Chapter 24
Chris
“I’ll go get the last load if you want to start lunch.” Running my hand down Lily’s back, I pat her ass and press a kiss to her temple.
I never thought I’d enjoy those simple touches—the ones where it’s just an intimate moment between me and her. Don’t get me wrong, the sex is spectacular, but these small gestures have me obsessed. It doesn’t even feel like it’s only been a few days since the dynamics of our relationship changed.
Then again, if I really think about it, this thing between us started long before it actually started.
She smiles up at me and runs a hand down my arm as I pull it away. My stomach flips at the sensation and the look in her eyes—so filled with affection and lust.
The perfect combination.
This weekend needs to be as relaxing as possible. We both need it. But especially her. I plan on digging through Blake’s laptop when I’m not preoccupied with Lily. She’s my main focus, but time is of the essence after yesterday.
Carlos agreed that getting out of town this weekend was a good idea. He’s going to try to pull anything he can from the traffic cameras and let me know if he finds anything.
Lily makes us lunch, and after we clean up the kitchen and she unpacks a little, we head out to the deck, overlooking the thick forest of trees lining the slope of the mountain behind the house.
On my way out the door, I grab a couple of throw blankets, a glass of wine for her, and a glass of bourbon for me.
Setting our glasses down on the small table next to the porch swing, I gesture to one end of it. “Have a seat, baby. Let me cover you up so you don’t get cold.”
Once she’s comfortable, I lay the blanket over her lap, then place the second blanket on top of the first.
“It’s not that cold out here, Chris,” Lily says with a grin.
“I’m not taking any chances with your comfort.” I lift the blanket pile and slide in next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders after handing her the glass of wine. She cuddles into my side, and I rest my cheek on the top of her head with a sigh.
This is exactly what I needed.
There’s a hesitant lilt to Lily’s voice when she asks, “Chris? Can I ask you a question?”
I tighten the hold on her shoulders. “You can ask me anything you want.”
“Why did you quit practicing?”
Every muscle in my body tenses, and the fingers tickling Lily’s arm freeze.
She’s asked me this before, and I deflected, not actually answering.
The only people who know the whole story are the ones who lived through it with me.
Any time anyone else has asked, it hurts too much to talk about it because I have to give the backstory for it to make any sense.
That’s the part I could never bring myself to admit to anyone.
But with Lily, I want to tell her everything.
Taking a deep breath, I stare out at the thick foliage. “When I was about eight, we moved to a nice neighborhood on the west side of Nashville. My parents worked hard to give us the best life, and it was a really great childhood.”
Under the blankets, Lily grips my thigh in silent support.
“My dad befriended our neighbor. Tom was the best. He was single and young, and I thought he was just the coolest. I’d go over to his house all the time to hang out with him, even after my parents told me not to bother him.
But Tom never cared. He was always happy to have me over there.
He taught me how to work on cars. How to repair washers and dryers.
How to cook. Tom was my mentor and my best friend. ”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
I kiss the top of her head. “He is a great guy. Even after I went to college, and then when my parents passed away, I stayed close to Tom. We talked every few days.” I swallow hard.
The bitterness burns my throat. “He never married until I was in my mid-twenties.” I let out a sad laugh as memories compress my chest. “He called me in between finals. I’d never heard him so nervous.
Or happy. He told me he met a woman, and he was pretty sure he was in love.
He told me about how she had a child and how he was excited to be a stepdad. ”
Lily curls more into my side as tears gather in my eyes.
“He said that I helped prepare him to be the best dad for her daughter. And that, regardless of blood, I’d always be his son.”
A sniffling noise from my side has me hugging Lily closer, grateful I’m not alone in my sudden wave of emotion.
“I don’t like where I think this is going.”
I don’t acknowledge her fear. If I lose my momentum, I won’t be able to get this out. Besides, what I’m sure she’s thinking most likely isn’t what I’m about to tell her.
“Monica was as wonderful as he said. She didn’t even think twice about accepting me as part of their family. Especially because by that point, both my parents had died. Now, her daughter was another story. Christy was wild. Always getting in trouble. Tom and Monica tried everything. Nothing worked.
Eventually, Christy moved out and had a kid, who thankfully took after his grandmother and Tom, rather than his mom. You remember Seth? From the basketball game?”
Her voice is pained when she says, “Yes, I do.”
I sigh. “That’s Christy’s son. And unfortunately for him, she never changed.
She’d beg Tom and Monica for money or a place to stay.
Sometimes, they’d give in, and sometimes, they’d put their foot down and tell her no.
Though with Seth, it got harder to say no.
So they let them move in with them a few years ago. ”
My heart hurts just thinking about getting the call from Tom. The devastation in his voice. The panic, and fear, and confusion. It was so chaotic that at first; I didn’t even comprehend what he was telling me.
“And then, Monica was murdered.”
Lily’s gasp is loud in the stillness of the early evening air.
“The cops immediately assumed Tom did it. Evidence was shaky and inconclusive, but if I didn’t know Tom and knew the situation, I might have wondered about that too. But there was no way he did it. Absolutely no way.”
When I pause, Lily pleads, “Please tell me they found who did it.”
A huff leaves my chest. “They think they did anyway.”
“Oh my god,” she cries.
“I did everything I could, but the cops didn’t care. It was a lower-middle-class blended family. Statistically speaking, Tom was the murderer.”
“Is he in jail?”
I nod, even though I have no idea if Lily’s looking at me since my eyes are still locked on the trees. “He is. I’ve filed a few appeals, but without new evidence, the judge won’t do anything.”
Lily pulls away from me. “Chris…”
When I finally turn my head, she says, “You cannot take on my case. Hell, I’m worried about you being involved in this situation at all, being triggering for you. How can you even look at me with so many reminders of Tom and Monica?”
I bury my fingers in her hair and hold her head so she can’t look away.
I need her to see that I mean what I say.
“Lily, for so long, I’ve been alone. Even surrounded by the few friends I’ve managed to hold on to over the years of working way too many hours, I’ve felt like it was me against everything.
Then I walked into that police station. And there you were.
Something in you called to me on the most visceral level.
” I take a deep breath, my lungs burning from emotion.
“And for some unknown reason, I didn’t feel that way with you.
And that feeling of loneliness has continued to lessen every moment you're with me. Like the hole that was left when my parents died, then when Tom went away, was filled by you. I need you, Lily. And I hope with every fiber of my being you need me, too.”
Emotions flicker across her face and deep in her eyes in such rapid succession, I don’t even know what to make of them. What’s she thinking about? Is she judging me? Or Tom? Is she regretting not only hiring me, but sleeping with me? Is this about to be the end of us?
“Please say something,” I beg.
Her eyes close, and I lose sight of some of the emotions. When she opens them, I’m no closer to knowing what she’s about to say.
She grips my wrists. “I need you, too, Chris. I’m scared, but I need you. But I don’t want my case to cause you stress, so please promise you’ll tell me if it gets to be too much.”
With a brief but heartfelt kiss to her perfect lips, I relent, “Okay, I’ll tell you. I don’t have any intention of stepping away completely from us, but if the legal side gets too difficult on me, we’ll have a conversation.”
Her face scrunches, and I think she’s going to backtrack and argue with me again, before her face clears and she relaxes a fraction of an inch. “Okay, I can work with that.”
I hope she means that, but I don’t push her for more reassurance. I just have to take her at her word and hope we’ll make it through this.
In every way.
She rests her head on my shoulder, and we stare into the woods. “Who do you think really did it?”
I close my eyes for a second, the bitterness burning in my chest. When I open them, I tell her, “Monica had a life insurance policy for a quarter of a million dollars that had her daughter as the beneficiary. I can’t prove it, but I think Christy found out and didn’t want to wait.”
Lily wraps her arm around my waist and hugs me tight. Having her silent support, as I admit something that I don’t say out loud very often, means more than I could ever express.
Lily’s curled up on the couch with a book, while I’m sprawled out on the other end of the couch, digging into every folder and document on Blake’s laptop. After the charged conversation about Tom earlier, we had a very quiet dinner, both of us lost in thought.
The conversation still leaves me with a knot in my stomach, only because thinking about what happened to Tom and Monica is still so emotionally draining for me. It’s difficult, even all these years later, to pull myself out of that dark place I was in after the trial.
But today, the knot is a little lighter, and it’s loosening more easily. Not because I’m not still impacted by what happened, but because having said the whole story out loud after so long of bottling it up feels cathartic.
Now I just need to focus on helping Lily.
I open a few documents and take some notes. Tapping my pen on the notepad, I read through everything I’ve written over the last thirty minutes.
Glancing over at Lily, I ask, “Does the last name Goodwin sound familiar?”
She looks up from her book and squints in thought. “Uh, I don’t think so? But if I’m being completely honest, on the rare occasions that Blake did talk about work with me, I didn’t pay much attention. And when we went to parties, I rarely retained anyone’s name.”
“Hmm, okay.” I look back at the laptop and tap my pen some more.
The couch shifts, and Lily’s body heat envelops my side. She rests her cheek on my shoulder so she can see the screen.
“Find anything useful?”
Letting out a disappointed sigh, I admit, “I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe not. It seems like a lot of what’s in here is written in a shorthand of sorts. Or at least in a way only Blake understands. I’m looking for anything that connects it and makes sense.”
We both silently read the document I have up—me for the fifth time and Lily for the first.
“You know who might be able to help is Vernon.”
Grumbling, I tell her, “Already tried that. He wasn’t too enthusiastic about helping.”
“Really? When did you go talk to him?”
“Yesterday. Right before I realized I was being followed, actually.”
“And he said he wouldn’t help?” She sounds surprised.
“Well, at first, he didn’t seem like he wanted to, but he eventually agreed he’d look through his files and send me anything he thought would be helpful. So who knows if he will follow through or not.”
Lily frowns. “That makes me kind of sad.”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. “Why’s that?”
She shrugs. “Vernon and I weren’t close by any means, but I always thought he liked me. I guess I thought that with Blake gone, his loyalty to him would be too.”
“Do you think he could be involved? That may explain why he doesn’t want to help. Maybe it has more to do with that than because he doesn’t want to help you.”
I don’t trust Vernon, but it pisses me off even more that Lily would be hurt by his actions.
After a few moments of considering my question, Lily admits, “It’s likely he knows a lot more than he’d want the cops to know if Blake was doing something illegal. Blake relied on him for everything, so I find it highly unusual for him not to know what Blake was up to.”
Some emotion passes across her face that I don’t understand, but before I can question her about it, she asks, “What else did you find? Maybe if we talk it out, we can piece things together.”
Nodding, I flip to my first page and start running through everything I’ve found.