Page 68 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

Lyra

The Delivery

Image of a note, which reads: Ly, Sorry I was out so late hunting.

I missed you. Do you mind taking the box on the desk up to Nadine?

Tell her it will come from you from now on.

The bag beside it is for your friend so she doesn’t feel the need to steal from us.

I’ll be home at five. Be ready for me to fuck the rest of that sense from your head. Love, Car

The note was left on his nightstand, beside a full glass of water and a bottle of Aspirin.

My lifesaver .

I threw on a dress and tied up my hair in a high-pony, hoping that would keep me from sweating for at least some of the day since summer was creeping up on us.

I glanced back at our bed before leaving our room, trying to remember if I’d been the one to find it in my drunken state or if perhaps Carver had come home and carried me there.

It was probably the latter.

Which meant Sophia would be in—

Not the guest room.

Soft snores greeted me as I stepped into the living room, only to find my best friend on the couch with a box of pizza right on the floor beside her, and no other than Grant curled up behind her.

I tapped her leg with my toes, and when her eyes batted open, I couldn’t help the smirk on my face. “Gettin’ cozy?”

“Huh?”

I jutted my chin. Her eyes widened as she turned her head just enough to take in Grant.

“Oh, fuck off, Lyra,” she whispered, trying to work his hand from her without waking him. “What’s in there?”

“Car wants me to go into town.” She finally finished unsticking herself from Grant’s hold, grimacing occasionally as if he were a bug. “Take it to a friend. You stickin’ around or does that ”—I pointed to the tattooed playboy behind her—”make you feel like you gotta go home?”

She stood and yanked the box from under my arm. “Maybe I’ll move here.”

As nice as that sounded, it would be impossible for her circumstances to ever allow it.

I snorted. “You’re still drunk.”

“Yeah, probably.” She shrugged. “You driving? Can we get coffee?”

My eyes slid to the window. “Have to take Carver’s truck.”

“Whatever works. I don’t care.” She fluffed her hair and slid on her shoes. I opened the door, and right as Grant groaned from the couch, Sophia pushed me through.

I shook my head as she darted to my husband’s truck. “Can’t you walk faster?” she hissed from behind the passenger side door.

“You woke up still wearing your clothes and you came from your friend’s house, not his. I’m sure whatever you’re trying to do doesn’t really count as a walk of shame.”

Her gaze shot to the front door. “Doesn’t mean I want him talking to me more.”

I eyed her warily as I slid into the driver’s seat. She didn’t seem to mind his company at all last night. But I knew her circumstances didn’t allow for anything significant to be there. “I thought I was the only liar between the two of us, Soph.”

“I’m not lyin’.” She watched me with a stupefied expression, waving her finger around in a circle toward me. “You know, you told me you were comin’ back to this town for a fresh start. So, if we’re talkin’ about lies , then—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

She settled the box on the floor and crossed her arms. Before she could open her mouth again, I pulled out my phone and flipped to a picture of the vacuum-packed bag Car left behind for her.

“What’s that?”

“For you. Told him you wanted me to steal from him, so he gave me that to give to you.” I tapped on the screen, and seconds later, her phone vibrated. “Sent it to you if you want to send elsewhere.”

She beamed. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“A few times.” I adjusted the rearview mirror as we turned onto the main road.

“This is bribery to make me stop askin’ you things, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t blame you. For leaving. Now that I can see why you came back, that is.”

My throat turned dry. When I got the call about Chet, I had so much runnin’ through my head that the clear answer to why I’d come back never settled. My collection, making sure the bastard would croak…and then Car, who I wasn’t sure would still be here.

I’d be lying if I said that last thought wasn’t the one to send me packing and driving back to town. Ten years was a long time to still love someone the way I loved him.

I nodded along. “Yeah.”

She reached down for the box, then dropped it and whispered, “Oh crap. Cops?” The same man who’d been at our house stepped into Nadine’s shop as I pulled in. “Do you want to go to jail?”

“Relax. He don’t have to know what’s inside.”

“You know him, too?”

“Kinda.” I hopped out of the truck, and when Sophia narrowed her eyes on me, I sighed. “Guess I’m the only one getting coffee, then.”

She took the box up and out faster than a hot knife through butter.

“What? I’m tired as fuck,” Sophia muttered.

“Mhmm.”

“Mrs. Roland,” the officer I learned was named Henry said the moment I opened the door. “And…”

“My friend,” I finished.

Henry paused, probably hoping I’d continue with a name. Carver hadn’t disclosed much about Henry, but I did know he’d come to our house to talk about Jamie. And Jamie could eat shit for all I cared.

“Lyra Roland, what a pleasant surprise.” Nadine strolled out from the back and pushed past Henry. I grabbed the box from Sophia and smiled at Nadine.

“My husband says this is for you,” I whispered, dodging Henry’s wandering eyes by stepping to the side, using Nadine like a human shield. “He also says it will always come from me from now on.”

“I already got the other one,” she whispered.

“Then have extra until the next time,” I whispered back.

Nadine took it and tapped on the top, a deep crease forming between her brows for a moment. She wiped the look away, then turned to Henry. “What is it I can do for you today, Sheriff?”

He glanced at the box, then at me. Had that box reeked of the marijuana it contained, I was sure the curiosity on Henry’s face would’ve dissolved and those cuffs dangling from his back pocket would come of use real quick.

It was legal here, but not without a medical card, which I didn’t have.

Carver must’ve vacuum-packed what was inside, too.

“Clothes she needs hemmed,” Nadine supplied while shuffling past Henry to the back.

“Right. Of course.” Henry cleared his throat.

“Well, ladies. I’m clearly interferin’ with what looks like a wholesome gathering, but I do have some questions regarding Jamie.

” He cleared his throat again, prying the collar of his shirt with a finger.

“Rest assured, your husband’s statement was handled with the utmost care. ”

I slapped on a pretty smile I didn’t feel. “It was?”

He gave a single nod. “Course. Carver told me about—” He paused, yet again, to clear his throat, only this time, his cheeks turned a shade of red.

The ‘battery’ Carver mentioned must’ve escalated to needing to know Jamie’s dealings, and I doubted it was the theft from the facility.

“I apologize. I hope you know how seriously we take things like that here in Alliston, and it’s my duty to make sure everyone, especially women, feels safe here. ”

I bit my cheek, keeping the laugh that roared to the surface back down. “I’m sure Alliston is real safe under your watch, Sheriff.”

The sarcasm was obviously missed as he smiled solemnly.

Sophia nudged my shoulder the second Henry turned to talk to Nadine. “What the fuck happened? Did he say Jamie? Did he do somethin’ to you?”

“Nothin’ that needs a cop’s attention.”

“That’s not convincing coming from someone who’s been mugged before and still refused to call the cops, even after getting a black eye and her shit stolen.”

“Keep that to yourself,” I hissed.

“Why? Would your protective-as-fuck husband find him and—”

“Yes,” I said flatly. Angling my body, I could almost hear what the sheriff was saying to Nadine. If I could just—

Sophia crossed her arms. “Then tell me what Jamie did and I won’t say a word.”

“Know what? I promised you coffee.” I grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the back. Nadine and Henry’s conversation became clearer with every step, though I should have guessed it had something to do with Jamie being an ass to me in the parking lot.

The part I didn’t expect was, “He seems to have skipped town.”

Last night suddenly became clearer than it had been in my drunken state. Carver and his two friends coming over, leaving me with my friend—

Hunting my ass .

“Nadine,” I cut in, dragging Sophia behind me still. “I’m so sorry to butt in, but I was tellin’ my friend here how great your coffee was.”

Henry made room in the small back area, allowing us through. Nadine seemed happy with the interruption. “Why don’t you call me if he pops up? I thought he was good for Aubrey, but it seems I was wrong.” Her smile was somber this time as she poured Sophia and I each a cup.

Shit . She saw what he did, then.

Henry tipped his head, only covering it back up with his black hat as he stepped outside.

“That asshole,” Nadine murmured.

“Henry?”

“Jamie.” Nadine passed the mugs to us, one at a time. “I’m sorry he did that to you. Henry asked for the parking lot footage yesterday. You poor, poor thing.”

I could feel Sophia shooting bullets with her eyes at me. “He leave?” I asked.

“Doubtful. Henry is just used to that being the case.”

I lifted the mug to my lips and glanced at the front of the store. No more cruiser in the lot. “Has Henry been Sheriff for long?”

“Sheriff? No, only a few years. But he was an officer for this town before the promotion for about twenty years, maybe more?” She took one look at me, then added, “His brain has gotten a little fuzzy over the years, but he’s a good sheriff for this town.

” She looked me over as I sipped from my mug, then sighed.

“Some things are better left forgotten, ain’t that right? ”

“Most definitely,” Sophia said, having no clue Nadine was talking about Chet. About my connection to him. About who the hell he even was.

“The meds for my husband—I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am. I can pay—”

I waved my hand. “On the house.”

She bobbed her head and took a seat in a rickety wooden chair propped beside a small table housing her coffee pot. “Well, then. Does your friend have a name you’d care to share with me since I’m not the sheriff?”

“Sophia,” I replied as my friend glanced at me past her mug. At least I left off her last name.

“Sophia.” Nadine grinned between us. “Welcome to Alliston Springs.”

I did as Carver suggested and showed Sophia around the parts of town I felt comfortable in. Turns out, that was few and far between. We ended up at my husband’s bar, and although it was closed, the manager let us in and served us a drink.

Sitting there with my friend at my side and an employee who had no clue about my past—or if they did, they didn’t act like it—I almost felt something more than just safe.

I felt free.

Free to make my own choices. Free to wake up and be happy and just live my life. And to think weeks ago I thought I’d be running from this town once I collected what I needed to.

Once Chet passed, which would hopefully be any day now.

I could see my future in a bright way, for once.

The life I’d led before coming back had been enough to get me by, but I still lived in fear.

I still lived without the man I loved. I’d gone on crying for years, sometimes without being sure why.

I went on not processing any emotions, living like a butterfly clinging to its hollowed chrysalis in a world that terrified me.

I’d lied and cheated my way through just to get by.

Done it for so long, I wasn’t sure how to be any different.

But being back with Carver made me realize that I was more than that.

I didn’t have to lie to him. Didn’t have to find some workaround to get by.

He loved me for me, even if I was a bit of a tough pill to swallow.

Grant wasn’t at our house when we got back, and shortly after, Sophia decided it was time to head home. I must’ve laid on the couch for nearly an hour or more, just staring up at the ceiling, when a knock sounded at the front door.

“Roland?” a postman asked as I peeled the door open.

“Yeah. Mrs.”

“Envelope is for Mr. Roland.” He glanced at my ring. “Can you sign?” He thrust a small device between us, then held out the envelope when I was done signing. “Have a good one.”

I was already busy reading the name at the top before he had a chance to leave the porch. I ripped it open, taking in the typed words on the rather thick packet—skimming it like I’d done with our marriage contract.

I sat back on the couch, reading it over, checking each line, almost sure I’d catch one that was missing. But I didn’t. All lines were filled, all signed by Jamie—signing over his rights to Oak Heart Farms.