Page 49 of Creeping Lily

TITAN

I f there’s one song that could sum up everything about Lily and me, it’s this one.

The lyrics aren’t just words—they’re a mirror.

They reflect exactly who we are, what we are, and the twisted place we’ve ended up.

She might not realize it yet, but I’m her creep.

I’m her weirdo. And she’s the only person in this world who truly sees me.

My strides eat up the distance between us. She’s fast, but I’m faster. My legs were built for this chase, and I’m desperate enough to win it. She doesn’t stand a chance.

I reach her in a heartbeat, my hands snapping out to clamp around her waist. She jerks and thrashes, kicking her legs like she’s trying to fight the air itself. Her scream catches in her throat as I lift her clear off the ground, her feet swinging helplessly.

I haul her against my side, locking one arm around her waist like a steel band. She claws and writhes, but I keep moving, dragging her back toward the car without slowing down. Each step pounds like a drumbeat in my ears—mine, hers, and the rhythm of this moment.

By the time I reach the car, the fight drains out of her. Her body softens, sagging against me. No more thrashing. No more defiance. She’s not giving in—not really. She’s just saving her strength.

But to me? She feels like someone who’s finally accepted where she belongs.

“If nothing else, I enjoyed the chase,” I murmur, setting her down by the passenger side. Her feet barely touch the dirt before she bolts—again. Ten steps. That’s all she gets before I’m on her, my hand clamping around her arm and yanking her back. Ten steps too far, if you ask me.

This time, I don’t just catch her—I slam her against the car so hard the metal groans.

My body curves over hers, caging her in.

She hangs her head, breathing hard, her mind already spinning with her next escape plan.

I lean in close, brushing her hair aside so my breath grazes the sensitive skin of her neck.

“How far do you think you’ll get before the coyotes find you, Lily?” I whisper, my voice low enough to curl around her ear like smoke.

“Better them than you,” she spits back, venom laced in every syllable.

If I were a weaker man, her words might have cut deep. Instead, I feel a grin tug at my lips. She’s got fire. And I’ve got all the time in the world to watch it burn.

“You think that now,” I say softly, “but one day you’ll see—I’m the only salvation you’ve got in this world.”

“You think that,” she parrots, turning my words back on me, “but I don’t need saving if you’re the one doing it.”

The sound that rumbles out of me is half chuckle, half growl. She does that to me—pulls something feral and amused out of my chest.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” I tell her, spinning her around until we’re face to face.

My body pins hers against the car, every inch of me a wall she can’t push through.

My hand comes up, thumb and forefinger framing her jaw.

My touch is slow, deliberate—a caress that says exactly what’s on my mind. There’s no mistaking the hunger in it.

She jerks her face away from my hand, a flash of disgust in the motion—but her pupils tell a different story.

They’re blown wide, dark and hungry. My strange little Lily, all sharp edges and shadowed corners, carrying a past so poisoned it seeps from her skin.

She can lie with her mouth all she wants, but her eyes betray her—violence doesn’t scare her like it should. It stirs her.

I slip a syringe from my pocket, letting it dangle between my fingers before waving it slowly in front of her face.

Her breath hitches. Fear sparks in her widened eyes, and she stares at me with a silent, desperate plea—don’t drug me again.

“If I give you another one of these,” I say, my tone almost casual, “you’ll start hallucinating. One more hit after that, and your brain activity will be… permanently altered.”

I stop, watching her reaction. She’s trembling now, the anxiety rolling off her in waves. I already have her compliance, but I want more. I want it etched into her bones.

“You’ll lose control of your body. You could have a stroke.

Maybe your heart gives out. Worst case?” I lean closer, my voice dropping to a dark murmur.

“You spend the rest of your life drooling in a bed somewhere, a living corpse. You’re not exactly known for making good choices, Lily, but I strongly suggest you avoid this one. ”

Her throat bobs as she swallows, nodding once—slow, reluctant. Her gaze stays glued to the syringe as I tuck it back into my pocket.

I guide her to the car, one hand firm on her elbow. Once she’s inside, I pull the seatbelt across her chest and click it into place like it’s a shackle. She’s not going anywhere.

I stroll around the hood, unhurried, and slide into the driver’s seat. “How about some Alanis?” I ask, folding my legs in and turning the key, like we’re about to take a pleasant little drive instead of me dragging her deeper into my world.

We make the drive back to the house in loaded silence. Even the soft hum of the radio starts to grate on her nerves, and after a few tense minutes, Lily reaches over and clicks it off. The quiet between us isn’t peaceful—it’s thick, taut, like a rope pulled to the point of snapping.

I pull into a drive-thru on the way, order without asking her what she wants, and pass her a bag of fries when they hand me the food. I catch the faintest twitch of her mouth as she bites into one, and I can’t help but smirk. Even drowning in anxiety, she hasn’t lost her appetite.

When we finally pull up to the mansion, she says, “I need to use the restroom.”

My eyes slide toward her across the console, slow and deliberate—a wordless warning. We both know what will happen if she tries another stunt.

“Down the hall, to the left,” I say as we step inside.

She disappears and comes back a few minutes later, settling at the small kitchen table with her food. Once, this table was surrounded by the chatter and laughter of hired staff. Now it’s just her chewing quietly, the occasional scrape of a chair leg against tile.

I stand at the window, burger in hand, phone pressed to my ear as I check my voicemails.

Outside, the garden beds are the only thriving part of this decaying estate.

The rest is shadows and echoing halls, walls heavy with stories—some say haunted.

I don’t buy into that crap, but the place’s macabre reputation did get me a good deal. One of my better acquisitions .

“So… obviously you’ve planned this well,” she says when I finally take a seat across from her.

“Planned what?” I ask.

“My kidnapping. I’m obviously valuable to someone.”

I snort, and her glare sharpens.

“What?” she demands.

“Looks like your friend Bethany was right about one thing,” I say.

She’s practically vibrating with fury as she waits for me to elaborate.

“And what would that be?”

“You’re so daft if you can’t figure out why you’re here, Lily.”

“That’s me. Daft is my middle name!” she fires back, slamming her palm on the table hard enough to rattle it.

She pushes to her feet and stalks to the window, eyeing the frame like she’s calculating the climb.

“Don’t even think about it, Lily,” I warn, my voice low and sharp.

She whirls on me, eyes blazing with contempt. Perfect. I can work with contempt. Break it down. Bend it into something else.

“The sooner you understand there’s no way out unless I say so, the sooner you can be at peace.”

“Peace? Peace? Are you fucking crazy? No—don’t answer that. Of course you’re crazy. You’re stark raving mad if you think you can hold me here and I’ll just… play along. M-A-D!”

“I don’t think anything,” I say, my voice quiet but absolute.

Something in the way I say it stops her cold. Her words die in her throat, her anger wavering for just a heartbeat. Maybe it’s the calm certainty in my tone. Maybe it’s because, deep down, she knows I’m not bluffing.

“Why am I here?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper, and for the first time tonight, defeat creeps back into her eyes .

I lean back, meet her gaze without flinching. “Absolution, Lily. Absolution.”

I tell Lily the truth about the house—it’s locked down tighter than Fort Knox.

The walls aren’t just walls; they’re barriers designed to keep her in as much as they keep the outside world out.

She finally believes me when I explain that if she so much as steps across the threshold without my say-so, an invisible alarm will trip, and the consequences won’t be pretty.

What she doesn’t realize is that I’ll take her any way I can get her.

If I can’t have her whole and perfect—just as she is—then I’ll keep her sedated until she learns.

Some people would call it monstrous, claim I’m no better than the predators I’ve hunted down and destroyed.

But Lily… Lily is different. She’s the one flaw in my armor, my kryptonite.

And I’ll be damned if I spend one more day without her.

I think back to earlier, to the exact moment her eyes went wide with horror as she watched me work—watched me end Sheila Shine.

I had to cut the session short, finish the job fast, because I knew Lily would run.

I wanted her to. I wanted the hunt, the rush of chasing her down, the satisfaction of catching her and showing her there’s no corner of this earth she can disappear into that I won’t find.

Now, she keeps her questions close to her chest. She used to be more relaxed around me before she saw me open a throat, but that’s the price of my line of work.

I can win her back. It’ll take time, patience, maybe even a little charm—things I’m more than capable of when I want something badly enough. And I want her.

“Why am I here?” she asks as I lead her down the hall.

The room I show her is small, but it’s the kind of cozy I know she likes—soft lighting, warm colors, a bed that will swallow her whole. She only asks because I told her it was hers, making it clear I wouldn’t be sleeping there.

“I think you already know, Lily,” I say. “But despite what you think of me, I won’t take anything you don’t give me willingly.”

Her brow furrows as she weighs her next question.

“Why me?”

I meet her gaze without hesitation. “The same reason anyone would want to possess a priceless work of art.”