Chapter 28
Lily
W hen Ethan said he hired a nurse, I didn't expect her to show up in the foyer a few minutes later with her suitcases and basically move in with us. Way down deep, I was relieved, especially since it was a woman I'd worked alongside whenever I'd volunteered at the shelter. She was the same person who took care of my mother in emergency situations when I couldn't do it. So, he did a spectacular job without even knowing it. I just wished he'd talked to me about it first.
But, I understand why he did it, I reminded myself. I needed to stop complaining when everything was falling into my lap, just the way I wanted it. It was something I had to get used to, you know, surrendering to a man. He was the 'get it done type', and I was the 'I can do it by myself type'. But that moment during capture made me question everything. If I'd have listened to them in the first place and moved at the first sign of trouble, then... I shuddered at the memory.
Taking a deep breath, I accepted the hugs and the good-naturedness of the women from the shelter while they asked me how I was doing and if there was anything else that they could do for me. As I watched the nurse chat with Ethan before wheeling my mother away behind him, I reminded myself that when it came to all my men, they were as close to perfection as possible. As they made decisions behind my back, I convinced myself that while surrendering felt like I was being left out of making my own choices, that might be what I needed right now.
When he returned from the hallway, through the arched entryway to the kitchen and back into the living room where the women had just left, I bit my tongue. If there was ever any man I could surrender to, it would be him, them. The perfect man doesn't exist, 'they' say. I believed 'them'. But he was doing what I dreamed of when I was captured. So, I needed to stop being weird about it. There was no need for this big ass boulder in my chest, resting on my lungs.
"Matt and I spent the morning clearing out his room and rearranging it for your mother. I've just sent the nurse with her there. I hope that's okay?" Ethan stroked my shoulder.
See? He was checking in with me. Yes, my life as I knew it changed in the blink of an eye and I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about it. But I was happy that I could rest, knowing that I'd been reunited with my world, which included my men and my mom. And I was able to rest because of their generosity, their willingness to help, Ethan and Matt's ability to afford whatever we needed.
There was nothing wrong with accepting help. It didn't mean I was useless, or a burden, or that I was just begging to be taken advantage of.
"Thanks." I smiled, but I kept glancing toward the hallway, tapping my fingers against my arm.
"You can go in if you want, you know," he said and I swallowed a hiss in response, biting back the need to tell him I didn't need his permission. I was like a scorpion, ready to attack. What was the matter with me?
Battling with my unease, my head spun as I dodged furniture on the way to the room Matt had graciously given up for my mother to occupy until the big move, which I still couldn't believe was happening. Things were working in my favor. I would've been happy with a regular ass house with the space they promised me I could have, but I'm going to be living in a mansion on a private island? Me? Pinch me, I must be fantasizing again, locked away with that mad man, dreaming impossible dreams. I pinched myself for effect. These things didn't happen to people like me. But they were and I couldn't feel my feet. I was distorted, waiting for that pin to drop.
Shifting from foot to foot, I stood outside the room waiting for the nurse to be done with my mother. After I offered to heat up some of that soup Matt bought, I was informed by the nurse that my mother had already eaten before coming here, and that she had her bath, so it was just down to changing and combing her hair before her midday nap. Well, whoop de doo, guess I was just in the way then?
There was this weight in my chest, on my shoulders and feet, that wouldn't be lifted until I saw my mother. The closest I'd ever been to her had been through taking care of her. We hadn't had that parent-child bond, but I craved it so much right now.
There are moments when you need a mother, maternal love. Sometimes you have to be that for yourself. But well, my mother was in there, wasn't she? Even if she couldn't give me what I needed, I was all she had, and for five years, she was all I had. That's how we 'bonded', I guess. And with the nurse here, it was as if I was losing that. I didn't want to lose that. Not right now. Now, I needed my mother more than ever. It surprised me how much I did. I fought the urge to burst into the room and take care of all her needs by myself. I didn't, of course not. I had manners. Sometimes.
Imagining it was awkward enough as it was, spending her first day here with us, I didn't want the nurse to feel like I was stepping on her toes. So, I was hanging outside in the carpeted hallway, admiring the carvings on the white wall and fighting this lust I had, for the need to feel less like a victim who needed to be waited on, and taken care of, and more like who I was...am? That's the thing. I didn't know who I was anymore.
All my life, I've known that I was Lily Thornbread, the girl who grew up in her own personal hell with my assigned demons. Demons who lived on inside me when I left that hell and taught me that hell didn't have to be a physical place, but that it had infiltrated my body and mind. And that the demons trapped inside were growing larger and more angry through the years. I've known my demons in the drugs, in the conviction I had against men, in my resentment I held for Eric, in being my mother's caregiver and bearing that burden for what I thought would be the rest of my life. It was a reality I accepted and was comfortable with.
A few months ago, I had a pleasant awakening, with Eric's return and meeting his three best friends. It rocked my world, but I was taking my time with the changes, going at my own pace. Until I blinked and everything I knew slipped from my fingers.
Last week, I wasn't sure I was ready to give up the life I'd known, the life that had given me an identity, and this week, the choice to move at my own pace was taken away from me. Because I can't go back to that reality. I can't stay in Durham, or ever go back to that house.
That place holds too many bad memories, and it took years and courage for me to return there, and submit myself to the trauma that stained the walls, the echoes of past arguments that lived in the floorboards and creaked during inconvenient and spontaneous moments, the scent that didn't change no matter how much bleach and cleaning products I used to scrub the place down.
But I'd beaten the drugs, swallowed my resentments, returned and taken charge. I was in control of the decisions I made in that house for five years.
Now all of that resilience that I built has been washed away in the same storm I thought I'd lived through and wouldn't have to face again. Hurricane Terry Thornbread. The lightning of his entitlement, his anger, his greed, his...just 'him', struck twice in the same place. He did the impossible.
That man bulldozed his way back into my life and shattered my walls that I'd built up to protect me, showing me that I'd always been under his control. It's just been a matter of when he chose to strike. I can't rebuild my walls again. I can't go back to the life I had, so I'm forced to start over. And it's not as easy as I dreamed it would be. Because who am I without that life?
Sniffling and wiping away the tears, I let myself focus on the positive to keep standing. This private island that the men want to buy is perfect. If I need time to figure out who I am again, that is the place to do it. Knowing me, if I'd been left on my own to deal with this, I'd isolate myself until the noise became too loud to run from. And when I'd been pulled to the ground, unable to get back up again, and I was on the verge of an evasive death, then I'd see a therapist, desperate for the ache to stop. If it had been left up to me to handle, I'd push the guys away little by little, and lose the best parts of my life. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for that.
How do I know that's what I'd do? Because I'm still running. I thought that all I needed was to be reunited with my men and know I was safe in their arms. A part of that is true, but the noise is still there, and every second, I fight the need to get away from everything and everyone. But I choose to stay, because I know I'm safer with my men around.
The truth is that I trust them with me, more than I trust myself. And I'm tired of running, even if I can't seem to stop. Sure, it would be nice to find out who I am, on my own, but what's the harm in doing it with the men I love?
The voice of reason or in my case, doom creeps into my struggle to focus on the positive. The harm in surrendering everything to them is you'll lose your identity in them, or make your identity about them . Letting out a deep breath, I groan. Does everything have to be so drastic? Why can't they just be my support system?
That voice begins to force its way through my stronghold. No, I won't sabotage this for myself. I want this and I'm letting myself believe the opposite of my default thinking, which is to always expect the worst. I've been through the worst. Now I want to believe that good things can happen to me, and that I deserve to have a happy ending, and beginning, and middle. Yes, but... My mind echoes.
But what?! I yell on the inside. What if they're not who you think they are? Having short bursts of time with someone and living with them are two different things. What if they're not as perfect as you think? What will you do then? How will you get out?
I'm not doing this right now. My brain needs to get the memo. If my men couldn't be trusted, I'd know. They're nothing like Terry Thornbread, that's for damn sure. And that, my friend, is a brilliant start.
Didn't Eric dodge questions about his bruises? No, he said it was an accident with Matt. What kind of accident? It doesn't matter.
Humming to drown out my self-sabotaging thoughts, I took a peek into the room, tapping my foot. I didn't like to think that everything happened for a reason, but a silver lining annoyingly showed itself to me as I watched my mother, still sitting there in silence, her skin pulled down by her inner, unspoken torment. I got it now. My mother and I were more alike than I'd allowed myself to admit before. Instead of resentment, all I wanted to do now was hug her. She didn't have someone to save her from that man, but I did.
I was moving to that private island with them, and that was that. It was far enough away, hidden enough, that I could start over brand new and not have to worry about my father or his partner ever finding me again. My mother wouldn't have to worry about him finding her either. She also got her fresh start. Because those two criminals would roam the streets again, at some point, just as we began to get comfortable.
I wouldn't give them access to me again.
What was the most they were going to get for kidnapping? Fifteen years? He'd be out in his seventies or eighties. I doubted age would stop him from attempting something even worse the next time. He didn't self-reflect; he blamed and grew angrier. Fifteen years in a prison cell could let that demon in him fester and grow until it was a monster, destroying everything and everyone in its path.
Shuddering at the thought, I was relieved when the door opened. The nurse jumped at the sight of me, and in my distortion between my reality and the thoughts in my head, it took some time for my glazed-over eyes to focus on her.
"Sorry, I scared you." I found the words to speak and mustered up a smile to plaster on for her comfort.
"How are you doing?" She asked. "Are you okay with me staying here?"
I wondered if she asked the question because my presence outside the door was something out of a thriller. Imagine a scene in a movie where the killer lurked in jealousy, waiting to catch the new person, taking over their role, off guard before striking. Yeah, that was what I looked like right now, just standing here in silence, watching her every move. It was comical, but I was still horrified that I'd make her that uncomfortable, and I rushed to reassure her.
"Me? Are you okay with staying here? I doubt it's easy to move in with a bunch of strangers. I mean, we've known each other, but we don't know each other, do we? It's a bunch of men, and I know a lot of us at the Women's Shelter have had a problem trusting men after being hurt so often by them..." I said.
"No, no. I had a wonderful husband. We were married for over twenty years." Her cheeks still reddened as she spoke of him, and it was like a soothing balm to my earlier concerns, knowing that despite the years between them, she still blushed at the thought of him. The thought of having that with my men in twenty years was lulling.
"Were?" I asked.
She dropped her head. "Yes. He died six months ago." Her voice grew foggy, and she took a deep breath before raising her head. "Look, I want you to know that I don't judge you. I remember your story, and I want you to know that I'm proud of your progress. Working at the Women's Shelter was important to me because I'm a woman, first and foremost. And because I have friends and family members who have been victims of abuse, by partners and other family members. A lot of them didn't make it. Some of them don't have a support system. But you do. You have four men who love you."
I blushed at that. For some reason, I was still surprised when the public reminded me that they knew what was going on in my bedroom.
"Some of us can't even find one. Some of us only find one." Her eyes reddened. "Don't let anyone let you doubt the love they have for you. I've seen love in a man's eyes, and I see it in theirs when they look at you. What happened to you recently..." She shook her head, curling her lips in disgust. "It shouldn't have happened. But these men? They will go to the end of the earth for you."
It was as if she had heard my earlier thoughts and came through with a confirmation to put all my doubts to rest. Falling into her, I wrapped her up into a hug, thanking her as she rocked with me, our tears soaking each other's shirts.
"Right." She pulled away, mopping up her tears with the back of her hand as I wiped away mine. "So, this job gets me away from the house, you know? Plus, most of our money went into his medical expenses. My children offer to help, but I don't want to become a burden. When I heard of your Ethan's salary offer, I couldn't refuse."
A thousand times lighter than I was moments ago, a genuine smile spread to my cheeks. "I'm glad you're here."
"Oh!" She sniffled again as tears tumbled down her cheeks. "Thank you. I needed to hear that. I didn't want to be an obstacle."
Guilt washed over me from my initial ruminations. I was so caught up in me, I forgot that she was just a person doing a job, a job that would help give me time to recover and work on myself. As I watched her head to the room Ryan sacrificed, I let myself be comforted on my way into my mother's room.
My heart broke apart like splinters of glass as I watched her with renewed eyes. Hurrying toward her, I wrapped her in my arms. She wasn't my burden anymore; she was my mother, and I missed her. I wanted her back.
She was stiff as a board in my arms as I lay next to her in the bed, wishing for a miracle that would melt her body so that she could turn and hug me back. Although I wasn't sure she would if she could. Thank goodness for the nurse's earlier hug that filled that hole for now.
"So, it's been a couple days, hasn't it?" I spoke to her.
"It's been a couple days, hasn't it?" She echoed back.
I nodded, stroking her long gray hair, pulled back into a braid.
"You must have been wondering where I was. I've never left you that long, have I?" Choking on the welling up of tears, I cleared my throat. "I want you to know that I understand you now. I always knew dad..." The word gave me heartburn. "Was a monster, but I'm sorry for ever blaming you for not leaving him sooner. For years, I told myself I wasn't afraid of him. I convinced myself it would be easy to walk away from a waste of space like him. I even proved it to myself when I walked away from Marco. But Terry Thornbread is an evil man. A terrifying man. He..."
I gasped, considering whether or not to tell her what happened. At some point, it'd shift from simple venting to trauma dumping on a vulnerable person who couldn't talk back, so I swallowed what happened to me, kissing her forehead instead.
"It doesn't matter. All I want you to know is that I love you. I no longer judge you. I understand why you needed to escape and this is the only way you knew how." A tear fell onto her face and I wiped it away.
"Whenever you're ready, come back to us. We'll be waiting. And I know a lot has changed, don't be scared. We're in this together." My admission brought me a semblance of peace, but the stiffened silence in the room as we both lay together with unspoken words lodged in our throats left me longing, still, for a listening ear.
On cue, there was a knock on the door. It was Eric and he was holding a picnic basket.
Eric
There's only so much sex can do to help you forget for a few mind-blowing minutes at a time. But there are some things we aren't meant to forget; we're meant to confront our worst memories and push through in order to come out on the other side.
The sex between us now, it's a distraction, and I'm not complaining. It helps me too, to forget that we almost lost her. It has those endorphins popping off, but I still wake up in the middle of sleep to check that she's next to us. If she leaves my side for too long, to go to the kitchen, or hell, even the bathroom, I panic.
If I'm panicking, I know she's freaking the hell out without saying anything.
Back when we were teenagers, we used to confide in each other on a beach near our high school. We trusted each other with our deepest secrets, and our vulnerability. I know we're no longer kids, and she's just been through something she may not have words to process, but I want to remind her that I'm more than just her lover, I'm still her best friend. I also know that I broke the trust she had in me when she was vulnerable, and I ditched her. I'm hoping that I've made up for that in the past couple months, and she isn't still holding that against me.
As I said, we're no longer kids. I wouldn't run out on her like that again. Even if I was feeling like I had nothing to offer her when we finally got her back, as if I was just an extra, useless, tiny finger hanging off the hand of Ethan, Matt and Ryan, that could be cut off and I wouldn't be missed. I still couldn't leave her, because I promised myself to her. It's also why I've submitted my body to her, for her pleasure and mine. If that's all I had to offer in the moment, that's all I'd give. Except, before there was Ethan, Matt and Ryan, there was just Lily and me. I want to remind her of that.
The nurse told me that she was catching up with her mother, so I'd waited, but my excitement has me turning up at the door and swanning in.
"My love?" I call out with a grin and the picnic basket in my hand.
Lily's puffy, swollen eyes look up at me. She's curled up on her side, holding her mother on the queen-sized bed. The flat-screen TV on the wall before them is on low, but neither of them are watching it. The blinds are pulled, allowing a slight filter of sunshine into the muted purplish-gray room.
Mrs. Thornbread lies straight, on her back, her arms crooked in the air like hooks, which must be uncomfortable, but we know from experience that there's no moving them until she's ready. Lily tries desperately to hug her and my heart breaks, wanting to scoop her up myself and wrap her around me.
"Oh...I'm sorry," I hesitate. "Am I disturbing you?"
"No." She sniffled. Wiping her face and smiling, she rose from the bed, eyes on the picnic basket. "What's that?"
Padding my thumb across her cheek, I wiped away the tear stains while turning on the light in my smile. "I was wondering if you were still up for that surprise."
Her eyes twinkled and she moved toward me, keeping her voice low. "It's broad daylight, and we have the nurse staying here. We can't sprawl outside there for another picnic." She tapped my chest and pulled on my shirt to give me a kiss.
I had a flashback to the steamy night on her lawn when I learned of her attraction to Ryan. That same night she came harder than anyone I've fucked before ever had. Damn, that night was hot. My balls tightened thinking about it. I swallowed and shook my head, grinning past the hoarseness in my throat. "No, horny."
She grinned, running her hand over my shirt and pushing me out of the room and into the hallway, so she could sneak her hands under the fabric and over my abs while kissing me. I dodged her lips and she pulled her brows in.
"I was thinking we could do like old times. Get away to a beach, lay on the sands, and let the waves wash over our thoughts."
Her palms went cold against my skin and she froze.
"What is it?" I asked, putting down the basket to hug her.
"It sounds like a wonderful idea, but..." She murmured against my shoulder.
"Okay, that's okay," I said, stroking her back. "Why not?" I probed, disappointed in myself for upsetting her.
"Do you know if they arrested my father yet? Or if his partner got caught? I've been avoiding the news." She pulled back and hugged herself. Her pupils were tiny dots.
Of course. I should've thought about her leaving the house. I'd also been so focused on Lily, I hadn't checked on anything outside of these four walls. Except the beach, with my dumbass. As I pulled out my phone and typed her name into the search engine, my chest tightened. Looking up at Lily and watching her eyes shift, I reached out to stroke her shoulder before reading the headlines.
Kidnapping Suspects At Large. They read.
My blood boiled. What the fuck, man? How does that asshole father of hers keep evading justice? Not more than a few minutes after reading the news, the doorbell rang and my blood ran cold. I pulled my brows together. As far as I knew we weren't expecting anyone else. The hairs on my skin rose and I ran downstairs with Lily on my heels. There's no way...
He wouldn't dare. He doesn't have the nerve.
But if it is...
Lily might see a side of me that'll leave her hating me. And that would end up ruining things between me and her. All because of him. Again. I can't fucking stand that man and I wish he'd just fucking leave her life already. I want her to feel safe, damn it. And as long as him and the fucker he recruited are still 'at large', she won't.