Chapter 24 – Lily
LILY
“Here you are, dear,” Dahlia says, setting milkshakes before Aster and me.
“Thanks,” I tell her, then take a long sip of the delicious chocolate beverage.
“Any luck on scheduling our first official date?” Aster asks with a lazy smile that’s so hard to resist. I still don’t trust him entirely. He’s got demons. I’m just unsure if those demons scare me as much as they should. If they scare me at all. Am I brave or stupid? The jury’s still out.
“Not yet.” Still racking my brain for a solution to that issue.
“Well, if you’re having a run-in with Jude, I should come with you,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I appreciate the offer, but it would be best if I go alone.”
He scrunches his face in disbelief. “Why?”
“As I believe I’ve proven tonight, I can handle things on my own just fine.”
“Never said you couldn’t. But it doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes.”
“We’re trying to get an invite to another event. And given you said, and I quote, ‘Jude Westerfuck actually hated me,’ don’t you think we have a better shot if I go by myself and appear… available?”
“We don’t even need to speak.”
“Oh, Grim baby.” I grab the maraschino cherry from the top of the whipped cream and dangle it before my lips. “Talk dirty to me.” His eyes hold mine as I place the sweet fruit in my mouth, using my teeth to pluck it off the stem with a wink.
His cheeks redden, jaw hardening, and I pretend to ignore the move when his hand disappears under the table, assumedly to rub against the front of his jeans. Making quick work with my tongue, I tie the stem, then jut the finished product out, gripping it between with my teeth.
He grits his jaw, eyes dropping to my mouth, then closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opens them again, he smiles, glances at his phone, then turns and waves at Dahlia before returning his attention to me.
“What are you doing?” I mumble, spitting out the stem. Very demure. Very sexy.
“Getting more cherries.”
I snort a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m not.” He grins, folding his hands on the table. “Actually, it’s after midnight.”
“Do you have a curfew or something?”
“No.” He shakes his head, joy radiating through his features. What is up with him? “Happy birthday, Lily.”
“What are you—” I cut myself off. With everything going on, how the hell did he remember my own birthday but I didn’t? Wait. “How do you know my birthday?”
His brows pull together. “Really? That’s such a surprise.”
“No, but—”
“Happy birthday to you!” I glance over to see Dahlia and another waitress heading our way, slice of pie in hand with a single lit candle. “Happy birthday to you!”
The unmistakable cringeworthy song echoes throughout the entire diner, and my eyes widen at Aster. “You didn’t.”
“Happy birthday, dear Lily,” he joins in as they arrive at the table, singing in unison, and set the plate before me. “Happy birthday to you!”
My cheeks flame, eyes falling to the candle. What would I even wish for? The only thing I truly want is impossible, so I wish for the next best thing. Closing my eyes, I blow out the candles.
I wish for a world where I’m happy.
When I open them, Dahlia and the waitress share their congratulations, then saunter away. A perfect slice of peanut butter pie sits before me. My favorite. My attention returns to Aster. “You really shouldn’t have.”
“It was nothing.” He grins, grabbing the utensils and handing me one. “Everyone deserves a little treat on their birthday.”
Taking a forkful and putting the delicious dessert in my mouth, I ponder Aster. He’s so different from what I’d expect. He’s tough, dangerous, and ruthless. But he’s also soft, warm, and kind. I fear it may take me a lifetime to figure him out. I fear that’s something I may want.
My phone buzzes, and I glance at it on the table.
Amara
Hey are you busy?
I glance at the time. 12:05 a.m.
Me
Why? What’s up?
Amara
Meet me at Mocha Muse?
Without a moment of hesitation, I type out a resounding:
Me
Be right there
“Do you think it’s a birthday surprise?” Aster asks as we head towards his bike a few minutes later.
“No.” I shake my head. “She doesn’t know when it is.”
He grabs my hand, spinning me around the gravel lot, before tugging me towards him.
“Then I’m glad I got you the pie.” He grips my waist, positioning us in a waltz pose, and sways us.
The hum of the street is our only music.
“It would be a tragedy for you to go the entire day with no one celebrating you.”
“I prefer it that way,” I admit.
“Why?”
I shrug, still unsure how much I’m ready to share with him. Liam’s and my birthday used to always be a big deal. But that was largely due to Violet, who had absolutely no chill about anything. A tinge of sadness twists in my chest. It’s not the same without her.
My phone buzzes again, and I use it as an excuse to break this far too intimate contact and step away, tugging it out.
Amara
How far away are you?
Ten minutes later, Aster’s dropped me off down the block, and I’m rushing to Mocha Muse. As I round the corner, the sound of scraping glass infiltrates my ears, and my eyes fall to shards along the entire sidewalk.
“What the hell?” I mutter to myself, quickening my pace. Every small business on 58th Street has had a window graffitied or shattered. The pottery studio is flooded. The art supply store was ransacked. The front door of the corner bar that hosts open mic nights every week is busted off the hinges.
Once finally before the cafe, I glance in to see Amara sweeping the floor below the front window. “What’s happened?” I ask and she pauses, turning her attention to me.
A sheen of sweat lines her forehead, and her exhausted eyes meet mine. “Probably a group of drunk idiots.” I rush inside, heart thumping. I should have come quicker. “Sorry to bother you. Val is home with Zuri, and I really didn’t want to be here alone.”
“Stop it.” I place a hand on her shoulder, and her eyes meet mine. “Never apologize for asking for help. What are friends for?”
“Thank you, Lil.” She smiles weakly, and I tug her in for a hug, squeezing tightly.
Pulling away, I say, “Did you call the police?”
She glances to the ground. “They won’t be able to do anything.”
“Why not?” I look around at the chaos. Art prints are crooked. There are broken sculptures on the ground. Anger thrums through me. “Liam can come.”
“No.” She rests her hand on mine. “I’ve got it handled.”
“You sure? I’m sure he won’t mind.”
She waves me off. “They were already here earlier.” They were? “There’s no proof, so nothing really for them to go off.”
“Okay…” I say and reach out a hand for the broom. “Well, put me to work. How can I help?”
After a night of cleaning and a morning of making lattes so Amara could head home for some rest, I’m finally walking into my room, prepared for some R&R of my own.
My phone rings, and when I see Unknown on the caller ID, tears nearly prick my vision. What do I really want for my birthday? Some goddamn sleep! They either need to give me answers or leave me the hell alone.
Unfortunately, my morbid curiosity has me accepting the call and bringing the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Happy birthday,” they say, and annoyance courses through me. I’m trying to forget about a day that used to be one of my favorites, so if people could stop reminding me, that would be great.
“Thank you.” It slips out due to Southern ingrained manners when what I really want to say is, Go fuck yourself.
“I left you a present.” My stomach churns as I glance around the room. Last time it was on my bed, but the duvet is empty.
“Where?”
“I tried to scream, but no sound came out,” they say, and my eyes widen at the realization they’re quoting Goosebumps.
I rush over to the bookshelf, scanning for anything out of place.
Dragging my finger against the spines, I check in number order, pausing on the newly placed, mint condition number thirty-two.
Gasping, I pull it off the shelf. “I thought it only fitting that you receive it for your thirty-second birthday.”
I flip the book open and gasp once more at R.L. Stine’s signature, prominent on the first page. “I don’t understand. Why are you giving me this?”
“It’s a peace offering. So you realize we’re on the same side.”
I rub my thumb over the soft cover, mind cloudy. “Or you could just tell me who you are.”
They chuckle. “You know you’ll have much more fun if you figure it out yourself.”
“Fun?! This is supposed to be fun?” I ask, exasperated.
So what if I’ve been more exhilarated in the past two weeks than in my entire life?
This is still insane. And they want me to just…
play along? Nothing about this investigation has been easy, but they did lead me to the Westerford mansion, which has given me more leads than I’ve had in, well, ever.
I still don’t get their motives. Are they the Kodak Killer?
Do they just want them found? Maybe they’d be willing to help?
“You said I’m not asking the right questions the other day…
” I swallow hard, forcing confidence. “As a birthday gift and final peace offering, can you acquire one piece of knowledge for me? And then I’ll know we’re on the same side. ”
Static crackles in the line, and I worry he’s hung up. “What is it?”
“I need to know Jude Westerford’s schedule for the week.”
“Why?”
“You want me to play the game? I’m playing it.” My jaw is tight as I pace the room. “Can you find out or not?”
More static. “Expect to hear from me within forty-eight hours.”