"I don't think that's a good idea."
"You can't hide from me forever, Charlotte. We need to talk." Fingers moved from my back to the edge of my jaw, and he lifted it. Trembling, I cast my eyes down. I couldn't look at him.
"I'm not going to hurt you. You know that, right?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said, mumbling.
"Charlotte..."
He sounded bruised and a flicker of me felt guilty, but I didn't trust him. He had lied to everyone. "I have classes. Please let me go."
Liam dropped his hold on me, his body still looming over mine. "It's not what you think," he whispered. "Can I at least explain?"
His hand moved to the locker next to mine, and I froze, trying to keep my breathing normal. I did want answers. I needed them. The hallway spun and I blinked my eyes. "I can't leave school," I said.
"Not a problem." He grabbed my hand and before I could protest, began leading me down the hallway.
"Wait, where're we going?" Glancing back down the hall, I contemplated screaming, but he rounded the corner, and pulled me into a large open closet. He shut the door, and turned me around. "The janitor's closet?" I asked.
He shrugged. "It's private and you can return to classes after we're done."
I swallowed and looked around. Finding a light switch, I flicked it on. It buzzed sputtering, and then softly illuminated the tiny area. Boxes and cleaning supplies left little room to move. Liam's proximity and stature, blocking the only way out, made my anxiety soar. "I don't know about this."
"You don't know about what?" he asked, leaning against the closed door.
The dim lighting cast eerie shadows, accentuating his deep-set features, giving him an intense air. I struggled to focus and relax, knowing full well he could hear my pulse and smell the fear rising off me.
"I know why you haven't been returning my calls, Charlotte," Liam said, his voice low. I arched my back against the large storage box behind me, trying to manage some distance, my palms sweaty. "I know what you must be thinking. I'm sure this is all very confusing."
"Confusing?" I said with a tight voice. "Confusing, is an understatement." A surprising rush of adrenaline flushed through me. "Who are you?"
I could see Liam's face tighten even with the poor lightening, his eyes vacant, and hard. "I'm a wolf. I told you."
"That's not what I mean. Who are you?"
"I'm Liam."
"No you're not," I said. Liam had never looked so intimidating. His irises flooded gold as they narrowed in on me. I could barely breathe. "Did you kill him?" I asked. The threat of tears stung. "Did you kill that boy and take his name?"
I didn't think it possible, but he tilted his head to the side, and took a step closer to me. His human features seemed more wolf-like then ever. His hand began to reach for me, and I pressed the side of my face to the storage box.
"Charlotte," Liam said, brushing his knuckles down the side of my cheek. Tears fell. "You know I would never do such a thing. Come on. You know me."
"Obviously, I don't."
He dropped his hand and took a step back, casting his gaze down.
"Everything about you is a lie. How am I supposed to trust you? Why should I believe you didn't kill that guy? You're a werewolf!"
Liam flicked his gaze up, gold, and clasped his hand over my mouth. I squeaked a scream under his clasp. "Shh," he said. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, focusing on something outside the closet. Footsteps moved on the other side, and I froze. I could feel Liam's skin begin to quiver and stretch.
A few muffled voices spoke, and then the footsteps moved on. Both of us stood silent. Liam released me and stepped back.
"You can't tell anyone, Charlotte. Do you know what people would do? Everyone thinks I'm Liam. They'd kill me. I'm a monster, remember?"
"So you're really not Liam?"
"No."
I nodded and then scrunched my face up as I felt a tear slip. It hurt.
"Oh, Charlotte, please don't cry. I love you."
He reached out for me again, but I stumbled backwards, knocking over a storage box. "Please don't," I said.
He looked as if I stabbed him.
"I'd never hurt you, Charlotte. You don't know what you mean to me."
I wanted to believe it so much it ached. "I don't even know who you are."
"Aiden."
"What?" I asked.
He fell, defeated, back against the closed door. "My name," he said, rubbing his forehead. "My name is Aiden. Nobody knows that, not even my pack."
"Did you kill him?"
"No," he said.
"Then why'd you take his name? I don't understand."
Liam's face twisted into a mass of stress lines, making him appear a lot older than his 'claimed' age. "Because I know who did do it," he said with a tight groan.
He did know the killer. My first assumption at the library had been right. My mind spun with 'what's' and 'why's'. I couldn't think.
"I looked the same age as the boy. We both had ashy blond hair and green eyes. The way he was torn up, I could easily pull off any facial differences as the result of healing. Forensics was different back then. If I was the only living witness, I could manipulate the case away from...."
My jaw dropped.
"You were protecting the killer!"
"Shh. Please, Charlotte," he whispered. He glanced over his shoulder at the door and then ran both of his hands through his hair, turning back to me. "You don't understand. It's not what you think."
"Not what I think?" I asked. "Were you or were you not protecting the killer?"
Liam winced, and then groaned. "In a way, yes, I was."
I couldn't believe this. "This isn't helping me trust you, Liam. Aiden. Whoever you are."
"Just call me Liam, everyone else does."
I wanted to scream.
"Liam," I said through my teeth, trying to stay calm. "Please tell me. Why would you protect a brutal killer? I saw the pictures of the victims. They were horrible. How could you? You...you're almost just as bad as him. You're an accomplice!" I couldn't look at him.
"Charlotte, please..."
He moved towards me again and when he let his fingers fall on the back of my shoulder, I felt my own skin ripple.
Nerves, it had to be nerves.
Liam inhaled slowly and when I dared look up at him, I saw the points of his canine teeth, slipping past his lips. His chest rumbled, and I thought I might pass out.
"I told you," he said in a low, hoarse voice. "It's not what you think. I didn't have a choice. More people would have gotten hurt. He'd have gone after the cops, their families. They would have kept hunting him, and they wouldn't have been able to stop him. This way, I was able to get the humans off the case, deal with him myself, and send him away."
I tried to take it all in. It made sense, but I couldn't think. That voice and the way he looked at me; I didn't know if he wanted to kiss me or eat me. A low rumble reverberated from his chest and he pressed his nose into my hair. A whimper escaped my lips. "Liam," I said. "What are you doing?"
"Mmm," he said, his voice rumbling. "I'm sorry. You just smell so good. I miss you."
I recoiled as much as I could, being trapped between him and the box. "Are you going to eat me?" I asked.
The corner of Liam's mouth turned up, his teeth longer than before. I shuttered.
"No," Liam said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You're so cute, Charlotte. I'd never hurt you." His hand cupped my chin. "You smell like a female wolf. That's what's been throwing me since I first met you. It drives me crazy."
"What?"
I couldn't believe what he just said. My mind spun to all the times Liam had done his little ritual of inhaling the air around me, Byron's comment in the cafeteria too. But it couldn't be true. Despite the evidence in that album, there was no way I was a werewolf. I couldn't be.
"I think you do know what," Liam said. "You saw the album. Between us..." He leaned closer. "I know you've felt it." His fingers tangled in my hair. "The wolf is in you somewhere. I've seen pieces of her from time to time. She's beautiful."