Page 28 of Creeping Lily

JUSTIN

L ily’s in my arms the second I step through the door, like she’s been holding her breath and can finally exhale.

Her arms loop around my neck, tight and desperate, and the sound she makes—half sigh, half release—warms the air between us.

I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, quick and uneven, and I don’t realize how much I’ve missed that sound until it’s there.

Then she notices Trick behind me. The relief in her face flickers into something sharper—hesitation, maybe guilt.

His jaw is locked tight, lips pressed into a grim line as his eyes cut between us, searching for answers I’m not about to give him.

Whatever he’s imagining, he can keep imagining it.

We’ve got bigger problems than his jealousy right now.

“God, the room reeks,” Marshall mutters as he ambles in, nose wrinkling.

His shirt is half-tucked, half-hanging, like he got dressed in a rush—or didn’t bother.

I smirk but keep my mouth shut. The guy’s a walking bad decision.

Odds are, we just ruined his night with someone who isn’t supposed to be on campus.

Kade leans casually in the doorway, one of ours posted beside him like a shadow. “So, what’s the go?” His voice is calm, but his eyes are already sweeping the room, cataloging details.

Lily loosens her grip, her warmth leaving my skin all at once.

She rocks back on her heels, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks as every set of eyes shifts to her.

I can almost hear the thoughts running through her head—this must look like overkill, like we’ve brought in the cavalry for nothing.

But when it comes to her, nothing is “nothing.”

“There.” Bethany’s voice is sharp as she points toward the desk in the corner.

Lily’s desk. Always neat, always hers. Now it’s the scene of a message no one should ignore.

A single red rose rests on top of a worn paperback, its petals dark and velvety against the book’s faded cover.

It’s beautiful in the way a blade can be beautiful—perfect, deliberate, dangerous.

And beneath it all, the scent. Sandalwood and oud, thick and expensive, wrapping the air like smoke.

I know that smell. Not many people drop thousands on a single bottle of cologne.

Whoever it is has serious money to burn.

“Did you let security know?” Trick asks, not looking at me, his eyes flicking to Bethany instead.

“Lily didn’t want to,” she says.

At that, he turns toward Lily, but he doesn’t really see her. “Why not?”

“I don’t want this to be a big deal.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Trick…” My voice is a warning. His head snaps toward me, and the contempt in his eyes is thick enough to choke on.

He still hasn’t gotten over whatever narrative he’s built in his head about me and Lily.

I tried to push them together, give him a chance, but if she’s not into him, that’s his problem, not mine.

The muscle in his jaw twitches, his temple ticking like a countdown. I let out a slow breath. If he’s going to bring this energy, better he unloads it on me than in front of her .

“Outside,” I tell him, jerking my chin toward the hallway.

“Justin…” Bethany’s voice trails after me, but I brush past her.

Trick hesitates, but I keep moving. One way or another, this conversation is happening tonight.

This isn’t how I pictured it.

We barely make it into the courtyard before I spin to face Trick—only for his fist to crash into my jaw.

The hit is fast, hard, and sharp enough to rattle my teeth. My head jerks sideways, vision flashing white at the edges. I taste copper and shock all at once.

“The fuck, man?” My voice is tight, more from disbelief than pain.

“Did you fuck her?” he spits, his face twisted, eyes wild.

Before I can answer, he takes another swing. This time I sidestep, boots scraping the cobblestones, and his knuckles cut through empty air.

Kade’s on him in an instant, hauling him back, pinning his wrists behind him. His gaze flicks from me to Trick, the storm in his eyes promising this won’t end quietly.

“Will you calm the fuck down?” I snap, forcing my voice low. I don’t want Lily hearing this—not the words, not the rage.

“Did. You. Fuck. Her?”

His tone is pure venom, every syllable thrown like a knife. There’s no reasoning with him—short of putting him in the ground, nothing’s going to take that fire out of his eyes.

Then Marshall barrels out of the building, charging straight into Trick’s chest and shoving him back a good few feet. Trick stumbles, boots scraping on stone, before catching his balance .

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marshall barks, his voice echoing off the courtyard walls.

Trick’s already coming back for more, slamming into Marshall’s bulk like a wave against a cliff. Marshall plants his feet, not giving an inch.

“Ask him what’s going on between them!” Trick’s voice is raw, cracking with the kind of jealousy that bleeds through skin.

“This isn’t the time or place,” Kade says, stepping in closer, his tone hard.

Marshall lifts a hand, palm out in warning, his eyes darting up to the Juliet balcony. “First off—lower your damn voice,” he says, the words edged with steel. “Second—what’s your problem?”

“I told you!” Trick shouts, pointing a shaking hand at me. “He’s had eyes on Lily this whole time. He knew I was into her. He shouldn’t have gone there!”

“There’s nothing going on between us,” I say, steady but cold.

“LIAR!” he roars, breaking free just enough to lunge. Marshall and Kade slam him back again, their grips digging in to hold him still.

Marshall stares at him like he’s lost his mind. “So, let me get this straight—you’re going after your best friend because you think Lily has feelings for him?”

Trick nods once, jaw locked, eyes burning into me like he wants to carve his truth into my skin. I’ve seen him angry before—but never like this. This isn’t a spark; it’s an inferno.

I take a step forward, my own temper flaring hot. “How the hell can you force her to want you, Trick? You’re trying to do the same thing to her that Wendolyn’s doing to you. She can’t make you love her—so why the fuck do you think you can make Lily love you?”

“You never gave us a chance!” he snaps back.

“Don’t be obtuse, Patrick!” Bethany’s voice rings down from the balcony above, sharp and furious. “He kept throwing you at Lily. Over and over. So did I. So did everyone. And now you’ve ruined everything.”

“He ruined it,” Trick bites out, his words shaking. “He made himself the center of her world and took that chance away from me.”

“No,” Bethany fires back, her voice breaking. “You destroyed it yourself—just like you’re doing now. What do you think this is going to do? You’re only driving her further away!”

Her face is blotchy with anger, eyes wet. She’s trembling so hard I think she might climb out of the window and drop into the courtyard just to get at him. Tears streak down her cheeks as she throws one last curse over her shoulder.

Then she spins out of sight, the slam of the window behind her echoing like a gavel.

I take the stairs two at a time, ignoring Trick’s curses echoing up behind me like gnats I refuse to swat. My boots hit each step hard enough to make the railing vibrate.

“Get him out of here,” I mutter over my shoulder to Marshall, who’s trying to match my pace with those long legs of his.

“Already on it.” He tips his chin toward the guy waiting by the door. One quick nod, and the message is clear—no words needed. A moment later, the door closes behind me, and I know Kade and our man will see Trick escorted out into the courtyard and straight off the property.

The door to the girls’ room is ajar.

I push it open and pause in the doorway. The air inside is thick with the smell of salt and grief.

Lily is curled on the bed, knees drawn tight against her chest, her face hidden behind a curtain of hair.

Her shoulders shake with quiet sobs. Bethany sits beside her, one arm around her friend, but even as she tries to comfort her, tears streak her own cheeks.

The sight punches something raw in my chest—hard enough that I almost back out like Marshall just did, giving them privacy.

But I’m not that noble. Not when it comes to my sister and her best friend.

That’s when I notice the duffel bag. It’s half-open on the bed, a shirt spilling over the edge like it tried to escape before she did. Lily was packing. She was leaving. Whatever broke her happened mid-motion—her hands still half in the act of walking away.

I’ve never seen her like this. And Bethany? My sister doesn’t cry. Not for anyone. Not until Lily.

Bethany’s never been the type to care deeply—our upbringing burned that out of her early.

Our mother is, to put it bluntly, a narcissist, and she raised Bethany to think the world revolved solely around her.

But then came Lily—the small-town girl who’d never tasted a waffle, who’d never been away from home for more than a week, who turned red at the sound of a swear word.

Somehow, she cracked Bethany’s shell wide open.

“Bethany?” My voice is low, but it still makes her flinch.

“Lily wants to leave,” she says, almost in a whisper.

My chest tightens until it hurts.

Lily lifts her face toward me, and when our eyes lock, there’s a quiet, unspoken truth between us: she was never meant for this world. Not this campus, not the undercurrent of violence we swim in daily.

“I don’t know how to exist in this playground,” she says.

Her voice is soft, raw, the words pulled from somewhere deep.

Her eyes are red and swollen, her expression twisted with self-disgust. She hates admitting weakness, hates breathing it into the air.

But to me, what she calls weakness is the strongest thing about her.

She’s pure in a way that feels almost dangerous—soft, clean, untarnished.

A rare gem in a place full of sharp edges and rust. The kind of beauty people spend their whole lives chasing and never find.

Even like this, with her face blotchy and her lips trembling, she’s breathtaking.

Watching her cry feels like someone’s dragging a blade across my chest—slow, deliberate, leaving a wound that won’t close.

Bethany moves to stand by the window, her arms crossed tight over her chest. She looks like a guard dog—fierce, protective. And I realize I like this version of my sister more than any other I’ve known. Lily has done that. Lily has given me a sister I can be proud of.

“I’m sorry,” Lily whispers, glancing at Bethany. Her voice cracks on the words, guilt dripping from every syllable.

“Lily…” Bethany starts, then stops, arms falling helplessly to her sides. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“It’s too much,” Lily says, her voice barely carrying across the room. “There’s too much pain.”

Bethany and I have talked about this before—Lily has secrets. You don’t carry that much damage without a history. But neither of us has pushed her for answers. Whatever ghosts she’s been living with, today has dragged them into the light.

“I can’t do this without you, Lily. I know I said I’d try, but I can’t.”

Bethany’s voice wavers, pleading. I’ve never seen her so close to breaking.

“Trick won’t bother you again,” I tell Lily. “You have my word.”

Her eyes glass over. “He’ll always be here. The reminder. He hates me.”

Bethany shakes her head. “He doesn’t hate you. If anything, he loves you too hard. Trick doesn’t do half-measures—it’s all or nothing. And unfortunately, he fell for you. Hard.”

“I can’t undo that,” she says, her voice breaking completely.

“You don’t have to,” Bethany replies, firm. “I’ll make sure he leaves you alone.”

And so will I. One way or another. I won’t let him set off another storm like this. She has three more years here. I won’t have them poisoned by today.

But as my eyes drift toward the desk—the rose lying there like a bloodstain against the wood—my mind snags on an uncomfortable thought. Trick might be obsessed, but that scent lingering in the air… it’s not his. It’s expensive, rare, the kind of fragrance you remember once it’s burned into you.

And right now, it’s twisting in the breeze through the open window. Whoever left that rose isn’t Trick. Which means Lily’s problems just got a hell of a lot bigger.