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I WOKE TO THE GOLDEN hour, and I don't only mean because the sunshine was shining through the window, deeply golden and beautiful in the late afternoon.
I mean it was. Golden and beautiful and late in the afternoon. So technically, yes.
But it was also the fact that I was waking up with Lily in my arms, her face turned into my chest and her breathing slow and relaxed. She moved a bit, trying to get even closer to me, and I wondered if she'd somehow sensed that I was awake and starting to think about getting up. She nuzzled into my skin as if she could keep me there forever, and I closed my eyes and drank it in. Lily in my arms, safe and sound and happy. The two of us together and stronger than we had been before.
Both of us standing shoulder to shoulder against whatever—or whoever—might come our way.
It was something I'd never really experienced before. Sure, I'd been in the military with the men in my company, and we'd been as loyal to each other as any human beings could be. We'd fought tooth and nail to keep each other safe and out of trouble, and I'd never questioned their commitment to me getting to keep my life.
But the deep, abiding affection I got from Lily and the driving need—almost an obsession—that I felt to keep her safe and warm?
Yeah, those were totally new to me.
Because a kid who grew up without a family—or with a family who flat-out couldn't be bothered with him and took every opportunity to tell him so—didn't get to have that connection with the people who should have been taking care of him. He didn't get to know that his mother would always be around if he needed her or that he had siblings who would have his back when the bullies at school took exception to him. He didn't have a dad who would sit down with his family at the end of the day and teach them how to go out there into the world and succeed.
He didn't have grandparents who hugged him and snuck him candy behind his parents' backs.
He didn't have anyone hugging him at all.
He had fists and blood and pain until he got old enough to know how to hide from it, and then until he got big enough to fight back. And then he had that countdown until he was eighteen, when he knew he was going to be able to get away from it all and never, ever look back.
I hugged Lily even closer to me, trying to memorize the feel of her in my arms. The warmth of her skin, the faint smell of flowers coming off of her. The sensation of being allowed to hold someone so close and try to take care of them—and the realization that she'd take care of me too, if I let her.
If I let her.
That was the sticking point. I'd grown up with a family who didn't understand affection or commitment, and though I'd known enough to realize that was the wrong way to be, I also knew enough to know that it had affected the way I learned to interact with other people. I'd never learned true affection or love, and no matter how much I wanted to be able to experience those things, I was smart enough to realize that I might not have the right pieces in place to do it.
I might literally not have the training for love.
For either giving or receiving it.
So when someone like Lily was lying here, all vulnerable softness and open affection, I wanted to take it all in. Wanted to drink her up like the best cup of cocoa I'd ever had, take her in my hands and put her in my pocket to keep her with me for the rest of my life.
I never wanted to stop feeling the security and warmth she gave me.
And I didn't know if I'd be able to do it. Because I wasn't sure I was good enough at loving to give her what she deserved.
And just as I had that thought—which wasn't, I hoped, the conclusion—I realized that the problem with having Lily so close to me was that her hair just wouldn't behave itself. Right now, for instance, it was lying across my face and making its way right up my nose.
The moment I had the thought, my body reacted like it had just been attacked. I twitched away from the tickling sensation, dislodging Lily in the process, and scooted sideways before I could stop myself. Lily came awake in a moment, all big eyes and messy hair, and jumped up as well, like she thought something was wrong.
“What happened?” she gasped, looking around. “What is it?”
When I saw her there looking so panicked, her hair sticking up and her face creased from sleeping, I started laughing. I couldn't help it. She looked so upset, and I'd jumped just because her hair had tickled my face when I wasn't expecting it.
It was ridiculous.
She glared at me. “Why are you laughing? Is it me? Was I drooling or something?”
This made me laugh even harder.
Lily's scowl deepened, and she picked up one of the pillows, holding it threateningly in my direction. “Are you laughing at me? Because I have a pillow here and I'm not afraid to use it.”
“Not you,” I wheezed, dropping to the bed. “Laughing at myself.”
“Why?”
“It was... It was your hair,” I gasped. “I was lying here thinking and suddenly your hair tried to crawl up my nose and I jerked and—and—”
I couldn't finish. The combination of the affection and love I felt for her, along with the relief of having slept and the safety of having her with me, was reacting like too much champagne in my belly. I felt lighter than I had in years, and it was bubbling out of me in laughter that was definitely unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.
Lily watched me suspiciously for a moment, thinking, no doubt, that I'd lost my mind. And then she cracked a smile. And before long, she was laughing with me, dropping onto the bed and snorting at me being frightened of her hair and how it wasn't that bad after a nap—which sent us both off again, our laughter echoing through her mother's room in the house where I now lived.
***
LILY SHUT THE REFRIGERATOR door firmly. “Well, there's not much left in there. It's been ages since we've gone to the grocery store.”
I glanced from the pots and pans on the stove back toward her, thinking. We'd been planning to cook dinner and have a romantic evening at home, but that was going to be hard without groceries.
“Don't worry,” she said, catching my glance. “I'll run to the market and get something. I'll be back in half an hour.”
She walked toward me, looking like her mind had already left the house, but I stopped her. “No, I'll go. I don't want you going out there alone in the dark.”
“Warren, this is my hometown,” she scoffed. “I think I can handle it. Even in the dark.”
“And what are you going to do if you run into Tony McCarthy?” I asked. “Do I need to remind you that someone left a dead squirrel on your doorstep two days ago?”
She caught her lip in her teeth, and I watched as she remembered not only the squirrel but also the man we thought had put it there. No, we didn't have any proof that it had been Tony McCarthy, but I also didn't think either of us doubted it. She didn't have any other enemies in town, and no one but an enemy—or a psychotic ex-boyfriend-turned-stalker—would do something like that. People didn't exactly keep dead squirrels in their pockets so they could leave them as friendly gifts for the neighbors.
“You know I'm right,” I said quietly, reaching out to take the keys from her.
She held them back, though. “I also know that I'm not going to let him scare me into changing my life. I know I'm not going to stop living just because some asshole has a sick sense of humor. I'm not going to let him win, Warren.”
Okay, there was that.
“It's easy to stay home and hide, but I'm not going to show him any weakness, and I'm not giving in to his bullying,” she continued. “I don't want him thinking he scared me. I want him thinking that I don't give a single damn about him.”
There was also that.
“Fine,” I said, giving in. “But you're taking Silver with you.”
The dog bounded into the room as if she'd been waiting to hear her name, and Lily leaned down and scratched her ears.
“What about it, girl? You want to go for a car ride? Evidently you're the price I have to pay to leave the house alone.”
She looked up and gave me a quick grin, letting me know she wasn't serious, but I didn't return it. She could joke all she wanted to—hell, maybe she had to, just to make herself feel more confident about going out there—but I didn't think this was a laughing matter. I'd heard about what Tony did to her when they were together, and I'd seen the long looks that passed between Lily and her mom when they talked about the car accident Diane had been in. I knew that Mark McCarthy had paid Lily to get out of town and told her not to come back.
I knew that he'd threatened her that if she did, she'd be sorry.
It didn't take much to put it all together to form a complete picture: Tony was an abusive man who hit the girls he was supposed to take care of, and his father not only condoned it, but also covered for him when he got caught. They'd paid off law enforcement and probably had an army of lawyers at their beck and call to get them out of trouble. They didn't believe in obeying the laws, and they sure as hell didn't believe in letting other people live if they decided they didn't like them.
By coming home to take care of her mother, Lily had planted herself right in their crosshairs, and as far as I was concerned, that was a problem.
But I didn't think I could force her to stay home and hide. She was too busy proving to Tony how much she wasn't scared of him.
And I sort of loved that about her.
Even while I was grinding my teeth at the thought of her putting herself out there, where I wouldn't be able to protect her.
I kissed her soundly and told her to be careful, then slapped her playfully on the butt when she left. And as I watched her get into her VW bus—the windshield now repaired—and back out of the driveway, I realized that maybe there was something I could do to protect her.
Because Lily might not want to confront Tony personally. She might still go all shaky and nervous whenever he was in the vicinity. But I didn't have that problem, and I knew exactly where Tony lived.
Maybe it was time Tony and I had a little conversation, man to man.
Maybe it was time for me to lay down the law and make sure he knew exactly what he was—and wasn't—allowed to do when it came to my girlfriend.
