Chapter 17 - Lily
Lily
Goosebumps covered my bare flesh. I rubbed my arms to smooth their short hairs back down.
“Dean?” My voice quivered, so I cleared it and tried again. “Dean. What do we do?”
He covered my mouth and shook his head before releasing me to cover his own. I pointed to the nearest window, hoping it led to our escape. Leave before the intruders detect our presence. Dean pointed at the ground, refusing.
I closed my eyes. Running away naked in the rain, without supplies or car keys, was foolhardy at best.
Whoever invaded our new home wandered through the kitchen and into the living room.
“Someone was here. The fire is still burning. They slept here,” a man said.
Dean moved closer to the door, placing his ear against it.
A second voice joined the conversation. “Check out that truck. Looks familiar, don’t it?”
The first man spoke again. “They might still be here.”
Tension rippled through Dean’s body. His shoulders rolled back as he took his ear off the door.
I covered my naked body with my arms to shield it from whatever waited on the other side of that door. The pathetic armor wouldn’t accomplish much, but it was all I had.
Dean stood straight and unafraid as he listened and plotted our next steps. He turned his back to me, raised a hand, and lifted four fingers.
Four men.
My stomach dropped. I searched for a weapon, hoping for a candlestick or a baseball bat. Dean had experience, but I wouldn’t wait on the sidelines while he took care of me.
Dean stole his shotgun from four men yesterday, and I recognized one of their voices.
His tense body showed off the thick muscles on his back and the strength in his arms. He took a noiseless step closer to the bed where he’d dropped his knife and shotgun during our frantic run to the guest room.
“Danny, Tommy, search the house. Find out if we have visitors hiding somewhere. Take their car keys and kill him if you find him.”
I bit my lip and raised a questioning arm. Dean smiled and motioned me to the ugly wooden dresser. He wanted me to hide out of his way. I shook my head, refusing. He rolled his eyes.
Dean ignored his two weapons, grabbed a belt on the dresser, and staked a spot by the closed door.
Two muffled gaits moved past us, one upstairs to the main bedroom. The second, softer and slower, went to the exercise room. A door slammed open.
Last night, Dean closed every door before we ate dinner. Was that a habit or anticipation?
The two remaining men settled in the living room to enjoy our fire. I didn’t get it. After Dean stole their only weapon with such ease, wouldn’t they come at us all at once? They should consider him a risk.
Unless the shotgun hadn’t been their only weapon. I took in Dean’s tense body with fresh eyes. He’d reached the same conclusion.
The doorknob turned, and a man entered. I covered my breasts again, knowing it was too late. He licked his lips, gaping with shock and something worse.
My body heaved. I leaned forward, shrinking inward, terrified of my vulnerability. Bare for all to see.
“I want my gun back.” He’d been the one who pointed a weapon at Dean.
Dean moved, wrapping the belt around our attacker’s neck. He squeezed, sucking the life from the man who gurgled and grasped at the leather strip. Dean’s shoulders and torso flexed and twisted as he dragged the man to the bed and pushed him down.
“You shouldn’t have looked at her. I made it hurt because of that,” Dean said and released the belt before turning the body over.
“Danny, what’s going on?” The father called out.
The door hung open. He’d find us any second, and I didn’t have my clothes.
Dean grabbed the ugly black shotgun and left the room. I tiptoed toward the doorway, unsure of what to do next.
“Where is my son?”
A boom sounded, echoing and rattling through the house. Heavy footsteps started down the stairs.
“Dad!”
Another shot.
I shook myself and picked up a vase filled with dead plants on the dresser. Dean deserved to know that someone cared, and I refused to spend my life allowing others to fight my battles.
I bolted to the living room and found Dean on the ground with the last man straddling him.
Dirt and plant matter fell from the vase as I ran up behind them. Screaming, I lifted it, slamming the vase over the man’s head. He jerked and swayed from the shock.
I hit him again, and his body drooped. Dean shoved him onto the floor.
Was he dead? Years ago, Ryan told me to keep hitting. Don’t ever stop, so I didn’t, slamming the vase on his temple a third time and a fourth until my legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor with an ugly sob.
My arms moved because I had to keep going. I tried hitting him again, but my strength fled until the final blow glanced off the body, and the vase fell from my grasp.
What happened?
“It’s over. You’re safe. We’re safe. It’s over. Lily, do you hear me?” Dean picked me up, dropping me into his lap, twisting so I couldn’t see the dead bodies behind us. “The last man jumped me from behind. You saved me, Lily.”
I did?
I held his face, inspecting him for any injuries. “You have blood on you. On your face.” My voice shook.
Dean licked his upper lip, pulling a drop into his mouth. “It’s not mine.”
“Are there any more?” I struggled to breathe.
“That’s it. There’s only us.” Dean wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, and took slow, deliberate breaths. “Put your hand on my chest. Feel my heartbeat? Slow yours to match mine. Even breaths. Slow. In and out.”
I concentrated on his heart’s steady thump. Its vibrations traveled up my arm and through my body. How could he be so calm?
“We killed four people. I killed someone, Dean.”
“They would have done the same to us.”
I told myself that my actions had saved him. That he was correct didn’t change the truth. I killed someone.
“Is this what our life is now?”
“Our life…” Dean huffed and took several deep breaths of his own. “I’ll be there to protect you, no matter what.”
I didn’t respond.
We sat there without our clothes, with me on his lap. Neither of us spoke for a long time.
As the shock wore off and my arms regained strength, we dressed in clean clothes and packed up our meager belongings.
What else would this day bring?