Cason
For a change, Lily talks very little while she’s making dinner. I could stay in my room and just join her when it’s time to eat, but I want to keep an eye on her since it seems every goddamned security asshole working at this house feels the need to just fucking pop in whenever they want to. This is supposed to be a week off for me. Well, except for having to watch over Lily until her father does the right thing. Instead, it’s turned into a hassle because of Nate and Doc.
Fucking dwarf asshole.
She probably likes talking to him just like she’s into talking to that jackass Nate. Doc probably told her one of his stupid stories about his exciting life as a security guard for an estate in the middle of goddamned nowhere. She probably laughed at his stupid jokes, too.
I watch her at the stove as she stirs the vegetables in the pot. She just stands there and stares at it like some zombie. Probably wishing Doc or his buddy Nate were here to join us so she could return to her chatty self.
No wonder my father rarely comes out here. There’s no peace to be had in this place with his security staff wandering in and out whenever they damn well feel like it. Although they most likely don’t do that to him when he’s around. He gets peace and quiet.
Meanwhile, I get a fucking conga line of assholes parading in and out when I’m not watching. You’d swear they don’t know what my job is, for Christ’s sake. It’s not like I’d bring a girl out here just for the freaking scenery. This isn’t a romantic getaway for Lily and me. We aren’t playing house like Victor suggested either. She’s my fucking captive, so why are these shitheads acting like they should be coming up here and talking her up to pass the damn time?
“Is it almost ready?” I ask, needing to talk so my mind doesn’t get fixated on her talking to them again.
I haven’t been able to think of anything else since Doc caught me driving back onto the property and told me about meeting Lily this morning. He had a smug look on his face as he leaned down into the driver’s side window to tell me. Like strolling up to the house to check her out would ever be okay.
Then he mentioned how Nate said she’s sweet. I wanted to pull my gun out and blast his fucking head off right out the damn window. What Lily is or isn’t is none of their concern.
She turns around as all of this runs through my head and forces herself to smile back at me. “Almost.”
I’ve already figured out when her smiles aren’t genuine. They don’t go all the way up to her eyes and make them light up. Her eyes light up when she’s truly happy and truly angry. I admit, I’ve seen most of the second type, but when she looked at her father back at their house, those dark eyes of hers lit up with happiness for him.
Not that I give a fuck about how genuine or not her smiles are when she’s dealing with me. It doesn’t matter. Smile. Don’t smile. I don’t care. Just don’t talk constantly and give me a headache.
“Is it just the two of us tonight? I don’t know if I’ve made enough for anyone else.”
I hear the hope in her voice. She wants one or both of those security guard assholes to come up to eat with us. Like we should all sit down around the dining room table and eat a meal together as if we love having guests.
Rage courses through me like someone just injected me with pure anger. “I just told you not to ever speak to them again, and now you ask me if anyone else is joining us for goddamned dinner? I swear to God you have a death wish, Lily.”
Her smile instantly disappears, replaced by a deep frown that pulls her eyebrows in toward her nose and makes her look like the saddest goddamned person I’ve ever seen. I swear the girl has no filter on her emotions.
“I didn’t mean them. I just figured I should ask if you were going to have anyone else here when we eat. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Ignoring her apology, I point at the jar of sauce on the counter to her right. “Is that the jar of sauce with meat in it from last night?”
She nods, still sad looking. “Yes. I didn’t cook pasta, though. You didn’t say you wanted that again.”
This whole conversation makes me want to kill someone. I don’t give a fuck about sauce or pasta. I don’t give a fuck about any of this. All I want is to eat dinner and then give Lily what I bought her today. Is that so much to ask?
“Do you want me to cook up some pasta too? I can make that in a few minutes,” she says sweetly, but I’ve already moved on from the sauce and pasta topic and back to Doc and his stupid face in my window telling me how right Nate was about her being sweet.
“How long was Doc up here today?” I ask, and then a thought occurs to me.
Was he with Lily all morning? Is that why she was sleeping when I got back here? Did he fuck her while I was out on a job?
I’m out of my seat and standing next to her at the counter before she can get the words out of her mouth. “Answer me! How long was he here?” I bark, frightening her.
She shakes her head and backs away from me, but I follow her. “Just a few minutes. It’s not like he was here to help me or anything. I told you he didn’t give a damn about me.”
“Is that why you were asleep when I got back? Did you spend all morning in bed fucking him?” I ask as I scan her body for any hint that he touched her.
Her eyes grow wide, and in them I see the shock register at my question. But is it shock because I found out about what they did together or shock because it never happened?
“No! Did he say that? Because it didn’t happen. He was only here for a few minutes, and then he left. I swear, Cason,” she says in a panic, her head continually shaking the basic answer of no to my question.
I walk toward her as the vegetables begin to boil over onto the stove, but I don’t care. At this moment, all I care about is knowing what happened between Lily and Doc.
“What did he say to you? Tell me now, Lily,” I demand before stopping just inches away from her, trapping her in the corner of the room.
For a second, she doesn’t say a word, and then her answer spills out of her mouth. “He thought I must have convinced you to let me live an extra week, but I told him that wasn’t true. I didn’t do anything. Then he said you aren’t the type to let people live, so I must have done something to make you want to let me live. That’s it. I swear.”
Her voice hitches on the last words, so I lean in close and say in a low voice, “Are you sure you two didn’t talk about anything else?”
She shakes her head no but then stops as her eyes flash the truth. They did talk about something else. What was it?
“I asked him what he did here at the estate and he told me he works in security. He said he was gone on vacation or something for the past few days and asked me how long I’d been here. That was it. I swear.”
“If I find out you did anything with him or Nate…”
My threat hangs in the air between us, unfinished for a long moment, before she shakes her head again. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
Before I can stop myself, the question rattling around in my head comes out. “Why not?”
And with that, tears begin to roll down her cheeks. Between sobs, she answers, “Why not? I’m being held hostage here. I’m not here to be having sex with every guy who shows his face in this house.”
Behind me, the water from the pot splashes onto the hot burner, and Lily pokes her head around me. “Cason, the beans are going to burn. I need to go over and take them off the heat.”
I step aside, and she hurries over to the stove. Grabbing the pot with her bare hand, she releases it a second later, and it crashes to the floor. Scalding hot water splashes everywhere, and she collapses onto the floor clutching her right hand and crying.
She looks like a broken bird some animal has left for dead sitting there like that in a heap on the ground, and I can’t help but feel bad for her as she sobs. I walk through the water all over the floor and lift her up into my arms.
Holding her hand up in front of her, she cries, “I didn’t mean to drop the pot. It’s just that I was in such a hurry that I forgot to grab an oven mitt, and my hand got burned.”
Her explanation drifts in one ear and out the other as I carry her to the guest bathroom nearby. I set her down on her feet and search through the vanity, but there’s nothing to help her burned hand.
I turn back to look at her staring at her red palm. “There’s nothing here for first aid. You’re going to have to run your hand under the cold water and hope that helps.”
The look she gives me seems strange, like she doesn’t understand why I’m saying that. I guide her over to the sink and turn on the cold water before pushing her hand under the stream.
“Let it sit under there for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” she asks in a voice that verges on panic once again.
“To clean things up. Keep your hand under there until I get back.”
She starts to ask another question, but I leave the bathroom and head back to the kitchen. In the time we’ve been gone, the potatoes have overcooked and splattered all over the stovetop and counter next to the pot. Carefully leaning over the still hot burner where the beans had been, I turn all of them off.
As I scoop up the vegetables off the floor and toss them into the garbage, I can’t help but wonder if taking Lily was a mistake. She’s done nothing but irritate me, and now I’m stuck cleaning up her messes.
Not that she’s been a total disaster. Fucking her wasn’t bad. And her cooking usually tastes better than the food that ended up on the floor. And that talking of hers has settled down so she isn’t filling up every goddamned moment we’re around each other with words.
By the time I get everything cleaned up and return to the bathroom, she’s still standing at the sink with her hand under the cold water. Surprised she hasn’t moved, I turn it off and grab a towel from the shelf behind me.
“Why did you leave it under the water for so long? You’re practically waterlogged,” I say as I pat her palm with the towel.
Lily doesn’t answer, so I look up to see her staring at me. Fear fills her eyes, although I don’t know why.
“What?”
“You told me to keep my hand under the water until you got back. That’s why I kept it there so long,” she finally says in a shaky voice that barely contains the tears ready to begin again.
As I dry her hand, holding it in my own, I have to admit sometimes she does listen to what I tell her to do. She still cries too much, but maybe I can understand that.
“Well, you’ll be fine. It’s just a little burn. So you won’t be able to do anything for a few days. You’ll be back to normal soon enough.”
Tossing the towel onto the vanity, I catch a glimpse of the two of us in the mirror. She looks so helpless standing there, and even stranger to my eye is how helpful I look.
Lily gives a smile that barely lifts the corners of her mouth. “I’m left-handed, so I’ll be fine. It just hurts a lot right now.”
“So no dinner tonight. Guess I’m going to have to run for something,” I say as I let go of her hand and walk back toward the kitchen.
“Can I come with you? I’ve been stuck in your apartment or this house for two days.”
I look back at her and shake my head. “No. You have to stay here.”
And just like that, whatever kindness that exists inside me retreats to its usual hiding place. She doesn’t respond, remaining silent as I head toward the front door to leave. It’s hard not to notice that in just two days, while she’s been held she’s also learned not to ask twice for things she can’t have.
I’m impressed with how quickly she’s picked up on that. A far more stubborn girl her age would still be fighting me tooth and nail. Maybe I underestimated Lily.
She eats the fast food I bring back without a single complaint, even though it’s nearly ice cold by the time I drive the twenty-five miles back from the restaurant. I watch her baby her right hand, laying it on the island countertop as she eats only with her left hand. She’s a crier, for sure, but there’s strength inside her, too.
When we finish eating, I ask her, “Did you go up to your room while I was gone?”
“No. I sat here with my throbbing hand.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I wanted to know if you went upstairs?” I ask, a little thrown off my game by her sudden lack of questions.
Lily sadly shakes her head. “There’s no point. You don’t like me talking so much, and you aren’t going to tell me anything unless you want to, so why bother asking?”
The defeat in her expression also fills her voice. Two days and she’s given up. I thought she was stronger than that.
For a few minutes, we sit silently across from one another, but her gaze is fixed on her hand. Mine, though, focuses on her. Dressed in the same clothes she was wearing when I took her from her home, she looks different than she did yesterday. Maybe it’s the lack of makeup, although she looks identical to when she wore it. I’m not sure what’s different, but she doesn’t look the same.
Then I remember the surprise I brought back for her. Standing from the stool, I toss the wrappers from our dinner into the garbage as she continues to stare down at her red hand.
“Come upstairs with me, Lily.”
She stands up without a word and not a single question leaves her lips, even though at this moment I’d like her to ask why or where we’re going. She simply walks next to me, letting out a single sigh as we climb the stairs together toward my room.
Finally, as we walk past her bedroom door, she asks, “Why are we going to your room?”
I know what she’s thinking, but that’s not what’s on my mind at the moment. Maybe later, though.
Turning to look down at her upturned face, her eyes staring up at me with that curiosity I knew couldn’t have been completely extinguished in merely two days, I answer her question. “Because I have something for you. Remember?”
Her response is less than thrilling. She doesn’t say anything or even smile. Lily simply nods and sighs a second time, and I can’t help but decide I don’t like this quiet version of her.
I open my door for her and guide her into the room where clothes lay on the bed. Two pair of yoga pants just like the ones she wears, four T-shirts in pink, black, light blue, and white that I thought would look nice on her, and five pair of underwear I had to get the person at the store to help me with because women’s underwear are sized completely differently than their pants, although I have no idea why.
When Lily doesn’t say anything, I explain, “They’re for you. So you don’t have to wear the same clothes all week.”
Still, she remains silent, so I add, “With the clothes you have now being washed once downstairs in the washer, you won’t have to wear anything more than for one day.”
She stares at the bed for a long moment before turning to look at me with utter confusion in her expression. “You bought me clothes to wear while I’m here?”
“Yes. You were going to start to smell, and I didn’t want to have to deal with that.”
It’s not the truth, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Lily opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. After the second time she tries to say something, she finally asks, “You bought your captive clothes? Is that how this usually goes?”
That question she can have the truth to.
“No,” I say flatly. “I usually just kill people and don’t bother taking anyone captive.”
What I get in return for the clothes and my answer is another sigh. I don’t know if she’s happy or not by what I’ve done.
Well, at least she won’t start to stink the place up. I hadn’t bought the clothes for that reason, but it will have to do for the time being.
