Chapter 36 Lily
Lily
Istare at the open glove box, the maps of each national park I’ve spent time at spilling out. My fingers grip the wheel, too tight, as I replay the last several days in my head.
Like the good little traumatized citizen I am, I gave my statement, verifying over and over again that Bran, Raven, was in fact, dead. I dealt mostly with the FBI, and they informed me that an incarcerated informant out of Mississippi tipped them off to the Raven’s location.
I’d be lying if I said I cared. All I wanted to know was about Noah, and they didn’t have any updates to tell me.
Once they got what they needed from me—my statement, recorded testimony, and questions about both my brothers in Ruin—they sent me on my way with the oh-so-wise statement that I should “get my injuries looked at.”
Noah is all that matters, and I went to the hospital to see him, but when I got off the elevator, several national park rangers surrounded the nurses’ station on his floor. Then there was her. Morgan.
She paced outside the door to what I assumed to be his room, her face pale, yet streaked with wet mascara as she wiped at her face.
I hate I was too insecure to march over there for him. My stomach was in knots, feeling like an outsider, and indecision kept my legs stuck.
Did I belong there?
I hesitated, and I hate that. I let him down.
I let the sight of Morgan outside his room make me doubt everything, and Raven’s voice whispered in my head about being too damaged for him … my mind continued that mantra, whispering, maybe you were never meant to stay in Pinebrook at all.
I slam the steering wheel with my palm. The air inside the running car feels thick, and the desire to run presses down around me. Should I leave?
The glove box and all its contents taunt me, and heat rises to my face. I don’t have time for this, nor the patience. It’s a stupid thing, so small, so insignificant, but it feels like a challenge. Daring me to break.
With a sharp inhale, I shift and bring my hand up, slamming it shut with a heavy thud. It latches closed, but the frustration still buzzes beneath my skin. I stare out the windshield at the flickering neon OPEN sign in the gym parking lot.
I wince, looking into the rearview mirror as I catch my reflection. Rose-colored red is smeared on my cheeks and my eyes look like I’m high. I haven’t been sleeping.
After opening my door, I slide out, limping some as I hurry to the front doors.
The night is brisk and restless, with the wind cutting through the parking lot.
A low hollow howl snakes between the cars and loose trash blows across the asphalt.
The metal light poles groan and sway while the advertising flags of the neighboring businesses snap as gusts come in bursts.
The clouds have smothered any moonlight, leaving the dim parking lot lights to keep the eerie dark away.
Once inside the gym, I shower, dressing in some random tan leggings I found stashed in my car and an oversized sweatshirt from a gift shop in the Smoky Mountains. With my comb, I brush out my hair, leaving it dripping wet and down.
Alone in the bathroom, I lean against the cold porcelain sink and take a slow, steady breath as I inspect myself.
I push up my sleeve first. Dark, angry bruises bloom along my forearm.
My back hurts, the gentlest rub against the fuzzy inside of my crewneck bothersome.
With hesitation, I lift my shirt, turning to see deep scratches and scrapes from where my back was against the tree stump. They’re sore and I wince touching them.
More bruises stretch across my side, from the struggle as they wrestled me into the SUV.
Then my fingers drift to my nose, or the empty space my nose stud used to be. Lightly, I touch it, hissing at the scab. A tiny, jagged hole sits where the metal used to be.
Dipping my chin to my bare chest, I stare at the Raven necklace I stole from him all those years ago.
It doesn’t boost my feeling of power anymore—it’s just a chain searing my skin.
I claw at my neck, picturing his hands around it all those years ago.
He’d been lost in the moment. Half high, half consumed in pleasure.
As I pushed and pleaded, fisting anything to make it stop, I grabbed the dangling piece of jewelry and ripped it off him in my frenzied attempt to escape him.
When he was done, he walked off, leaving me bleeding and broken on the forest floor.
After I finally stood, I looked down at the necklace clutched in my hand and decided then to carry it with me.
But now …
I yank the chain, staring at it coiled in my hand like I had that night. Then, with a slow tip, it tumbles from my hand and snakes into the drain.
I exhale a pent-up breath and rip my phone out of my bag of toiletries, turn it over, and look for any messages from Noah. Hell, I’d settle for anything from anyone at this point.
My hands drop to my sides, staring at my reflection in the mirror across from me. I look like hell—feel it, too.
But Noah …
I shudder, remembering his body so still. It’s been a couple days. I should go back. Demand to know how he is doing. Demand to see him.
That’s what I’m going to do. I roll my shoulders. I’m going back.
The wind bites at my cheeks as I step out of the building, my arms locked around myself at the waist. My bag over my shoulder keeps slipping, but I ignore it staring at the pebbled asphalt on my way to my car.
With my thoughts still tangled and my body still aching, I glance up toward my car and that’s when I see him.
I draw up short, freezing mid-stride.
He’s leaning against the front of my car, gray sweatpants resting low on his hips while the long sleeve shirt he’s wearing is rolled at his forearms. Like he pushed them up in a hurry. Hands tucked into his pants pockets, he watches me, concerned grooves etched in his furrowed brows.
The slow breaths I was walking myself through become rapid and every other one gets caught in my throat.
He can’t be real. Did I hit my head and now I’m losing it? He should be in the hospital, resting and recovering. But damn it, it’s good to see him awake and breathing.
Disbelief flickers across his face. His brows are lifted, lips parted, eyes locked onto me like he’s afraid to blink.
The wind tugs at my damp hair, blowing over my face, but I continue forward, and he stumbles back, catching himself with his hand on the hood.
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath, running to him.
When I reach him, I grab his shoulder to help steady him. “Noah, what the hell? What are you doing here?”
His throat works like he’s trying to swallow words that won’t come. “I had to see you.” He pants. “To make sure you were okay. I have to make it right.”
I open my mouth to respond but quickly snap it shut.
“Damn it, Noah. You need to be in the hospital. Come on. Let me drive you back.” I move to wrap his arm over my shoulder to help him to the passenger side of my car, but he holds my forearm to stop me. He’s solid, regardless of his condition.
His eyes flicker, searching my face. The cold breeze brushes over my neck but doesn’t linger with his warm body pressed to mine.
There’s a quiet war in his eyes, but then, in a rush, he closes the distance.
His hands frame my face, fingers threading into my wet hair.
Lips crash into mine, and I blink, kissing him back.
His body melts, the aching tension unwinding as he bites at my lower lip.
I grip his shirt, and the world shrinks to just me and him. The heat of his mouth. The way he breathes me in, like I’m what he needs to survive.
When he pulls away, I’m left stunned.
“Noah …”
“I love you, Lil. I’m so sorry. I feel like it’s all my fault he took you. Brent told me he wanted to meet with me. Then he wanted me to help him move the Jackpot. When I told him no, Brent told me he’d go after you. It’s a sick twist of fate that he was the one from all those years ago—”
My mind struggles to keep up. “What are you talking about? It doesn’t matter anymore, Noah. Come on. Let’s get in the car.”
He nods and I help him to the passenger seat. I run around to the driver’s side of the car and slide in, turning on the heat and move my junk off the dash.
I turn to look at him. “Seriously. Why aren’t you in the hospital? They couldn’t have possibly discharged you.”
“I told you. I had to see you. Are you okay?” He reaches for my face.
I smile and shake my head. “Compared to you, I’m fine. Thank you for coming for me. You and Max. I don’t understand, though. What did you mean Brent told you?”
Noah turns to look at me better. “There’s something you don’t know about me. I-I’ve kept it hidden and to myself because it’s not who I am. I …” He pauses.
I wince and chew at my middle fingernail, bracing for it. I can’t picture Noah in trouble.
“Years ago, I came home after a night class at my community college to find my mother crying in her bedroom. You know her … she never cries. So, I scoured the house looking for what may have triggered her tears and found a stack of bills on the counter. All past due.
“I was angry for her. My mother, who works harder than anyone I know, was struggling to keep the house she loved because she was paying for my college.”
Noah sighs, turning away to stare out the window.
“Brent concocted a plan one evening while we were out with friends. He said tourists were rich and often kept cash in their hotel safes. It was stupid, but I went along with it thinking—well, I wasn’t thinking, just remembering the pile of overdue bills.”
He shakes his head and drags a hand down the front of his face.
“We broke into three motel rooms before the police were called. I managed to get away, but Brent was caught. The police had security footage, but we had black ski masks on. It was so stupid, but he never gave me up. He took the fall, was charged with grand larceny, and spent six months in jail.”
I’ve never stolen anything, but I know desperation can make people do things they’d never dream of. Trust me, I know. Those first years making it on the road were brutal. “That was years ago, Noah. Years. I know that isn’t you.”
“Yeah, well after he got out things were never the same. He went away and came back addicted to drugs, then shortly after started to hit me up for money to feed his addiction. It’s horrible, but I gave it to him, feeling guilty for letting him take the fall and terrified he’d ruin the reputation in the career I’ve worked hard to build for myself.
I love my job and working with Max. I was afraid of losing that.
” Noah grimaces and shakes his head. “I let him manipulate me. Then his boss came and got involved.”
“It’s not your fault, Noah. When did you meet him, Raven?”
“One of my meets with Brent. He came and wanted to recruit me. Wanted backroads into the park to move product. When I told him no … I didn’t know he was Bran.
I didn’t know. Maybe I should’ve when I found that poem with those two words on it.
If I’d known … I would’ve killed him, Lil. I wouldn’t have waited.”
I stare at him. So he did find the poem.
Noah shifts like he’s uncomfortable, maybe with his words or from the pain I’m sure he’s feeling.
“I was going to tell you about it, the poem. I thought perhaps it was a prank. I don’t know what I’m doing, Noah. A real relationship—that’s not something I’m good at. I don’t want to let you down. I don’t want to let your mom down.”
He screws up his face. “My mom?”
“She told me you’ll try to take on everything alone and I told her I’d be there for you …”
I move to throw the car into reverse—I need to get him back to the hospital.
He throws a hand on top of mine. “Tell me you won’t leave. Tell me this is forever. You and I.”
My mouth falls open.
“I’ve walked a lot of trails, run many miles, climbed just like you have to see what’s on the other side.
I thought nothing could make me feel more alive.
Mountains, the rivers, storms rolling in on my patrols.
I chased the wild. I kept moving, thinking there had to be an untamed love that defied the expectations put on me.
Then you happened. You are my wild—fierce and breathtaking.
If I have to spend the rest of my life keeping up with you, chasing you, loving you like I do the wilderness, then that’s exactly what I’ll do. ”
“They’ve given you too much pain medicine. I have to get you back.” I move to shuck his hand away.
“Lily, stop, please. I’ll go back, but I can’t stay there wondering if you’re okay, if you’re going to leave. Because if you are, I’m coming with you.”
I bite my lip, shaking my head to hide my smile. This man. The one person I’d jump off a cliff for. The one kind of person I swore to hate.
I take his hand. “I’m more at peace here, now, than I’ve been in six years. I’m tired of running, Noah. I want to make my home here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”