Page 15 of Lily and her Mercenary (CHANGING OF THE GUARDS)
Ryker
T wo weeks to the day I decided it was time to check in with Royal.
But this time I wasn’t leaving Lily behind to fend for herself.
We packed up and made our way down the mountain to where we had parked the Prius.
After tossing our stuff into the trunk we made our way to the closest town, the last time I had a signal on my phone.
‘Sugar Beach Convenience’ the sign read above the store as we pulled up. I parked it by a weeping willow and asked her if she wanted to go inside while I made the phone call.
She said sure, and hopped out, stretching in the dappled light. I watched her cross the lot, hair pulled back, eyes alert. When she disappeared inside, I pulled out the phone and dialed Royal’s number.
He picked up on the second ring, the sound of seagulls and car horns in the background. “Make it quick,” he said. “I’m feeding the cat.”
“Feeding what cat? You were supposed to drop her off at Sarah’s?”
“Of course I did. Mabel rode shotgun with her front paws on the dash the whole time. I think I’m falling for her.”
“The cat or Sarah?” I laughed, for real this time.
“The cat. Although Sarah is a riot. You want the rundown or the bad news?” I caught the shift in his tone, straightening. “Bad news.”
“I think I’ll need to adopt a cat. Unless of course, Lily doesn’t want Mabel. I could fight her for visitation rights.”
“Fuck off,” I grumbled with a grin on my lips. “So, what’s the good news?”
“Matheson is dead. Took out the whole MacGallan estate with him, but he’s dead. Over two weeks ago. You and Lily never needed to go into the mountains, and you no longer need to hide out. We can finally head back home and get on with our lives.”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks.
I wasn’t ready to let Lily get back to her life. Because without her, I didn’t have one.
Lily
I wandered through the store in an absent-minded daze, hands brushing the rows of licorice, jerky sticks, and dusty bags of trail mix.
At the cold drinks, I debated between a Diet Coke and an energy drink called Monster Squash, neon green. The idea of obliterating my exhaustion with a can of poison appealed to me. I reached for one.
“Good choice. Goes well with a pack of Twizzlers,” Ryker said, in my ear. No warning, no footsteps, just the deep, low rumble I’d become addicted to.
I didn’t turn around. “Do they really, or are you making fun of me?”
He laughed, setting a single stick of beef jerky next to my can. “I’d kill for one of them but makes me too jittery.”
He paid for the snacks, exchanging a joke with the kid at the counter, and we walked out together. The sunlight hurt my eyes as I popped the tab of my Monster Squash and sucked down half in one go.
The Prius was already running as I opened my car door and sat in my seat. “Did you get through to Royal?” I asked.
Ryker grinned, then shocked the hell out of me by producing a lint roller from the glove box and running it over his t-shirt. “Royal is adopting a cat.”
Soda came out of my nose, which burned more than you’d believe. “He what?”
“He said, and I quote, ‘I think I’m falling for her.’” He tossed the roller back into the glove box and then started to drive. “Also, Matheson is dead. You and I are officially off the radar.”
I leaned back, acutely aware of the emotions inside me. I should be elated or feel relieved but all I felt was uncertainty. “I’m allowed to live, then?” My tone was light but it trembled underneath.
“Death was never in the equation for you,” Ryker said, eyes fixed on the road as he pulled out of the lot. A long silence unraveled between us.
“Do you ever miss normal?” I ventured, watching towns roll by through the bug-spattered glass.
“In all honesty?” Ryker thought. “Normal isn’t something I’ve ever had.”
I took another pull of my drink. “Me neither. I think I was waiting for someone to give me permission to stop pretending.”
Ryker’s face softened. “You don’t need permission. You just need someone stubborn enough to stick with you.” His hand found my leg, a warm heaviness that made me want to cry.
We were passing a field, its grass silvery and bowed, when I whispered, “I want you stubborn, then. Every day.” It was the closest I’d come to asking someone to stay. No teacher voice, no armor, just a bare plea in the open air.
Ryker squeezed my thigh. “Deal.” He drove on, whistling off-key, the two of us patched together by trauma and coffee and the insane determination not to let the world eat us whole.
∞∞∞
That night, we found a vacancy at a roadside lodge outside Kamloops—a real bed, crisp sheets, and not a single blood stain in sight.
We watched TV, split a pizza, and showered together until the hot water ran out.
In bed, Ryker pulled me close, his arms wrapped so completely around my body that I could feel his pulse, steady and persistent, beneath my cheek.
“Tell me a secret,” I whispered, glancing up at his profile in the light from the TV.
He rolled to face me, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“I used to think I was only good at leaving,” he said quietly.
“When we first came to Vancouver, I treated you like any other assignment. Checked on you a couple of times throughout the day and that was it. And every time I walked away from you, it felt like losing blood. So, I became a watcher of you. You were my hobby.”
My stomach knotted. “After this is over, I don’t want to stop being your hobby,” I admitted, and finally let myself believe it might even be true.
“You won’t be,” he said, and the simplicity of it steadied everything around me. “Not unless you ask.”
I smiled, drowsy and full of more life than I’d ever felt in Vancouver, or anywhere else for that matter. “You’re a way better babysitter than you think.”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you get away with calling me a babysitter… this time.”
∞∞∞
Morning came with the promise of nothing on the schedule. No emergency meeting, no lesson plan, and no shooters waiting in the stairwell. I didn’t even brush my hair, just let Ryker steal a kiss before we checked out.
We drove west in no rush, knowing that neither of us wanted to go home, or whatever “home” meant. Somewhere past Chilliwack, in the rain, I asked, “What’s next?”
Ryker glanced over, eyes flat and honest, thumb stroking the scar behind his ear. “You want job security?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Okay. Kindergarten teacher and retired mercenary, open a pet rescue in the North Shore. We take in strays, solve minor crimes for fun, and never set foot in a school board meeting again.”
It was the first time I’d laughed since leaving the little hick town with the carnival, a real laugh, snorting and all. I punched his arm. “Deal.”
Two hours later, we pulled outside Sarah’s home.
She came to the door, hair in a scrunchie, a baby on her hip and Mabel twined around her feet like a velvet shadow.
She let out a shriek, shoved the baby into Ryker’s arms, and hugged me so hard I thought my ribs would snap for the second time in days.
“You made it,” she whispered in my ear, then turned to Ryker. “Take care of her, or I’ll find you and crush your nuts in a vise.”
He grinned and handed the baby back to her. “Wouldn’t expect less.”
We headed back to my apartment, once there, he pulled up to the curb and watched as I trudged up the fire escape. When I was safely inside, he took off to find a secluded place to dump the Prius.
I stood looking around and was surprised at how my own home felt so foreign to me. Being away for almost a month would do that to a person.
Once out of her carrier, Mabel inspected every nook and cranny. Satisfied, she jumped onto the windowsill and watched the world go by, three stories down. And that’s when I noticed it. All my plants that were lush and thriving were either dead or wilted.
The only energy I had to do anything with them was water the ones that might have a chance... the rest I would deal with another day.
I opened the fridge to see what I could whip up for dinner and closed it with a thud. There was nothing. I reached into my bag looking for my burner phone to ask Ryker to pick up some takeout when I heard a bang coming from my bedroom down the hall.
They say hindsight is 20/20, and that is true. I had watched enough horror flicks in my time that I should have known to get out of the apartment, but I didn’t. And I paid for it dearly.