10. Lilith
LILITH
“Lil.” From her place on the couch, Hope glances over her shoulder as soon as I step inside. “There you are.”
She’s already in gray loungewear, her hair damp and piled on top of her head in a messy bun. After the day I’ve had, I can’t wait to shower and change into something comfortable too.
“Here I am.” Despite being exhausted, I offer her a smile as I push my hood off my head. “What’s up?”
“Apparently, your hair.” She puts her book on the coffee table and walks toward me.
“What about it?” I pat a hand over the knot in the back of my head and groan.
It isn’t mildly ruined like I thought back at Alaric’s. This thing is barely a bun at this point, not to mention the way my hair is puffed out around my head.
At least I’m home and not at work. One by one, I start pulling out the bobby pins and the hair tie, shoving them into my hoodie pocket.
Hope watches me, her eyes narrowing, then opening wide. “You two hooked up.”
“Nope.”
“Then?” Her eyebrows lower as she studies my heated face. “Tell me.”
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s lying to Hope.
Unfortunately, I don’t have much of a choice.
I take a deep breath and lead her back to the couch. Once we sink into the cushions, I kick off my shoes, leaving them on the rug by the coffee table before pulling my feet up onto the couch and tucking them under me. Mom would’ve punished me for making a mess in her precious living room.
Some of her rules, like no loud noises, have stuck with me to this day. Not that one.
Shaking off the memory, I look at Manhattan’s night lights glowing through the windows and remind myself I’m home. That wherever Mom is, she has no power over me.
Still, my stomach churns as I start telling Hope about my evening, a story riddled with half-truths. I feel like I’m going to be sick by the end, when I have to lie outright and tell her I lingered outside Alaric’s building after he went in, and the wind must’ve messed up my hair.
“Sounds like you had fun.” Hope squeezes my hand, her gaze encouraging.
Ugh. The guilt is killing me.
“I did.” Wanting to avoid any more questions, I clear my throat. “Enough about me. What have you been up to?”
“Nothing as exciting.” She waggles her eyebrows, and I slap her shoulder playfully. “I mean it, though. I haven’t done much, just meditated on what I want to do with my life, and it was amazing. I have a great feeling about this, Lil. Like I can tell I’ll have everything figured out soon.”
Tears well in my eyes, my lips pressing together to keep them from trembling.
For someone named Hope, she’s had every reason to be hopeless. But she isn’t. Her voice turns animated as she talks about the bright future she sees for herself.
She’ll have that. I’ll make sure of it.
That’s a lesson Alaric taught me without even meaning to. That night in the hospital, simply by sitting at my bedside, he showed me what it means to be in someone’s corner when they have no one else.
“Are you okay?” Her brow furrows.
Still trying to hold back the tears, I clip out, “Of course, why?”
“You’re quiet. Are you upset that I’m not going to college or trade school? If you regret telling me it’s okay to take my time with this, it’s fine.” Her lips twist. “I’ll do it, get a degree and a higher-paying job. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back for the apartment and everything else.”
“Absolutely not.” The thought of pushing her into anything dries my eyes and fills me with resolve. “First, like I keep telling you, you can’t pay me back when it’s our money. Second, I’m excited for you. And I’m proud of you. Come here.”
The moment I open my arms, Hope launches herself at me. We hug, cry a little because—dammit, these emotions—and eventually return to our places on the couch.
“Okay.” I use the back of my hand to wipe the last tear from my cheek. “It’s been a long day. I need a hot shower and my bed.”
Hope’s expression turns serious. “You haven’t had dinner.”
Normally, I don’t skip a single meal. Tonight, though, I’m too full of feelings and thoughts. Not to mention, I’m deadly curious about Alaric. Food is the last thing on my mind.
“I’m exhausted,” I tell her.
“What if I make you something real quick?” She’s already up, sauntering into the kitchen. “I can whip up your favorite cream cheese sandwich. It’s so easy and will be ready in a sec.”
“Hope.” I walk over to her. With a hand on hers, I stop her before she opens the fridge. “I swear, I’m fine. I’ll have a big breakfast tomorrow.”
She dips her chin. “Swear?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, missy. You’re getting a pass this time.” She gives me her best Ada, our foster mom, voice.
That woman was both adorable and funny. Unless our grades started slipping. Even then, she was never upset when she reminded us we needed to graduate so we’d have options. Or, in my case, so I’d be able to go to college, then get my well-deserved inheritance.
I point at her with a gentle, knowing look to complete the Ada impression, and we both laugh.
“See you tomorrow.” I start heading to my room.
“One more thing.” The hint of hesitation in her voice stops me. “Fuck, I can’t believe I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
When I turn to face her, I find her in the kitchen, wringing her hands.
“I might be overreacting about something that happened while you took a break today.”
My stomach plummets first. Then rage swirls in my chest.
I stalk toward her and cup both her hands in mine.
“I swear to God, if someone’s harassing you, I’ll”—beg Alaric to make them disappear—“make sure they never come near you again.”
“What?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “No, no. Everyone’s been super nice. No one’s bothering me at all.”
I’m only mildly comforted by that. “Who do they bother, then?”
“Remember Mrs. Tobin?”
How can I forget? She’s the sweet lady with the white hair and kind green eyes who comes in twice a day with a walker. She always orders mint tea, even though one of the nurses can help her, claiming she needs to stretch her legs.
But what I remember most about her is the bruises on her face and arms. Every time I see her black-and-blue skin, my pulse spikes and my fists clench, ready to go after whoever did that to her.
That’s another thing I could ask Alaric to look into, once he tells me about his life as a vigilante.
“Yes.” I nod eventually. “What about her?”
“The cafeteria was empty when she stopped by. So, you know me, I love talking to our customers while I get their orders ready. We chatted about the hospital, the weather, stuff like that.” Hope’s lips pinch.
“But then I asked if they were discharging her anytime soon. One question, and she turned pale, Lil. Like, ghost pale. I don’t think she wants to go home. ”
“Her son has been around once. He seemed nice enough, helped her to her seat and…”
The rest of the sentence dies on my tongue.
My heart drops as the memory of her son takes shape.
His face.
He’s the man from the alley. The stranger who isn’t a stranger at all.
Alaric kidnapped Mrs. Tobin’s son.
Needing to protect his secret, I force my lips into what I hope passes for a genuine smile, keeping my stunned, adoring reaction bottled up.
It’s a struggle, though. A goddamn effort.
“I remembered him, too. That’s why I mentioned him to her.
” Hope shifts on her feet like she’s been caught doing something bad.
She hasn’t. Abusers have a way of being charming on the outside and fucking monsters on the inside.
“I suggested that, together, they could file a report against whoever’s been hurting her, if that was the case.
That’s when things got even weirder. All she did was say yes, yes, thank me, grab her tea, and head out of the cafeteria as fast as she could. ”
“I see.”
I really do. Clearer than before.
Mrs. Tobin had to have been Alaric’s patient when she was brought in.
And he, with years of experience, probably has a sixth sense for who needs his special help. Besides the glaring evidence, that is. It has to be the reason he kidnapped her son.
My heart aches for him.
How many of us did he have to see before snapping?
Before taking charge and doing right by us?
I wish I could run over there and hug him.
Can’t.
I can’t do anything about it, period. Not yet.
Well, maybe I can do something. His storage unit had one of those fancy locks. I won’t be able to pick it, ever.
However.
The door to the right had a cheap, rusty lock. The unit is probably owned by a tenant who hasn’t gone down there in years.
I’ll break in there, drill a hole in the wall, and be his quiet accomplice.
“Earth to Lil.” Hope waves in my face. “What do we do?”
“You stay out of it.” I straighten my spine, leveling her with my most serious glare. The last thing she and I need is for her to stumble on Alaric’s secret. “I’ve got this.”
A scowl twists her features. “Why can’t I help?”
“Because if he had it in him to hurt his own mother, he won’t hesitate to do worse to a stranger. I don’t want him anywhere near you. I’ll have someone look into it.” It isn’t a big lie. “I promise.”
“Alaric?”
“Yes. He probably knows the proper channels to go through to handle a situation like that.”
That seems to satisfy her, and she goes back to reading the book she left on the coffee table in the living room.
I’m just as satisfied, because Alaric is already handling this messy situation.
Not through the proper channels, though.
Through the right ones.