12. Lilith
LILITH
Leaving the hospital without Alaric feels strangely empty.
I only saw him a few hours ago, and I already miss the rough way he touches me. The obsession in his eyes. The heat rolling off his body.
And yet I don’t regret telling him to back off.
Because if he’s with me, it means he’s not hurting Harold like he should.
In fact, he hasn’t since he kidnapped the asshole. I know that because last night, when I watched his storage unit through the peephole I drilled into the wall on my lunch break, Harold looked clean. The lines on the monitors moved steadily, signaling he was alive, stable, and taken care of.
Meaning, he wasn’t harmed.
It dawned on me then that Alaric had to have been too exhausted or overworked to stay in the storage unit for more than a few minutes. It might also explain why he hadn’t stopped by the cafeteria until today.
That’s why I told him not to walk me home. I was leaving that time slot open for him, so when I settled in by the peephole later, I’d get to see what he had planned.
True, the mature thing to do would be to pull Alaric into a dark, camera-free corner and ask, Hey, do you kill bad people? Are you a vigilante? I’m kind of into that.
Only problem is, our relationship isn’t there yet.
So, as much as his absence sours my mood, I’m happy about my decision.
Besides, it won’t be long before I see him from the peephole. That is, assuming I’m not wrong about the whole thing.
“—and that’s how I came up with the idea of opening a bakery.”
Hope’s words snap me out of my Alaric daze.
Holy shit, she wants to open a bakery? This is important. More than important, it’s great news. She’s found something she’s passionate about. Something she wants to pursue.
“Wow, Hope.” Blinking the world into focus, I realize we’re a block away from home. I must’ve zoned out for most of the walk. “Are you serious?”
“I… Yes?” She sucks in a deep breath, then lowers her gaze to the sidewalk.
“If it’s okay with you, of course. I can afford the ingredients and secondhand baking equipment with the cafeteria paycheck.
And Delany’s willing to help. She was so sweet when I told her about this and promised she’d be my first customer.
Renting a store, on the other hand, that’d be—”
“Stop right there.” I take her hands, ignoring the new prickly sensation at the back of my neck that says I’m being watched.
Hope needs the reassurance. Worst case, if someone’s after us, we can run and be inside our lobby in no time.
“New baking equipment, rent—you’ll have everything you need to chase your dreams.”
“It’s a lot of money.” Moisture wells in her round eyes. “You’ve given me too much already. I wasn’t asking for more.”
“You don’t have to.” I squeeze her hands. “It’s your bank account too. Take what you need from it.”
“Lil.” She lifts her chin in defiance. “I only meant to ask for a loan, not a gift.”
“It’s yours, and—” I start, but one look at her narrowed eyes tells me she won’t budge.
So I try something else. “What if we meet somewhere in the middle? You could put together a business plan.” The weight of someone’s attention presses in closer.
I brush it off again. The city’s always crowded.
Always. “Estimated revenue, costs, your long-term goals, and how you plan to get there.”
“So you can be my investor?” Her entire face shines brighter than the faint glow of the lampposts. “Or we could be partners? Fuck, yeah. That’d be amazing.”
“No, this bakery is yours and yours alone.”
“I said I didn’t—”
I release one of her hands and lift a finger. She quiets.
“Having a thorough, organized plan will make it feel real. And you need that proof. For yourself, not for me. I already believe in you.”
“Seriously? Just a plan? As in, putting my dream on paper?” A single tear slips free, streaking down her cheek. Another follows. “That’s nothing. Ask me for something else. Something that would be worth your—”
“Don’t say it.”
“Our investment.”
“Look.” I lower my voice to a whisper, hating the thought that strangers might hear my sob story.
“I told you my mother always hung threats over my head. Be polite, or else. Be quiet, or else. Get good grades, or else. This isn’t and will never be part of who I am.
That’s why I keep saying it’s our money.
We’re family, and families trust each other.
If you’re serious about this dream, I’m begging you, go for it.
No or else. No loan. None of that. So yes, just the business plan, since it’ll help you sleep better at night. ”
“Oh my God.” A sob rips out of her. She wrenches her hand out of my hold and throws herself at me. I hug her back, patting her as she cries. “This can’t be real life. I can’t believe I’ll have my own business. Me, a nobody.”
Anger makes every breath hot in my lungs.
At her parents. At the system that didn’t get to her fast enough.
At the world.
Never again.
“Hey, hey, stop it right there.” I place both hands on her shoulders, pulling away to look at her.
“What?” Her chin wobbles as she swipes at her tears.
“You’re far from being a nobody.” My voice shakes. “You’re Hope fucking Carver. Barista extraordinaire. Future best baker in New York. And my sister.”
More sobs rattle her small body. Unable to take it anymore, I fold her into another hug.
Fate was cruel to both of us, but at least we have each other now.
Soon, Alaric will be part of our little family. Then, one day, Hope will find her person.
Everything will be fine.
“I love you, Lil,” she says when she’s done crying, and we start walking again.
“Love you too, Hope.”
Bzz.
Bzz.
My phone vibrates in my jeans pocket.
Confusion has my eyebrows knitting together.
Hope is the only person who ever texts me, and she’s right here beside me.
Just as my hand closes around the phone, that strange, heavy feeling surges back at full force. Air catches in my throat at the sudden intensity.
Not wanting to scare Hope, I let out a slow breath and pretend everything’s fine as I unlock my phone. Once I read the message, we’ll hightail it home.
The moment I see who sent me the text, I realize I got worked up over nothing.
The corner of my lips tics up as I read it.
Alaric: You really thought I’d let you walk home by yourself, little devil? That I could spend another day without you?
Alaric: Call Hope an Uber and stay put. Don’t make me ask twice.
A whirlwind of emotions and questions sweeps through me.
I want him. I need him. I’m so wet my panties are drenched.
And my heart, how it races.
But what about Harold?
Then again, God, it’s only taken him a few words, and I’m spiraling.
What do I do?
“Who’s that?” As soon as she notices how red my face must be, her lips round in the shape of an ‘O’. “Oh. Oh.”
Approval shines in her eyes, something that wasn’t there earlier today.
It wasn’t easy to reassure her that Alaric had his reasons for staying away. That he wasn’t a fuckboy, simply a busy trauma attending. And a kidnapper who’s spent years alone and is probably trying to protect me.
That last part, obviously, is a secret.
“Yes, it’s him,” I whisper, looking over my shoulder and kicking myself for not pinning that feeling earlier.
No one but him possesses this kind of dark, consuming, and commanding energy.
“You need me to clear the apartment for a few hours?”
Bzz.
Alaric: Last warning. Get Hope an Uber.
His warning lands straight in my belly, sending sweet, torturous warmth everywhere.
“No, he told me to wait for him here.” I jerk my chin toward our building, a little farther down the block. “Go home. I’ll be okay, promise.”
She nods, and despite the cold, I stuff my hoodie into my backpack and hand it over to her.
Alaric can’t find out I have his boxers. Not yet.
The moment Hope steps into the lobby, a hand wraps around my throat. “There you are.”
His body presses into mine from behind, his hard parts melding into my soft ones.
Goosebumps race across my skin as his lips brush my ear. My throat locks.
“You know what you get for being a good girl?” Alaric’s other hand clamps over my mouth to swallow my moan, and he yanks me back, back, back toward an alley.
“My lips and teeth on every inch of you. My cock buried in that hot little pussy. So many fucking orgasms. I can’t wait anymore. You’re mine, Lilith. Mine.”