Page 58 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

Lyra

The Escape

A s I pulled out of the driveway in Car’s truck, I had to remind myself that I wasn’t leaving Alliston Springs all over again. That I wasn’t leaving Carver all over again.

I’m here for good.

My life—my upbringing—groomed me to be on the run. While the idea that I was staying started to settle in my head and heart, my nerves seemed to think something else entirely. My fingers tapped the worn steering wheel, my knee bounced, and my teeth scraped over my lips.

“You’re goin’ right back. You’re just getting jeans. That’s all,” I reassured myself, willing my muscles to loosen.

Which didn’t work.

Minutes later, I was opening a consignment shop’s door with shaky hands. I’d chosen a different place than where I’d gotten my dress from—one of three clothing stores in town. Faux leather squeaked, my hands wringing the strap of my purse as I walked farther into the store.

An elderly woman with short white curls came out from the back. “Can I help you find anythin’?” she asked.

“No. Yes. No.” Squeak . “I uh…” Squeak. “Maybe?”

She smiled sweetly—something that seemed as natural as breathing to her. “What’re you here for?”

My mind raced, eyes suddenly caught on the yellowed lights above. “Well, you see, I used to live right down the road, but now I—”

“Not in Alliston, sweet girl.” I sighed and pinched my eyes shut. When I opened them, the woman was a little closer, leaning on a rack of clothes. “You want some coffee?”

I nodded. “Yes, please, ma’am. That would be lovely.”

She started walking toward the back. I followed, leaving a decent gap between us as she talked over her shoulder. “I haven’t seen you ’round here, but I recognize that truck. You Carver’s new wife?”

“New?”

She laughed. “Excuse me, I just meant wife. Not meanin’ in the sense that he had one before. Hell, no one thought he’d ever settle down. My niece was tellin’ me how pretty you are.” She stopped talking and reached for a mug, then started pouring fresh coffee into it. “Now, then—sugar? Cream?”

“Both. Lots. Thank you, again.” I started fiddling with my hair, trying to tie it up, then giving up, then trying again.

“You are his wife, right?”

I nodded, trying to ignore my nerves. “Yes, ma’am.”

She hummed. “My niece was right about you.” The woman’s eyes wandered over my dress as she added cream and sugar to a mug. “Said you also had a mouth on you, though you seem nothin’ but kind to me.”

I flashed a smile, and for the first time in a long time toward a stranger, it felt…genuine. I liked her. She passed me the mug, and I took a few sips, not caring that it was too hot to taste.

“You do look a little familiar,” the woman said.

“I get that a lot,” I replied, trying my best to not look back at her, hoping she’d drop it.

She didn’t.

“A girl from a long time ago used to have that same look about her.” She squinted, then shook her head. “Oh, how rude of me, inspecting you like that without even tellin’ you my name. I’m Nadine, Aubrey’s auntie.”

I almost spit my coffee out, then decided it was best kept in and pushed the hot liquid down my throat. “Nice to meet you, Nadine. How is Aubrey doing?”

Nadine shrugged. “That girl—the porch light’s on, but no one's home. Ya know? I swear, it’s a good thing that Jamie has an interest in her.”

I grinned against my cup, having successfully skirted giving her my name. “That is a good thing.”

The glass door to the store rattled open, a sharp pinging noise following. I turned right as golden, slicked-back hair flashed in my periphery. “Nadine, you in ‘ere? Got your pack—” Jamie stopped in his tracks, his posture turning rigid. “Lyra. Good mornin’.”

There goes my name. Great.

“Mornin’,” I replied from behind my mug, tipping it up to him in mock cheers, though he didn't deserve even that much from me with the crap he pulled at our house. “Nadine was just tellin’ me how cute you and Aubrey are together, ain’t that right, Nadine?”

“More like how completely airheaded that poor girl is, bless her heart,” Nadine quipped.

I really liked this woman.

Jamie’s jaw worked. “Lyra, I have somethin’ in my truck for Carver. You mind helpin’ me?”

I swallowed thickly at the way he was regarding me. “Let the girl get what she came here for, I—oh my word!” I put my hand on Nadine’s shoulder, thinking she was about to have a heart attack or episode of some kind. “Lyra Thomas? Chet’s girl?”

Warmth leeched from my skin, a cold sweat taking its place. Jamie’s head cocked as I pointed to a rack. “Came here for jeans. Thank you so much for the coffee, I—”

“Well, wait just a minute. How is he holdin’ up?”

“Fine. He’s just fine.”

“Chet Walker?” Jamie asked, rubbing his jawline. “Ain’t he in hospice?” He slid his hands in his pockets. “That don’t sound so fine to me.”

“He’s fine,” I repeated. “Just fine.”

“Right,” Jamie said as he tipped his chin toward the door. “I’ll be outside waitin’ for you to grab the stuff for Carver. I’m sure he’d appreciate having it back.” He slipped out the door, watching me through the glass like a hawk.

“So, jeans. Size two? Four?” Nadine approached me slowly before placing her hand at the small of my back, guiding me toward the women’s section.

“Two,” I croaked.

Nadine lowered her voice. “Sorry about him. He’s a good man for Aubrey, but a cocksucker to most. If it weren’t for needing my husband’s meds, I’d tell him to go piss off.”

“Meds? Is he okay?”

Nadine clucked her tongue as she started sifting through thrifted jeans, checking each tag for their size.

“He’ll be okay. Doing a lot better after his surgery with what Jamie brings.

” She pinched her fingers and brought them to her wrinkled lips, imitating smoking a joint.

“He’s tried a lot of other strands, but one your husband grows helps him the most.”

“My husband? Car?” I shot a glance over my shoulder. Jamie was now leaning against his truck, arms and ankles crossed. Waiting.

“Well, he ain’t my husband,” Nadine joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Is Jamie charging you for that?”

“Yes, of course. A couple grand, depending on the size of the box he brings.”

My brows shot up. “Does my husband ever bring one? A box, I mean.”

She scratched the back of her head. “Come to think about it, I don’t believe he has. Always figured he was busy working when Jamie brought it by.”

I shuffled my feet as she pulled a pair of jeans from the rack. “Here’s one! I know I can find a few more if you need.”

“I think one is fine for now.” I double-checked the tag, confirming Nadine’s sight was as good as her memory. “Thank you, Nadine.” I hugged her—full-on wrapped my arms around her. “You’ve been very helpful.” In more ways than one.

She brushed her hands down her sides as I pulled back. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Roland. Come by anytime, even if it’s just for coffee.”

I smiled as I followed her to the register, certain coffee and town gossip from one of the nicest women I’d ever met was in my future. She wrapped up the jeans with pink paper before putting it into a bag. “Between you and me,” Nadine started, leaning over the counter, “I never liked Chet, either.”

“Who—”

“Save the questions like you don’t know, dear. I’d never seen someone go as pale as you did when I brought him up. It’s not exactly a secret that he’s a bad person.” She clasped her palm over her lips. “Lord, where are my manners? I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

Reaching for the bag, I wondered just how far-reaching that bit of knowledge was. Chet gambled and probably pissed off whoever he played with, but for someone like Nadine to know he was a bad man…

You don’t know her, Ly. She could also be just as bad.

Though my gut instincts told me otherwise.

“Thank you,” I settled on replying before I could think too much into it. “I’ll be back for some coffee real soon. Promise.”

She winked as she turned and headed for the back again.

I’d nearly forgotten all about Jamie as I walked out, clutching my bagged jeans. “Lyra Thomas,” he called, like I wasn’t heading straight for him.

“What the fuck do you want?”

He pushed me up against his truck, and my pulse skyrocketed. “I want you to get a message to your husband for me.”

“Fuck right the hell off,” I spat. “Let me go, or I’ll be tellin’ him about you puttin’ your hands on me.”

Jamie appeared to mull that over rather quickly as he blinked, then stepped back. With the morning sun beaming down, the mark on his nose became more clear, though it looked as if he’d covered it with makeup.

I bit my tongue against the laughter that imagery drew up in my head.

“Tell him I’m suing him.”

That’s when the laughter broke free.

“You won’t be laughing when I come to your house with my lawyer,” Jamie said, raising his tone.

So, I did the same. “And what’s your lawyer gonna do? You made a verbal agreement, and there are witnesses.”

“Hayes and Grant will back me,” Jamie bit back.

I snorted. “No, they won’t.”

“Then looks like you better be the one backing me.”

“Why the hell would I back you? I love my husband.” A sense of belonging like I’d never felt before coursed through me. “I’ll defend him ’til the day I die.”

Jamie smirked wickedly, eyeing my ring as he asked, “Does he know you’re Chet’s whore?”

My throat ran dry. “What?”

“You heard me.” He broadened his stance and crossed his arms. “Does your husband know all about the ways you let Chet touch you as a teen?”

That cold sweat came back. I tried to stop the fidgeting of my fingers, pinning them between my back and the truck I was now using as support. My legs became weightless, and as I leaned deeper into the truck, Jamie chuckled.

“I knew it.” He clapped his hands together. “I fucking knew there was somethin’ way off about you. Hearing Chet ramblin’ about a ‘pretty girl’ he used to keep under his roof while he lost every dime—and here you are. In the flesh.”