55. Lily
FIFTY-FIVE
LILY
I’ve finally worked up the courage to visit Derek. I had to borrow Lee’s car, and I told her I was job hunting, not ready to reveal his existence to anyone yet, some part of me still wanting to hold things close to my chest.
Since Chase and Lee don’t have a landline, and I didn’t want to call from their cell phones, I’ve decided to just surprise him and hope that he’s there when I arrive.
But I need to see him, not only because I miss him but also because what Mason did for all those women, the way he brought down his father to bring them justice, has my body craving drugs in a way that it hasn’t in years. It was triggering in a way I didn’t expect it to be. But it also lessened my anger toward him, knowing that while he lied to me, while he broke my heart, my trust in him being a good man was on point.
Bad men don’t bring down pedophiles.
Bad men don’t lift up survivors and help them find their peace.
The thought of driving into the heart of Sweetwater has my nerves severely on edge, jitters racing through my veins like horses, but I know that if I don’t face my fear, it will eventually overwhelm me. I can’t avoid it forever.
Sam and Anna are babysitting Chase, so now is the perfect time.
I’m pulling off the highway and onto the exit ramp when the gas light comes on, so I make a pit stop, my stomach souring when I realize I only have three dollars to put in the tank. Shit. Hopefully it will be enough to get to his place and back home.
My cheeks flush even though there’s no one around to witness the embarrassment, and worry nags at my gut, wondering what I’m going to do for cash. I feel like a freeloader as it is, and I refuse to stay and mooch off Chase and Lee for much longer. Especially since Lee and I haven’t had an honest conversation since the first day I arrived.
Sighing, I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door, glancing up at the pump number before I walk inside. As I reach the door, a tingle shoots up my back, something screaming at me to turn around and go. My steps falter, hair swishing against my face as I look around, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just two other cars, and the butt of a cigarette, still smoking on the sidewalk.
Brushing off the eerie vibes, I make my way inside to pay. There’s no one at the counter, and after a few minutes of waiting, I search for a bell or something to ring.
Does anybody even fucking work here?
Finally, a woman walks to the front, adjusting her red-and-yellow shirt and smiling at me. “Sorry about that. You walked in right at the shift change.”
I grin, the icy chill still lingering at my back.
Paying for the gas, I walk back to Lee’s car, the sound of the beep as I unlock the doors loud in the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I flip around again, scanning the area.
Nothing.
Get it together, Lily.
While the gas pumps, my fingers scratch at my wrist, anxiety eating through my muscles until there’s nothing left but bone. My heart jumps when someone slams their car door.
I don’t like being here.
It was stupid of me to come.
Getting back in the driver’s seat, I glance in the rearview mirror, reaching over and locking the doors when I get that shiver skating up my spine again. What the hell?
I shake it off again and continue to Derek’s. I’m excited to see him, knowing that it will help ground me. He’s never been one to mince words, and he has plenty of experience in talking me off the ledge.
Pulling into Derek’s driveway, I frown, my heart sinking at the fact that his car isn’t here, but I decide to try the keypad, see if it’s still the same as before. I can wait for him inside; I doubt he’ll mind.
Excitement winds around my chest at the thought of surprising him.
Walking to the front door, I grip Lee’s keys tight, the pink pepper-spray holder jostling against the side of my hand.
I try the combination. Beep.
Smiling as the door opens wide, I waltz inside, immediately sighing a breath of relief. This place felt like home when I had no place to call my own.
I walk down the hallway and through the living room, my fingers dusting over the fireplace that houses pictures of Derek and his family through the years. My steps falter, my forehead wrinkling as I come across a framed photo of me, my pregnant belly the size of a watermelon, my head thrown back in laughter. My stomach clenches as I pick up the frame, my finger tracing over my face. I was so broken back then, and somehow, this picture I’ve never seen catches the very moment that I found my purpose. Being a good mother .
The craving for the high fades away, replaced with reinforced steel, this photo reminding me that I will never do to my baby boy what my biological mother did to me. I’m touched the photo is here, and I make a mental note to ask him to send me a copy. I’ll carry it around for whenever I’m feeling weak.
The front door creaks open, and I smile, excited that he got home so fast. I move to place the photo back on the ledge but freeze when I hear a voice behind me.
“Look who it is.”
That same chill from earlier skates up my spine again, wrapping around my middle and robbing the breath from my lungs. I stay locked in place, terrified of moving. Petrified that he’ll walk over and take the photo from my hands, see that Chase exists and try to take him from me. Try to hurt him. My stomach rises and falls like a roller coaster.
I close my eyes, trying to center myself even though everything in me is telling me to run as fast as I can. But I know that won’t work. Now that he’s seen me, I doubt he’ll let me go.
“Darryl,” I say in a shaky voice.
I set the photo facedown, hoping to fucking God that he doesn’t take notice, and spin around slowly, my heart beating in my throat.
His hair is greasy and standing in different directions, the icy-blond tips he used to wear replaced by the dirt brown of his natural color. His face is marred with pockmarks, much worse than when I knew him, and even though he’s the reason behind a majority of my nightmares, I feel a pang of regret, sad that he’s never crawled out of the hole of his drug abuse. Gold metal chains dangle from around his neck, and a red-and-yellow shirt hangs loosely off his frame. The same shirt the lady at the gas station was wearing.
A shift change.
He smiles, the sight sending shivers down my arms and a rolling feeling through my gut.
“Hi, sugar. Long time.” His thumb comes up to rub at his bottom lip, his eyes glazed and unfocused even as he peers at me. It’s very clear that he’s high. “You look good,” he continues, his gaze raking up and down my form, making me feel stripped down and naked under his gaze.
My stomach churns.
He moves closer, his hands tapping against his thigh in a nervous rhythm. “Where ya been, Lily baby? We’ve sure missed you around here.”
My mind races, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what will keep him calm and what will set him off. I force a smile onto my face, resisting the urge to vomit. “I had to leave, Dar. I didn’t want to.”
My eyes track his shaky hand as he pulls a Glock from his back pocket.
My heart stutters, stomach squeezing tight. “But I had to. I was messed up, you know? Had to get my mind right.”
“Hmm.” His eyes bounce between mine, and he rubs his temple with the tip of his gun. “Did it work?”
My smile is so wide, my cheek muscles pull. “Yep. I don’t have a phone, or I would have tried to find you sooner.”
My eyes fall past him to the open front door, and suddenly panic seizes my lungs, hoping like hell that Derek doesn’t come home. I don’t want him in danger because of me.
I slowly start to move toward him, hoping that his high will keep him from realizing what I’m doing. Maybe if I just do it slowly, one step at a time, I can make it. I glance to the entry table where I stupidly left the keys to Lee’s car. With the pepper spray.
“How did you get in, Darryl?”
He grins. “You left the door wide-open for me, baby.” He grabs his junk and thrusts into his hand. “You that desperate to see me again?”
Bile teases the back of my throat as I take another step closer. I’m right in front of him now, my eyes darting from his face to his gun and back. My heart pulses in my neck, my breathing sharp and heavy.
I move to take another step while his eyes are bouncing around the room, but his head snaps toward me and he rushes over, his hand gripping my hair until it feels like I’m being scalped, the barrel of his gun slamming down on the side of my head.
My stomach rolls, dots blurring my vision. Wetness drips down the side of my face, red blots falling on the wood floor off my chin.
“You stupid bitch , you don’t think I see you trying to get away from me? Come over here and have a seat. Let’s catch up.” He shoves me forward by the head, the cut on my temple throbbing, and my stomach rolling like waves in the sea. He throws me down onto the couch cushions and sits next to me, his foot crossing over his opposite knee.
Mason’s voice filters through my mind, whispered words he spoke into my skin flowing through me like a prayer.
Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.
I shove my trembling hands under my thighs, hiding the shakes from his view.
He shifts, pulling something from his pocket, and I squint my eyes, realizing it’s a snuff bottle filled with cocaine. They’re small containers with holes in the top, easy access for when you’re on the go. He puts the bottle up to his nose, his other hand, gun and all, plugging the other nostril as he inhales deeply, snorting up his high.
The muscles in my body stiffen, having drugs so close to me for the first time in years. As strong as my mind has become, I don’t think the physical cravings will ever leave. My eyes flick to the picture frame that’s placed facedown on the fireplace mantel, reminding myself what’s at stake.
I need to play along. I need to do whatever I need to do in order to make it out of here and get back to my son.
“You don’t mind, do you?” He smirks as he sniffs from the snuff container again and then holds it toward me in offering. “You want?”
My jaw clenches, swallowing the saliva that’s pooling in my mouth. My fingernails rip into the couch cushion underneath my legs, holding on for dear life as I try to maintain control over my revolting body. My nerve endings light up, begging for the thing I trained it to need for years.
“Nah.” He cackles, smacking his knee. “I forgot. You got your ‘mind right.’”
My head grows dizzy, and I breathe deep through my nose, hoping to stem the nausea.
He sighs, scratching his head with the butt of his gun and setting the container down on the ground next to him. He leans in, his putrid breath sticking to my skin, making the insides of my stomach curl. “You think you’re too good for me now? Is that it?”
My middle clamps down so hard that bile races up my esophagus. “No, I?—”
Before I can finish the sentence, his gun whips out, cracking me across the face, blood flooding my mouth as I fly off the couch and onto the floor. I swallow the copper taste, my nails digging into the wood, the sharp ache in my jaw sparking a fire that rages through my chest.
I stay hunched on the ground, climbing to my knees and spitting the extra blood from my mouth. “Darryl?—”
He looms over me, his thick boot pressing in the middle of my back until my body collapses on the floor, the pressure of the ground causing a throb to spread through my chest. My heart is staggered in its beating, my mind whirling, praying like hell I’ll make it out of this.
That somehow, this won’t be the end for me.
He reaches down, his fingernails jagged as they slice into the skin of my arm, flipping me over until I’m flat on my back, blood pooling in the back of my throat from the position. He snarls and spits, his thick saliva dropping on my cheek and slowly dribbling down off my chin. I dry heave, turning my head to the side.
“You caused me a lot of fuckin’ problems when you left. And for years I had your family comin’ here, sniffin’ around and askin’ me questions like they had any right to you. Like I didn’t strip you of everything you were and replace it with my brand.” His face is so close to mine, his lips skim against my cheek with each word. “Your shithead brother came to my work and threatened me. Made me tell him where you were. Fucking runnin’ away to Arizona like some ungrateful bitch.”
My eyes widen, shock pouring through me at the fact that he knows where I was. That he knows where the fuck I was .
“You knew?” I manage to rasp out.
He smirks. “Amy.”
My heart stalls in my chest. No . Amy helped me. How could I have been so damn stupid? I never should have trusted her. Did she tell him I was pregnant too?
The thought sends terror pumping through my veins.
He laughs. “Don’t worry. You weren’t worth the trip. But then I see you walk into my gas station, lookin’ the way you do. And well…” He smiles, his teeth chipped and stained. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”
His hand comes down and grasps my jaw, making it crack under the pressure. “You made me look like a fool, leavin’ me after everything I did for you. Didn’t I do enough for you, baby?” He straddles my hips, his knees on either side of my body. He leans in and licks up the side of my face, his fingers tightening on my jaw. I hold my breath to keep from throwing up.
“Didn’t I give you the world?”
I try to nod, but my head is held firm by his grip.
He stands up, pulling my face with him until the top half of my back is suspended from the floor. “Don’t you fuckin’ lie to me.”
He slams me back down, my head bouncing off the ground, my vision blurring. My stomach somersaults and twists, rising into my throat from the blinding pain.
“You think you’re so much goddamn better than me?” His boot flies into my ribs, the force behind his kick knocking the wind from my lungs, a stabbing ache radiating up my side.
With all the force I can muster, I jump up, shoving him off me, a burst of adrenaline fueling my movements.
Clunky and unfocused, I run, my head spinning from the sudden shift in posture. If I could just get to the pepper spray.
But I never make it. A loud crack sounds through the air and I fall back to the ground. The air is silent as I wait for the pain, shock flowing through me as I cup my shoulder, wet liquid seeping through my fingers. I gasp in air, a burn starting in my upper arm and spreading slowly outward, until all I feel is fire ravaging my insides.
I try to hang on. Try to live through the knowledge that I’ve just been shot. That my stupid mistakes have led me here. But I can feel the blackness crawling up my spine and begging to take over, promising me a warm, safe place to hide until it’s over. The way I’ve always known to protect myself.
So I close my eyes and surrender, my last thought of my baby boy, praying he remembers how much I love him.
I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always.