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“Liam . . .” I struggle to breathe his name, my voice a whisper of disbelief. My body sways as if the ground beneath me has shifted, and I’m standing on Aladin’s carpet that’s floating in the air, ready to plunge into a dark vortex.
"Surprise," he says simply, a soft grin on his lips.
Shock ricochets through me, followed swiftly by a surge of fear, and then vomit. "What are you doing here? It's not safe!" I say as my trembling hands pull him in, and I quickly lock the door behind him.
“Baby . . .” I mouth in a voice that sounds like it has traveled through miles of sandpaper.
“Why?” I ask, now crying uncontrollably, unfazed by the nasty pool of smelly vomit that is most certainly stinking up the dorm room.
Liam’s style of travel can only be procured through credit cards, for I don’t think Liam knows what a debit card is. His kind of balance cannot be insured by the FDIC. Credit cards can be traced. If Christopher Dexter has a dedicated bounty hunter looking for his son, that man knows exactly where Liam is right now, if he is worth his weight in gold.
I am terrified, and I can’t stop crying. “I can’t keep you safe here, Liam. Your face is everywhere.”
"Tony," he steps over the vomit, his eyes earnest. "If you are truly afraid for my life, then come back to Zurich with me. I'm not going back till you say yes. I need to be near you, and I don’t care where . . . you decide where—here in Texas or back in Zurich."
His presence—right here, in my dorm room; right here in my arms, is so unexpected and soul-soothing, so desperately needed. He wraps his arms around me like a blanket, trying to quiet the sobs with his sheer love, gently and firmly coaxing the fears away with nothing but passion.
Every worry about his safety, about the distance between us, crashes into simple adoration; an undeniable need to be close to him. My heart throbs with an overwhelming mix of love, fear, and gratitude, a torrent of emotions cascading through every fiber of my being.
“Oh, Liam,” I sigh. “You are not safe here. They might already be on their way. We must get you out of here soon. I think maybe I run to the store and buy you a dress, a wig, and some fake eyelashes—get you out of Dodge as a woman,” I say, being very serious.
He can change at the airport.
“I think you watch too much TV, babe. Only Madea can pull that off.”
Chapter forty-eight
THE ENGAGEMENT.
LIAM
I stand in Tony's dorm room, scanning the area for any sign of activity that does not belong on campus, like a Ninja turtle in all black, perched on a rooftop, with a telescopic lens trained in my direction . . . stuff for the movies, I know, but Max is dead, and that’s what makes me take these fanciful ideas seriously.
The campus is abuzz with normal college activity on a normal Saturday morning, making an unnoticed escape near impossible.
Tony runs to Costco and buys me a pair of regular Joe jeans and a simple T-shirt, along with a baseball hat and sunglasses to help me blend in. I quickly change into the inconspicuous attire, feeling a sense of relief wash over me as my identity changes from Mr. Miami Beach’s sexiest man of the year, 1998, to Mr. Incognito, hiding in plain sight, behind everyday menswear.
"Ready?" Tony asks, her eyes filled with anticipation and fear.
"Let's go," I reply, taking her hand in mine as we make our way towards the back exit of the building.
We navigate through the less frequented paths and alleyways, remaining vigilant for any prying eyes or curious onlookers. Our steps are careful and calculated, ensuring that we don't draw attention to ourselves. As we reach the airport, I can't help but feel a rush of adrenaline at the thought of our impending escape.
Once there, I book first-class tickets for our journey, hoping the added privacy will further shield us from unwanted attention. We maintain a low profile while boarding the plane, and for the duration of the flight, our conversation is hushed and discreet.
As we arrive at my Zurich house, I am reminded of the preparations I made before leaving for Texas, and my heart races thinking of the surprise waiting for Tony on the other side of the door . . . yellow roses, champagne, and an engagement ring— elements I've carefully chosen to create the perfect atmosphere for my proposal. My heart does somersaults as we step through the front door, and I guide Tony through the beautifully arranged home into the living room.
"Wow, Liam . . . this is incredible," Tony whispers, her eyes wide with wonder and appreciation. “Am I really that predictable? That’s a lot of Roses to get wrong.”
"I am a man who lives perpetually on hope, my love," I say, leading her towards the fireplace — and I hope she remembers its significance. It is the very spot where we shared our first kiss.
With a deep breath, I express my love and commitment to Tony, my voice trembling with emotion. As I drop to one knee, her eyes fill with tears, and she nods emphatically even before I ask her to marry me.
"Of course, yes!" she exclaims, and I slide the engagement ring onto her finger.
Overwhelmed with joy, I pop open the champagne and pour each of us a glass. We toast to our future together in the privacy of our Zurich escape, reveling in this intimate moment that has taken unbridled struggles and sacrifices to reach.
As we clink glasses, I decide it's time to discuss the next steps in our life together.
