Page 46 of Creeping Lily

TITAN

L ily touching me of her own accord is more dangerous than anything I’ve ever felt and I start to second guess my decision to do this. I’ve been in control up until now, but I’m steadily starting to lose control as she slowly but surely continues to infiltrate my life.

I lean into her touch, and all I want to do is stay this way forever.

Forget what came before and what must inevitably come afterwards.

If only I could erase the ugly truth of what I’m doing here and what I intend to do to her.

But I can’t, and that ugly fact grates on my mind like a heavy weight I cannot rid myself of.

“Tell me what you want.”

Her voice is barely a whisper, but it reeks of desperation. Not the kind of desperation that tells me she wants to get away from me, but the curious kind. She has questions she wants answered, but I don’t know that she truly wants to hear the answers. Not when they’re answers that will ruin her.

My phone rings, putting our little dance on hold as I reach into my pocket.

My eyes never leave hers as I grunt my responses into the device, careful to watch that she doesn’t try anything.

I don’t trust that she won’t try to escape; her eyes tell me that she’s conflicted about being here.

No matter that I’ve rescued her multiple times; any opportunity she sees to escape, she may very well take it.

When I hang up, I lift a hand and glide it slowly over her tresses. There’s nothing I want to do more than to lay down with her and touch every inch of her body. But there’s a time and a place for everything, I realize, and now is not the time nor the place.

My body itches with the promise of release.

The job that just came in is one I can’t pass up.

My bloodlust has been curdling on the back burner for weeks, and the promise of not one but two predators to rid the world of is one I would gladly take up without payment.

Especially considering the heinous crimes these people are guilty of, and my personal stake in their destruction.

It takes me just a split second, or maybe my mind is already made up before I even get off the phone, but what the world really needs right now is a cleaner. A damn good one.

“We have to go.”

I grit my teeth as I say it, and as I watch for her reaction, I can’t help but smile internally at her eye roll. It would seem that Lily Snow is getting rather tired of not getting what she wants.

“Where are we going?” she asks me, and I lift my lips in a menacing smile. I know she can read the expression just as easily as she can my body language.

“I can chain you to the bed,” I start, my eyes wandering toward the disheveled bed she’d occupied only minutes ago. “Or you can come with me and stay in the car like a good little girl while I attend to some business.”

It’s not hard to see which option she will take; her decision is pre-determined. She’ll take possible escape any day over imprisonment. And chained to a bed…well, there’s only one way that would go.

I drive with Lily beside me. My colleagues would probably think me crazy for not tying her up and throwing her in the boot, but I’ve found her weakness.

A weakness I always knew was there, confirmed only by her silence.

Because that’s what happened when I pulled out my gun and cocked it, before I rolled off my terms and conditions of her riding shotgun with me without the aid of handcuffs.

“If you so much as scream…if you try anything…if you even look at me the wrong way, don’t think I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through you.

And if, for any unfortunate reason, I don’t get the chance to do so, I will make sure that your friends meet their maker early.

I’ll start with the lovely Bethany. Then I’ll allow her brother to join her.

And if you’ve made me extra mad, I’ll take great pleasure in filling your local cemetery with the bodies of your mother and grandmother. ”

No doubt she’d wondered how I know of her extended family, but that’s what makes me so good at what I do. She’d gone quiet after that, which had suited me just fine.

She doesn’t say anything until we’re almost halfway through our two-hour drive and she asks me timidly if it’s okay that she put the radio on.

I swing my eyes towards her, watch as the gentle breeze dances through her hair.

She has been such a good girl, just like I knew she would be.

Lily Snow would sell her soul to the devil to protect her loved ones.

“Do it,” I say, turning back toward the road.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand reach out uncertainly until it lands on the dial, and she twists, fiddling with the knob until the screech of static fills the cabin of the car.

She turns down the volume, then continues to twist and turn until she finds something she likes.

I’m surprised at her choice but say nothing as Sex on Fire comes on.

It’s one of my favorites, but never would I have thought she’d be into alt rock.

I keep my eyes on the road as I ask her if she likes the song.

“I can change it if you want,” she replies.

“That’s not what I asked, Lily.”

I feel her eyes on me as she pauses before she whispers her answer.

“It’s a favorite,” she tells me, surprising me again.

“Good. I like that you at least have good taste in music.”

She snorts. She’s bright enough to understand the shot I took at her. Music is one of the few things she may have good taste in, but men definitely is not. Choices, too, leave a lot to be desired. I can’t help the smirk that plays at the edge of my lips.

“How are you able to drive around in a mask all the time?” she asks, and I can tell by her tone that she’s genuinely curious. She’s intrigued.

“Did you not see the tints?” I ask, nodding toward the glass.

“But everywhere. You’re everywhere,” she adds.

“I’m good at what I do.”

Too late, I realize I’ve stepped in it.

Her head turns slowly, her eyes locking on mine like a predator sizing up prey.

The silence stretches—thick, loaded—until it’s almost painful.

Then, without warning, she unleashes. Her voice lashes out like a whip, sharp and searing, every word flung at me with the precision of someone who’s been storing this up for far too long.

The venom in her tone burns hotter than any slap could, and I can feel each syllable sink in, leaving its sting behind.

“And what is it exactly that you do?”

“You remember that deal we made back at the house?” I ask her .

She remembers, all right. I watch her bite her lip, dying inside to continue, but she decides to turn away from me and say nothing more.

It’s me turning to the radio when the strains of Boys of Summer comes on, and as though on auto pilot whenever I hear this song, I flip the volume until the sound is vibrating through the car and my fingers are strumming on the steering wheel.

Lily lowers her window, and I feel the frantic breeze as it envelopes us.

I watch as she throws her arm out to feel the wind, then lays her head back against the headrest, her eyes closed.

Her head dances back and forth as she gets lost in the moment, wordlessly mouthing the lyrics as the song plays.

I don’t know what she’s thinking about, but for a moment I’m transported to a time and place far removed from this moment.

This song holds so much power over me, but for all the wrong reasons.

She startles abruptly when I switch the radio off and turns to me with wide eyes.

“We’re almost there.”

“Where’s there?” she asks.

“Nice try, Lily.”