Chapter 8 #2
Something in my face or tone makes him step back and swallow.
I’ve never laid my hands on him, but I’m bigger than he is now and he knows it.
I pull the door shut and start the engine.
Dad is calling me names, telling me I’m heartless, threatening to show up at the house.
The threats hit differently now that Lily’s staying with us.
The thought of them anywhere near her makes my vision go red.
As I pull out of the parking space, Mom pounds on the side of the truck, her face streaked with mascara and tears. “Gage, please! I’m your mother!”
I drive away, but her voice follows me. In my rearview mirror, I watch them both standing in the middle of the parking lot, Dad gesturing wildly while Mom continues to cry.
People are watching it all unfold but no one swoops in to help.
Everyone in Big Ridge knows what they’re about. Everyone knows they’re terrible.
My chest aches as I turn onto the main road, and I have to pull over after a few blocks since my hands are shaking too hard to drive safely.
I cover my mouth with my hand and stare out of the windshield, fighting the urge to break down completely.
I know I shouldn’t bury it down, but it hurts too much.
There’s a burning lump in my throat that I can barely swallow past. The hurt of everything they’ve done threatens to rip my chest open.
Breathing in, I lock it away, blinking hard to clear my vision.
I can’t. I will not cry for them. Not anymore.
The unhealthiest thing to do is to bury it all deep, but I have a shovel and determination.
Three breaths is all it takes to lock away the pain until the only thing left is a hollow cavity where my heart should be.
The wood protectant goes on smooth, each brush stroke methodical and calming.
The garage is quiet except for the low hum of the space heater and ventilation system.
Working with my hands usually makes me feel good.
Calm. Tonight, though, my thoughts keep circling back to the look on my mom’s face when she begged me for money. The way Dad called me selfish.
Fuck them both.
I hear the soft shuffle of movement on concrete and glance up to see Lily standing on the steps that lead to the house, holding a plate full of food. Guilt pricks at my spine. I knew she was making dinner, but I couldn’t bring myself to go inside. Not when I knew I’d be shit company.
She’s wearing an oversized shirt over her pajama shorts, looking like pure fucking temptation. Her red hair is pulled back in a messy bun. Even dressed down, she’s so damn beautiful it makes my chest ache.
Hesitating, she lingers by the door, gaze darting around the space as if she’s not sure if she should be here. I hate that she thinks she needs permission. I hate that I’m still raw and pissed off, probably giving off some ugly energy that’s making her nervous.
She takes a tentative step forward. “The work is beautiful.” Her voice is soft, almost reverent as she studies the table.
I set my brush aside and wipe my hands on a rag. “Did you bring me dinner?”
“Yeah. You never came in and I . . .” She trails off, setting the plate down on my work bench. “I didn’t know if you were hungry or not.”
After the day I’ve had, after the confrontation with my parents, having someone think about whether I’ve eaten feels overwhelming. The kindness of it wraps around me.
“Sorry I missed it,” I murmur, voice rough.
Silence stretches between us, heavy and awkward. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, and everything in me wants to reach out and smooth the skin with my thumb, to take away whatever discomfort she’s feeling. But I’m not sure that touch is all I want.
“Are you okay?” she asks carefully.
For a moment, I consider lying. Telling her I’m fine, that everything’s good. It’s what I usually do—keep the ugly parts of my life locked away where they can’t hurt anyone else. The way she’s watching me, genuine concern in that pretty face, breaks through my defenses.
“No,” I say with a heavy sigh. “I’m not okay.”
Her expression softens. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “Nah.”
She nods like she understands, backing toward the door. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone then.”
Panic claws up my throat at the thought of being alone with my thoughts, with the echo of my parents’ voices calling me selfish and ungrateful.
“Lily.” Her name sounds like a plea.
She pauses with her hand on the door frame. “Yeah?”
“Stay.” I grab the plate she brought me and sink down onto the bench along the wall. “Please.”
“Okay.” She moves toward me slowly, like she’s approaching a wounded animal, and settles beside me. The warmth of her body next to mine is grounding in a way I didn’t expect. When did I start taking so much comfort in her presence?
I take a bite of the lemon chicken, eyeing the broccoli with suspicion. My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten since this morning and I end up eating some of the veggies too.
“Tell me something good,” I say between bites. “Something about your day. Anything.”
She shifts beside me, tucking one leg up under herself.
“Work was okay today. I showed a house. I have this client that’ll earn me a big commission if I land the sale.
I think I’m getting close. Callie texted me, too, and she and the guys are heading home.
She basically demanded I go to the annual lake house Halloween party. ”
“Do you want to?”
“If Aspen and Callie are there, yeah.”
I grin at that, the tension in my chest loosening. Callie, Aspen, and Lily have been friends for as long as I can remember. Lily’s voice is soothing, melodic in a way that makes the ugly voices in my head finally quiet down. I could listen to her read the dictionary and still hang on every word.
“Oh, and I was thinking about this trip my mom and I took to Colorado when I was fifteen.” A smile breaks across her face. “She decided we needed a girls’ weekend and booked this ski trip, even though neither of us had ever skied before.”
“How’d that go?” I take a bite of the potatoes, humming in approval. Rosemary mashed potatoes are my favorite. I’m still not sure about the broccoli, but I eat some anyway.
She giggles, the sound bright and infectious.
“Terribly. I made it maybe fifty feet down the bunny hill before I caught an edge and just . . . rolled. Like, full-on tumbled down the rest of the way. Mom was laughing so hard she fell over too, and we both lay there in the snow, crying from laughing so much.”
The mental image makes me chuckle, and it feels good. Normal. Like I’m not the fucked-up guy whose parents don’t give a shit about him. I finish the food and set the plate aside, turning to really look at her. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“This,” I gesture between us, “is exactly what I needed.” Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this out loud, but I’ve had too much of a messed up day to care. “You make me feel good.”
A shocked look ripples across her face, her lips parting slightly. Hope unfurls in my chest. The way she reacts to me, to Hudson and Cole? That has to mean something. I get to my feet, moving back toward my workbench while she’s stuck processing what I said. “Don’t think too hard about it, Lily.”
Crimson stains her cheeks and that blush makes me want to do bad things.
Her gaze lifts to meet mine, chin tipping up. “Can I stay?”
“You better.” The response comes out automatically, but I mean it more than she’ll ever know.
I catch the pleased grin that spreads across her face, and my chest fills with pride. I vow right then and there to do whatever I can to make her smile like that again.