Four Times Saved (Lily in Bloom #2)

Chapter 1

Eric

" G et down! Get down!"

A car backfired in the distance. My father ran and ducked for cover on the open sand and sea behind their Florida home. He waved at me, frantic, eyes bloodshot and army crawling.

"Dad, it's okay. It was just a car," I told him.

"No! They're coming for us, coming back to punish me for all the lives I've destroyed." He panted, swinging his head from left to right. I wasn't trained for this, and the nurse was inside with my mother. I was only hoping my mother hadn't heard the bang, or it would be pandemonium both inside and outside of the house.

Having a nurse was so much help; I couldn't say I knew what to do in situations like these, and if I had to be here for two retired veterans, on my own, I'd be so stressed, I'd lose my mind along with them. Make that two veterans who were my parents. The emotional investment was on another level. I commended anyone who had taken on that task; it was the furthest thing from easy. Nurses and caregivers were literal angels sent from heaven. And the family members who couldn't afford care, but did their best, they were like super angels or something.

It was hard to watch the person you love struggle, even harder to not recognize the person you love, or have them fail to recognize themselves. My parents were strong and forces to be reckoned with. They still were, but in a way that could be threatening if not contained, and devastating all at the same time.

Doing my best, I approached him like he was an anxious child and I was there to rescue him. I was glad he recognized me in the blur of his panic, as his son, and not an enemy. Mom wasn't as lucky, which was why they were kept separate from each other now, even living in the same house.

"It's okay, it's okay." I kept my voice low and my steps soft. "Look around you, what do you see?"

Grounding worked for my anxiety, which was nothing in comparison to this. But I hoped that at least, it would help him.

"Ever hear of a calm before the storm, son!" my dad yelled. "Get down!"

It was no use trying to reason with him by telling him that after one shot, a torrent of bullets would already be raining down on us if the enemies were here. I'd been here a week already and I'd figured that one out. I tell you what, walking into this and not knowing what to expect, with the expectation of being here for my vulnerable parents, it was like being slapped full force with a boulder of emotions, especially with parents as stubborn as Maureen and Charles Fletcher.

"I won't let them hurt you, Dad." I held out a trembling hand.

"And what the hell are you going to do about it? Where are my guns?" He looked around, panic charring his skin.

Ah, the guns. After that stunt he pulled with Mom, all the guns had been removed from the house.

"Dad, look. I'm still standing. I'm alright." His eyes went big, he swore and took off running toward me, a decision to risk his life in an attempt to save mine, tensing his body.

He was strong, like a bulldozer. I got my exercise from surfing, swimming, hiking with Matt, or more lately, spending time with Lily, wink.

Man, I missed her. It was more important for me to be here now, though. I already couldn't wait to hear her voice tonight.

Knocked onto my back, I was grateful for the sand that cushioned my fall. Up close, my father's eyes were even more terrifying. His breathing was rapid, spit fell from his mouth onto me and my eyes filled with tears. Damn it, this was hard.

"Dad." I wrapped my arms around him, unable to help myself.

It was a split second decision, but I thought it was distracting him. He froze. I couldn't tell the last time we shared a hug, with my dad or mom. I held on to him, patting his back, murmuring it was okay, for the two of us. For his demons and my inner child who missed out on a lot of moments like these whenever they were deployed. I was so glad they were home and in one piece, at least as far as the physical went.

They should have been spending their retirement relaxed and free at last, to let their hair down and enjoy the fruits of all they'd risked their lives for. They shouldn't have been looking over their shoulders the rest of their lives, unsettled in their bodies and their minds, unable to escape the wars, themselves, their nightmares.

"It's okay, Dad." My voice cracked and for the first time in my life, I experienced my dad shaking in my arms, crying. Oh thank goodness, because I was holding back my own tears, trying to be strong for him, or as strong as he'd approve of.

His vulnerability lasted a few seconds before he was pushing off me and standing, and we were brushing ourselves off, preparing ourselves for eye contact.

He avoided mine, picking up his fishing rod and heading toward the house.

Another day spent being strong for my ex-military parents marked off. I needed a minute. So after we had come inside, my dad lost it.

"Come on, Dad. She's just trying to help. There's no need to yell at the nurse like that," I remarked.

"You don't get to tell me what I can or can't do, boy! I said I don't want no damn pills. I don't like the way they make me feel!" He grabbed the pill bottle from the nurse's hand and threw it to the floor. The nurse backed away as he directed a crazed glare her way.

"What's all the shouting and hullabaloo for down there?" My mom's voice came from upstairs. I wasn't aware people still used that word. Where's it from, the eighteenth century or something?

"It's nothing, Mom!" I yelled back. "Stay up there and..."

Before I could finish what I was saying, my mother appeared over the wooden railing. "You don't tell me where I can or can't go in this house!"

Like two sides of the same coin, my mom and dad. Once she glanced at my father, though, she began to mutter to herself, complaining about the injustices of assigned locations in her own damn home, all while going back into her bedroom.

"Would you like to see if he'll take the meds from you?" The nurse looked at me, and I couldn't help but think that she was more than just a little grateful for me being here. Dealing with two people with PTSD was a lot. As much as you care, you're still human, with feelings that can be crushed and fears that can be triggered, no matter how hard you try. You're not a robot who can just turn those things off. I imagined that after a long day, she locked herself away in her room, trembling and mentally preparing for the dread of the following day.

It's not my parents' fault though. They can't help it. I'm not sure who to blame. I know for a fact that they're not having a good time either.

I nodded at the nurse and took the pills as she hurried upstairs to check on my mother. It took a whole lot of convincing, and at one point I considered crushing it and putting it in his drink, but I'd have felt too much like I was spiking him or something. Eventually, he took it.

"If it'll shut you up, fine. When were you leaving again?" He scowled at me.

So, yeah, that was a little rundown of what it's like helping my parents. They don't want help. In fact, helping them is like spitting in their faces. Both are used to being in complete control, barking commands and shying away from vulnerability. When they are vulnerable, because they can't control themselves, they punish the world for it. A part of that is the PTSD which makes it hard to be mad at them. But some of it? I love my parents to death, don't get me wrong. But I didn't realize the trauma I'd experienced until coming back to stay with them while they're battling this disorder.

Every time they bark a command, I shake. When I try to get close to them and they reject it, I wither. I'm a grown man, and yet, in some ways I'm still a child. Theirs. They're just as determined to be right as ever, except, what little semblance of 'homeliness' or 'coziness' they embodied before has been cleaned away by my father's accidental attempt to kill my mother.

Yes, you heard that right. Accidental attempt.

Before this year, they were like two peas in a pod. Two stern peas who have the utmost respect and admiration for each other. He wouldn't think of harming my mother. But it wasn't my mother he saw when he pointed a gun at her. And it wasn't my father she saw when she ran and ducked for cover.

Now they can't bear to be around each other, guilt and fear keeping my father from making eye contact with my still triggered mother. It's easier to handle them when they're separated from each other. Easier doesn't mean easy. The nurse keeps my mother occupied and I keep my father distracted from possible triggers, so that we can be aware and ready to handle anything that could lead either of them to, I don't know, find a gun and pull it on themselves.

Heaven knows where they'd find any weapon at all when along with all the firearms we've removed from the house, we've also hidden all the knives. It's difficult cutting into a hard block of cheese with a flimsy plastic knife. But people can be pretty crafty when they're desperate, and at fifty and fifty-two years old, they're more than just a little spry. They've only been retired a year. They're strong and fit as hell. There's no stopping them if they're determined.

So, I spent all day fishing with my father. I thought it would be a genius way to keep him distracted, while helping in my own way. Otherwise, he won't accept the help. We have to do the same thing with Mom, come up with creative ways to sneak in disguised assistance, like it's a thief wearing a ski mask. Neither of them wants to feel like they can't be left alone or look after themselves. My father will accept the idea of his only son visiting his folks for a while and catching up on times missed out on whenever they were deployed. He'll accept fishing as a father and son bonding moment. I've done so much fishing, I could take it up for a living.

It's not all bad, though. The days aren't always like today. There have been a few moments when his drawn features have cracked a smile and his dead, distant eyes light up. Those moments make the times in between, when he's dissociating and I'm terrified for him, or when he's hurling insults my way, more bearable.

Swiping my hand over my face, I picked myself up off the porch chair, took my empty beer can to the trash, stretched and started making my way upstairs to the shower. My room is on Mom's floor. Dad gets the whole bottom floor to himself. It's easier staying out of his way.

A smile stretched my cheeks when the slightly cool water touched my skin. It was getting to that time of night when I got to call Lily and share caregiver stories, although I wasn't doing any caregiving, and she was an actual practical nurse who had kicked the remaining two guys out of the house because they kept distracting her with sex, so now she was back to doing it all on her own.

If I were there, she'd just have to deal with the sight of my shirtless body every now and then, because I wouldn't be going anywhere. And if she couldn't keep her hands to herself, too bad. I'd be there to help her out whether she wanted me to or not. It's not our fault she's so insatiable. Okay, maybe we are a part of the problem.

Man, I missed her. The only reason I was all the way over here now was because I had to choose between everyday sex with Lily, and my parents. As difficult of a choice as it was, my parents needed me more. Although, at this point, it was as if they couldn't wait to see the back of me.

Drying off my body, I attempted to focus on anything else but the memory of her body, the taste of her. I was at my parents' house. Come on. I had to behave myself and control my body, if you know what I mean. Fine, I'll spell it out. I couldn't be walking around with a strong armed cock lifting up my towel. What if my mother opened the door? My cheeks burned and I grinned to myself. I was a grown ass man, but there was something about coming home.

If that ever happened, I'd never be able to look at my mom again.

But when I was behind closed doors, that was a different matter. Already 'feening' for the instant opium of Lily's voice, I didn't bother with getting dressed. Settling into the bed with the towel barely hanging around my hips, I reached for my phone, waiting for her text message, needing it to come sooner so that I could give in to her voice warming my blood, rushing through my veins, and settling in the head of my deprived cock.

Nine o'clock had already passed, which was our usual time, but guessing she might be a bit busy, I grabbed the lotion off my nightstand and started applying it to my body. Yes, the lotion was on my nightstand. A day away from Lily was too long, imagine over a week. I was starving for some of her. If I was lucky, during our calls, we got to have some fun.

Regardless, I still rubbed myself off to the thought of her before I went to bed, the moment I woke up, if I could get away in the middle of the day. I had to stop myself from checking the security footage to spy on her. Even if the only footage throughout the day consisted of her feeding her mother or watching television. I was fucking addicted. Plus, it wasn't weird. She liked when I watched her. Said it turned her on and it comforted her in some way, to know I was always there. I'm not a creep, I promise.

Giving her some time to settle down and message me to let me know when it was okay to call, I put on deodorant, drew on some shorts and headed downstairs to the kitchen for a snack. By the time I checked my phone again, it was nine-thirty. That was odd.

It was only a half hour, but we didn't mess around with our time. For the past week, I'd been ready and waiting by my phone by at least five minutes to nine, and the only time she'd been late, she was late by a minute.

Come to think of it, I hadn't received any messages from her today. Maybe except for this morning? And with the 'hullabaloo' of today, as mom would have said, I didn't check the security footage, needing moments of nothingness to relax my brain. Watching the security footage would've only reminded me of how far Lily was and I didn't want to torture myself with that. That's the mood I was in. Overwhelmed. Tired. Today was a lot.

But it was only made that much harder by the long wait I had until I knew I'd be hearing Lily's voice. Something was off. I dialed her number. Nothing. It rang out until the voicemail version of her voice picked up.

'You've reached Lily Thornbread. I don't have many people calling me, so if you're any of the houseguests I've had for the past three months... (a playful sigh) Be patient, I'll get back to you as soon as I'm free. Can't a girl catch a break?' (A soft laugh, followed by the dial tone)

Damn, I ached for her. I called her again, while opening the security camera app on my phone. A dull, pounding ache punched through my chest and into my back as the phone continued to ring. I sensed it before I saw it. A black screen. Tapping on different rooms of the small house produced the same image. Darkness. Except for a soft streak of light reflecting off the shadow on the ground that must have been coming from the street, through the glass window, there was nothing.

It was minutes to ten at night, and Lily was an early bird, having to get up at the break of dawn to start her routine with her mother, so that Mrs. Thornbread could have a sense of stability despite her catatonia distancing her from reality. She was still aware of everything by Lily's accounts, and could be having a nervous breakdown behind her stone-like appearance. It was important to establish safe and inclusive predictability, if that makes sense.

So, she wouldn't have just left the house with Mrs. Thornbread at random hours of the night, without returning home before her bedtime, which was eight o'clock. I knew, not only because we spent a couple of months together before I had to leave, but also, because when I was there, we'd all exchange a glance at that time, knowing it was 'go time'.

We'd be halfway out of our clothes by the time we hit the bedroom, even though she'd insist on having a shower first to get rid of the muck of the day. Being a practical nurse for someone who was unable to do anything for themselves was not an easy or pretty task. We'd be right there helping her though, so it only made sense to take a shower together for some of those moments, if we could contain ourselves long enough to make it to the bathroom.

The point was, Lily wouldn't be out with Mrs. Thornbread right now. They should have been in bed, sleeping. And she wouldn't have gone to bed without calling me first. I knew she could be so tired from today that she fell into bed, unable to lift a single finger to call me. No, my internal voice said as I shook my head. As I said, something was off. Unless something had happened to Mrs. Thornbread and she had an emergency. She might have just forgotten in the chaos of the moment to call me. I hoped nothing was wrong with Mrs. Thornbread.

I didn't know why my first thought was to call Ryan, but it was instinctive. The man was so obsessed with Lily that even though he was in Hawaii, I doubted he had given her a break. I meant that in the best way. We all couldn't get enough of her, but for Ryan, it was an addiction. However, with him being in Hawaii, he was in the same boat I was in. We were both too far away to know what was happening. So, I called Ethan. His phone, like Lily's, went to voicemail. Okay, my heart dinged like a notification bell as I began to relax a little.

It was possible that they were together, which was why I couldn't reach any of them. I couldn't say I wasn't a bit irritated that she wouldn't call or that Ethan would choose to take her out at this time, which was the only time of the day I could get to speak to her, according to the rule she set. But, I tried again, because the voice in my head was telling me that I needed confirmation. Especially, but I couldn't with Terry's ass still hiding out somewhere like a rat. That slimy scrawny bastard had always made my woman's life hell and up until a couple weeks ago, he had no intention of stopping. I'd only met the man twice, once when we were teens and the other, two weeks ago, but I doubted he was the type to go away after a bit of talking. It was why I was so against Ethan and Matt leaving her alone. They hadn't been in Lily's life as long as I had, they didn't understand the decades of weight that man had placed on her shoulders.

My abs tightened with the need to know that she was either with Ethan or Matt, or at least that they had heard from her. Their phones rang out, so they weren't locked off. They must have been able to see me calling, unless they were coitally engaged. Still, they both knew that this was the time

Lily and I talked. It was unlike either of them to at least shoot me a message if they got caught up. I tried both their phones again, several times. Nothing. Damn it, now I was ready to throw the phone into the wall and I didn't even have an anger problem. It was just not knowing, along with the doomsday tune thumping out a rhythm inside my head and beneath my skin that had me ready to fulminate. Something wasn't right. The tingling throughout my body was telling me it wasn't. And then my heart expanded, tightening inside my chest and suffocating my lungs when I tapped the screen again and noticed a glow coming from the front door.

Immediately, I swore, forgetting Ethan and calling Matt.

My breath came flying out of my mouth when he answered.

"Fuck, man! Thank goodness you..." I started, my knees giving out

Matt was not matching my energy. "Bro! How're you doing? How's the family?!"

What the fuck? The world was crashing and burning around me. I didn't have time for pleasantries. "I need to know where Lily is," I cut him off. "You know if she's with Ethan?"

"I don't know man, have you called him?" he asked, all relaxed and calm.

"Of course I called him!" I yelled, zooming into the footage of the open front door. Shaking my head to make sense of what was happening and find justification for why the front door would be open while the house was in complete darkness, I began to search every single room, zooming in as close as I could and investigating every pixel. "When's the last time you saw Lily?" I asked, the side of my head pounding, my fingers slipping across the phone from sweat.

"Uh...two days ago." He cleared his throat. "She wanted..."

"Two days ago!" I exploded. My blood drained right out of my body when I found Mrs. Thornbread in bed, and the rest of the house empty. Panic wrapped my throat in its grip and everything went silent, except for my booming voice. "I knew it was a bad idea for you guys to leave her alone! I don't know why I thought I could trust you with keeping her safe," I spewed before I could take it back.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Matt's voice deepened. "What the hell makes you think she's in danger? Did something happen?" Now, his breathing shortened.

"I can't reach her on the phone. At least tell me Ethan's with her!" The words flew from my mouth as I attempted to put two and two together, desperate to find a reasonable explanation, one that didn't involve her being in danger. But my throat closing in on me told me all I needed to know.

"Fuck, so you can't reach her phone and she's missing now?" He scoffed.

"Why aren't you taking this seriously? Terry..." I began.

"...is long gone. Seriously, do you think Ethan or I would've left her alone if we thought she was in danger? Three weeks we stayed with her and he was nowhere in sight. How dare you insinuate that..." He argued.

"Just tell me if Ethan's with her," I begged.

"I'm on my way home. I'll let you know if Ethan's there or not when I get to the Airbnb. Stop freaking me out, man. Get some sleep or something." Matt hung the phone up in my ear before I could tell him that I wasn't overreacting.

At least, I hoped I wasn't overreacting. Was I just mentally drained? Rubbing between my eyes, I rewound the footage. The last time Lily was in the house was that afternoon. She went to the door and that was it. She didn't come back in. My soul departed my body. My limbs became air. I couldn't feel the phone in my hand as I called back Matt or Ethan. None of them answered.

Needing to rid myself of the nightmare I already knew was looming, I considered one last attempt to make it all make sense. What if Ryan came back early? What if he was the one who surprised her at the door and they'd been at it outside, and lost track of time? Tears stung my eyes as I clung to what I hoped wasn't delusion.

Ryan

"No offense bro, but you're not the one I want to talk to now." My smile weakened when I tapped the side of my wireless earpiece and it was Eric's voice instead of Lily's.

She and I had spoken already that morning, and I knew not to call her around this time, since it was reserved for Eric. But I'd been missing her. Beautiful views, fresh air, a luxurious hotel and no Lily to share it with. I saw her in every new experience I wanted to share with her. Throwing my camera backpack over my shoulder and grabbing the tripod, I made my way to my car.

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. I can barely make out what you're saying. The reception is terrible," I said, tossing my things inside the back seat of the rental and moving away in search of a better signal.

"Is Lily with you?" Eric shouted in my ear.

"What? Why would Lily be with me? You know I'm still in Hawaii. Are you drunk or something?" I asked.

"No, I'm not drunk!" He gasped.

"What are you doing speaking to me when you could be..." I began to ask, but I was cut off by earth-shattering news.

"Something terrible has happened to Lily!" He yelled.

My legs stopped moving. They were frozen in place or they could've fallen off, because I doubted I was still standing on solid ground.

"What happened? Tell me what happened? Why haven't I heard from Matt and Ethan?" I grabbed my chest as the fresh air stopped reaching my lungs. Eric blubbered on. He was barely making any sense and my head was on the verge of exploding. "Slow down. Fuck! What happened?"

"I can't. I have to do something. Check the security footage." He hung up and the earth caved in on me, the buildings warped as if they were rushing toward me, ready to swallow me up. My knees knocked and my legs wobbled on the way back to my car, which I slumped against.

Searching for the next available flight out, I swore when it was almost twenty-four hours away. Booking it, I hopped into my car, taking steady breaths and mustering up some focus for the road. Thank goodness the hotel wasn't far away.

Jumping out of the rental, I headed straight to my room, unsure whether or not I'd even closed the car door on the way out, not caring if I had. After watching the security footage, I threw everything I had in my luggage and sent my employer a message, quitting in the middle of what was primed to be a once-in-a-lifetime event.

"I'm on my way, Lily." I muttered to myself and headed to the airport nearly twenty-four hours early, losing my mind with every damn second that passed.