
'Why the hell is my mom talking about me to this guy?', The thought sat heavy in his head.
He barely knew this man existed, and apparently his mom had been telling him all about Liam's life.
"My daughters are actually around your age," Mr. Trent continued, his tone shifting slightly, like he was trying to keep the conversation going. "Both of them." He let out a small laugh.
"They're friendly girls, but... you know, a bit scary sometimes. You know how girls can be."
Mr. Trent opened his mouth to continue, but stopped. His attention shifted past Liam's shoulder.
"Dad."
He turned. Liam followed his gaze.
A girl stood a few feet behind Mr. Trent
Early twenties.
Dark hair fell past her shoulders, sleek and straight except for a single blue streak running through the left side.
She had sharp features and high cheekbones. Her light brown eyes caught the hallway light and held it in a way that made Liam stare longer than he meant to.
The black crop top clung to her chest and showed her flat stomach. Her skin looked smooth. Her jeans hugged her hips and thighs tight enough to make his pulse jump. He dragged his eyes back up before she caught him.
Her arms were crossed under her breasts, lifting them a little. Her expression stayed flat, which somehow made the whole thing hit harder.
Mr. Trent's face lit up. "Oh, perfect timing! Sweetie, this is Liam. Mrs. Carter's son. You know, the one I told you about."
He gestured between them like he was introducing two people at a dinner party.
The girl's eyes shifted to Liam. She looked at him for a long second. Her face didn't change. No smile, no nod, nothing.
She just stared.
Then she looked back at her father.
"Dad. Let's go."
Mr. Trent's smile faltered. "I was just introducing you..."
"Now."
Her tone didn't rise. She didn't yell. But the word landed like a door slamming shut.
Liam kept his smile in place, nodding slightly like this was all normal.
'Bitch.'
Mr. Trent let out an awkward laugh, glancing between them.
"She's, uh... she's just tired. Long day at school, you know how it is."
He turned back to Liam, his voice dropping. "Anyway, I should get going. But it was really good to meet you, Liam. And I'm glad your mom's okay. Really glad."
"Yeah. Thanks for checking in."
Mr. Trent nodded one last time, then turned to follow his daughter. She was already heading back toward their house, not looking back.
Liam stood there for a second, watching them go. Mr. Trent's shoulders were hunched slightly as he walked, and the girl never slowed down.
He closed the door and walked back inside.
Clara stood near the couch, arms wrapped around herself. Her face was still flushed, and she wouldn't look directly at him. Her fingers kept tugging at the hem of her sweater.
"Who... who was that?" she asked quietly, her eyes fixed on the coffee table.
"The neighbor. Mr. Trent." Liam walked past her toward his mom's room. "He was checking on my mom."
"Oh." Clara nodded, then immediately looked down again. "That's... that's nice of him."
The silence stretched between them. Clara shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then bent down to pick up her phone from the table. She checked the screen.
The screen lit up in her hand. A message notification from Kyle sat at the top.
Her face went started squeezing with irritation that she didn't bother opening it and just swiped to check the time instead.
"We should probably..." She trailed off, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Your mom. The hospital. They said to bring the documents, right?"
"Yeah." Liam emerged from his mom's bedroom with the folder. "Got everything."
Clara nodded quickly, maybe too quickly. "Good. That's good."
She moved toward the door but stopped halfway, like she wasn't sure if she should wait for him or keep going. Her hands twisted together in front of her.
"You ready?"
Liam grabbed her keys from the counter before tossing it to Clara
"Yeah." Clara's voice came out small as she clumsy try to catch her key.
They walked to the door together.
Liam locked it behind them, and they headed down the cracked driveway toward her car parked on the street.
Clara walked slightly behind him, her footsteps quiet. She kept glancing at him, then away, then back again. Her fingers drummed against her thigh.
"Liam, I—" she started, then stopped.
"What?"
"Nothing. It's nothing." She shook her head and quickened her pace to match his.
They were halfway down the driveway when the sound of an engine cut through the quiet street.
A Black Range Rover rolled up and stopped right in front of Clara's car, blocking it in. The engine idled rough and loud.
Clara stopped walking. Her keys were still in her pocket.
The driver's seat door swung open.
A guy stepped out. Mid-twenties, tall and broad-shouldered, with buzzed hair and a sharp jawline. He wore an expensive-looking jacket and dark jeans. His expression was cold.
Two more guys climbed out from the passenger side. One was stocky with a sleeve of tattoos running down his left arm. The other was leaner, with a chain hanging from his belt loop.
The guy eyes locked onto Clara immediately.
Clara's face went pale. "Kyle..." Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"
Kyle took a step forward, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets.
A slow smile spread across his face.
Liam's hand tightened around the folder.