Chapter 33 - Lily
Lily
Dean tumbled into our room. “There you are.” He locked the door and pulled me into his arms.
I kissed him and rested my head on his broad chest, so he took my weight. The day’s stress and my growing doubts faded as his warmth enveloped me. “I have news.”
“So do I. You go first,” he said.
Dean’s title changed from stranger to kidnapper to fake husband. In his arms, that last one felt incredibly real. I giggled.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“We’re standing in a real estate office.”
He hummed. “I don’t get it.”
“We left my apartment over a month ago,” I said.
“That long?”
“Yes, and now we’re in the middle of a real estate office with barely enough to eat and an uncertain future ahead.” It sounded hopeless, though in Dean’s arms, it wasn’t. “We’ve withstood so much. This spot, with you, is exactly where I want to be because the future can’t scare me.”
If we were together, we’d survive, whether here in Deer Lake or some place else.
“Same,” he said. Dean’s throat bobbed as his mouth opened and closed. “With you. That’s all that matters to me. Just you.”
Tears threatened. We’d lost an entire year.
I tried not to dwell on that or Dean’s reasons for leaving his note on my pillow.
They no longer mattered. He did it in the old world; we lived in the new one.
Our future, as hazy and tenuous as it was, mattered, not my fading bitterness over the past. “That’s what I wanted to say. It’s your turn.”
His embrace tightened, and I relaxed into the deep timbre of his voice.
Dean held me against him as he shared his afternoon with Weston. “I trapped some rabbits for Weston and his family. Told him not to get caught. Hunting is outlawed, so I’ll do it again.”
“We should help him,” I said without knowing how. Nothing I’d witnessed in Deer Lake suggested the missing father would be welcomed. “We should find them a new place to live.”
“Where? It’s worse than you remember, Lily. Go east, and the earthquake damage gets worse. North, and I don’t know what the winter would do. They might not survive it on their own.”
“We should try. You know it’s the right thing to do.”
“You’re right, and yet,” he started. Dean’s eyes blazed. “If I found a place, I’m more likely to take you than them.”
“Why not both?” I joked.
“Don’t tease me, Lily. I don’t respond well.” His arms stiffened, forcing me close rather than the indulgent embrace of a moment ago. “I will take you from here if you provoke me enough. Maybe I’ll do it now.”
“You aren’t as frightening as you used to be. You also promised.”
“Used to be? Lily, I’ve never tried. That part of me isn’t for you.
” His features hardened into an expression he’d never directed at me before.
Cruel and uncaring, stone eyes and a ravenous mouth.
Pain gave this stranger joy. I swallowed and pushed him.
“Not today. Not for you.” His eyes softened into the familiar ones I loved.
“Right now, let me think about what to do for them.”
“A hiding place somewhere.”
“Maybe. I’ll continue to look after the boy no matter what.” He lifted a shoulder. “Tell me more about your day,” he said.
Dean would kill Julian if he knew about his offer, and it wasn’t like Julian proposed marriage or propositioned me. Plus, my father promised we’d speak more after he returned.
My father cared for Deer Lake and for me, but did he hold the same space for Dean?
Any permanent reconciliation had to come from their actions, not mine, and achieving that required a private conversation between them without my interference; otherwise, Dean wouldn’t believe my father, further widening their rift.
“There’s a town meeting tomorrow,” I said.
Dean rubbed his face. “Why?” he asked, drawing out the word.
“I wish I knew.”
His expression hardened. Dean’s dark eyes shone with judgment towards Deer Lake and all its residents. “Suspicious timing,” he said and stepped back.
“That’s what I said.”
“We’re missing something. Your dad isn’t here, and I leave the day after. That stinks worse than the swamp water I slept beside.”
“What for, do you think? The sheriff and my dad promised nothing would happen because of Zeke Smythe. Even Julian said that.”
“Julian Gustafson is a weak snake who runs to his uncle whenever he gets into trouble. Besides, it’s the sheriff calling the meeting.”
I didn’t respond, unsure what to say. If anything, his vehement response confirmed my silence. “They’re planning something.”
“The rules here are harsh, not shocking. I’ve seen what happens in war zones.” Dean closed his eyes, shaking his head at the images inside. “Something is wrong. That grocery store. Why so many men?”
“Wouldn’t you keep security guards in the place where we store our food?”
“That’s the problem,” he insisted.
I waited for him to explain, and instead, Dean wrapped his arms around me once more.
“We could leave right now,” he said.
I’d grown closer to Dean’s position as the days passed, independent of his judgment. The harsh rules worried me, and my father’s singular focus on outcomes worried me more. It fueled the cruel indifference I’d witnessed, like Rose’s skittishness and Weston’s abuse.
We’d leave if circumstances demanded. I’d drag him from Deer Lake if his life were in danger. But saying it out loud? I wasn’t ready to confront the possibility.
“I thought you’d offer to take me to bed,” I said. Like Dean once protected me, I’d do the same for him.
“Oh, I like that idea.” Dean’s smile turned sinful.
His lips grazed mine, testing my interest. My hands crept under his shirt and crawled up his chest.
“We could stay here tonight,” I said.
“You’re a genius. That’s why I married you.”
I swallowed a response as his lips returned to mine, and our kiss deepened. Outside was our wet hell, but in here, it was my heaven.
He removed his shirt as someone knocked on the door, ending our kiss.