Page 37 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

Carver

The Day After

I woke up to no one.

No Lyra beside me, or under my arm. No running water or light on in the bathroom.

I gathered the sheet around my naked waist and checked the shower, searching like she could hide beneath the tiles.

I tried to walk calmly out to the kitchen—still, no Ly.

My patience was slipping, but I tried to stay calm in case she was outside, talking to her friend, or smoking.

Wood creaked under my feet as I stepped out on the porch, walking down the length of the house, searching all ends. Again—no Lyra.

And that’s when I saw the tire tracks from where her car had sat for over a week now. Mostly unused. Unneeded.

Dick clucked in circles over the tracks, pecking at the gravel like she’d be under those stones. Not the brightest bird, but he seemed to notice something was missing from the spot. Something so vital that I struggled to calm the blur of racing lines running through my mind.

Our night couldn’t have gone better. Not even in my dreams had I been able to kiss her, fuck her, and make her mine all over again. She let me devour her, let me caress her body and hold her…and…

I’d never once asked her about birth control. Hadn’t even crossed my mind until now.

Dick cocked his head at me as my legs grew weak.

I fell to my knees in the gravel, staring at the end of the driveway, counting up and down to and from ten, like that would bring her back.

What if she ran away, and this time, I’d miss out on a family with her?

She’d take what we created when we made love to each other and just… leave.

What was really stopping her?

One night with me, and I thought she’d love me. That I was enough to keep her here.

How fucking na?ve .

I rushed back inside, threw on my jeans and gathered my phone in my hands, then paused as I stared down at the screen. I’d never gotten her number. The one person who might’ve probably wasn’t going to like hearing from me, but I had to push that all aside.

I needed her back like I needed to breathe.

“Carver. What do you—”

“I need Ly’s phone number,” I cut off Jamie instantly.

He croaked out laughter I didn’t fucking feel. Something like a chair squeaked in the background and I pictured the smug bastard leaning back in one. “She’s your wife, ain’t she?”

“Number. Now.” Silence stretched too long in the precious seconds I had to find my wife. I slammed my fist on top of the desk, my eyes glued to the driveway. “Now!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll send it to you, if you admit it’s all fake.”

“Give me the number now and I won’t find out where you live and shoot you where you sleep.”

“Two words—it’s fake.” Something like fingers drumming on a table filled the void, another stretch of time he was wasting on something that wasn’t even true. I wasn’t sure it had ever been fake.

Not for me, at least.

“It’s not fake. Give me my wife’s number.”

“I’m willing to bet a month’s worth of my salary that you bribed her into marrying you. Odd how you did it so close to when you needed thirty days to finish off your bet, ain’t it?”

My molars ground together. “What’s odd is your belief that I won’t kill you.”

“A death threat, bribery…are you trying to collect felonies?”

“Listen here, prick. I love my fucking wife, and she may be pregnant with my child as we speak. So, you either give me the number, or I’ll hop into my truck and drive to Aubrey’s house and blow her brains out instead. Sound good to you?”

The fingers on the other side of the line stopped drumming. Moments later, my phone pinged with a photo—a screenshot of a number and a location. “Your wife never shared her number with me, but I at least had the brains to steal her phone and take what I needed.”

My fist curled in around the phone, remembering how Sabrina talked about Jamie when we were at my bar the night before.

Jamie, who she didn’t even know before I brought her home.

She’d been at my bar before we arrived, so maybe tracking Ly to the bar with her location on Jamie’s phone was a bit of a stretch, but something wasn’t right with the two of them.

All of that would have to wait.

I hung up on him and stared down at the red dot in the middle of a familiar dirt path. I didn’t bother with boots or a shirt, just ran to my truck and took off, staring at the picture while dodging any cars on the two-lane road.

Not five minutes later, I spotted the same tire tracks that’d been in my driveway on a strip of dirt near where Jamie’s picture led me to.

I pulled up next to her empty car and stared at the all-too familiar house—a blue tarp shredded to pieces, vines covering the exterior—and possibly interior—walls, only evading the door that was left wide open.

“Ly!” I bolted from the truck, calling her name, but unsure if I’d be able to hear her answer past the drumming in my ears. Blood pulsed rapidly through my veins, and for a moment, I was sure my brain was about to split.

I ran up the several steps leading to the front door and burst into the living space.

My eyes struggled to focus on any element, any sign of life.

The couch in the corner was still there, only now smelled of mildew and mold.

The walls had critters climbing up and down and over cracks, and the kitchen in the back—I could only imagine what the flies were buzzing around.

I made my way to the only room she used to find an ounce of solace in this place, and that’s when I froze in the doorway.

Lyra stood in the middle of a disheveled, yellow rug, her long brown hair thrown over the front of her shoulder, revealing my beautiful wife in my shirt and belt, paired with the floral boots she got for our date.

The most beautiful creature ever.

She didn’t turn as I closed in on her and wrapped my arms around her from behind. Dipping my nose into the crook of her neck, I breathed in deeply, inhaling her warmth and sunshine.

“I found you,” I murmured into her skin, more to myself than to her. I was sure she could hear the broken man I’d been long ago when she’d left the first time, but I didn’t care to hide that anymore. Lyra’s arms settled over mine, her soft fingers grazing my forearms.

“I was comin’ right back to you, Car.” She turned in my hold, her red-rimmed eyes making my brows furrow as she cupped my face in those too-soft hands. Her eyes searched mine, her thumb gliding over my bottom lip. “I was going to come right back to you. I swear it.”

My hand covered hers, needing to touch every part of her I could. “Why here?”

Her throat worked as she glanced away, her attention now on the empty walls. “He…he took my entire collection. I came to get it, and I-I don’t understand why he’d—”

“No, Ly. He didn’t.”

Her lips tilted down, her chin quaking. “Then…where is it all?”

“First—promise you won’t ever leave me again.” My hands skimmed down her back, pressing her closer to me by her waist. I dipped my forehead to hers. “You go somewhere, you say something.”

A soft smile tilted her lips as she pulled her hand from my cheek and drew an ‘x’ over her chest. “Cross my heart,” she promised.

I pressed my lips to her forehead, staring at the blank walls as I admitted, “I took them.”

She leaned back, angling her chin up, confusion clear as day on her face. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t know much about the father figure you had—” She winced in my hold, her eyes darting from mine instantly. I arched a brow and continued, “Because you never told me. But somethin’ in my gut told me, if you ever came back, you’d want them kept safe. Away from him.”

I could see the questions forming behind her beautiful brown eyes, the words about to leave her lips.

It was a toss-up between why I’d do that after everything that happened, and how I was able to see that every time ‘home’ was mentioned or the guy who lived there with her, she’d evade any further conversation.

The knob requiring a key on her bedroom door rose my suspicions the first day I met her, and what he said to me the day she left drove that theory home—

Whatever their relationship was, it hadn’t been good.

TEN YEARS AGO

“Roland? Where you at?” My fist tightened just hearing Noah as he entered my parent’s bar.

On days when Lyra said she couldn’t hang out—which were few and far between so I did my best to accept it whenever she said so—I earned a few bucks cleaning up the bar.

I usually liked the peace of it all, but there wouldn’t be much peace today.

“Here.” I stood and tossed my hand up from behind the bar, then reached for the rag tossed over my shoulder to clean the grime from my hands.

Noah smirked and strode to the barstools, then sat where I directed him to, right in front of me. “Prom is tomorrow,” he said, tapping his fingers rhythmically along the wooden surface. “Is that why you wanted to meet?”

“Yeah.” I finished wiping what I could from my hands and slung the towel back over my shoulder. “Time to pay up.”

His smirk faltered. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” My eyes bore into his. “I won, you lost. Time to pay up.”

“I need proof.”

My hands balled into fists, my jaw working. I knew he’d want proof, but having that proof and showing it to him were two very different things.

He grinned. “I knew you were lyin’. Can’t even— shit. ” I reached into my pocket the second he opened his mouth and pulled out my proof, holding it up in the light, leaving no question as to what was on it.

Red splotches stained the white fabric, mostly torn to shreds by now. I grimaced as he stood there, eyeing it with both hunger and anger.

Sick fuck .