Each of the three fans they owned was set to full blast, but all the whirring blades did was simply push the heavy, hot summer air around. Even Mr. Calabash, Lily’s beloved stuffed animal, looked as if he was sweltering in his plush skin. The tattered bison had been repaired so many times over the years that it resembled a Franken-animal, but Lily couldn’t part with it. It was the only thing she remembered her father giving to her.
The air conditioner was only on when Rey was home, to save on electricity. With only Rey’s paycheck as a security guard coming in for the next two months until the new school term began, they had to stretch every dollar.
The bruises that Rey had left on her arm were finally fading. That had been his response to finding out that she’d paid for coffee when she hung out with her one remaining friend, Lucie. It didn’t matter that this was the one time Lucie let her pay, after all the times Lucie picked up the tab. It only mattered that Lily and Rey shared the same checking and credit card accounts. Which meant that the only expenses were the ones that Rey approved of. The residual ache in her arm from where she tried to block Rey’s fist was the latest reminder.
She looked at her phone, thinking of Lucie, and sighed. It was only four-thirty. Her best friend would be at work for another hour at least. Lily wasn’t friends enough with her co-workers to call just to shoot the breeze, not that she could with her limited phone plan minutes anyway. She stuck the phone into her back pocket, a useless weight for the time being.
For the thousandth time, Lily missed working with the kids in the kindergarten where she taught. Or having any work at all to occupy her time. The summer camp in the rec center nearby wasn’t able to hire her due to budget cuts, and Rey wouldn’t let her apply for a job at a sleep away camp, because then he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her. Or would miss her. He used the phrases interchangeably. It meant the same thing: she was trapped.
Lily had loved that feeling of protectiveness once, until it became a form of captivity. With nothing but time on her hands today, she wondered when her world had gotten so small, so isolated from anything that Rey didn’t approve of.
Maybe it was when her mother died of cancer, after months of the illness taking over both their lives. Rey was her rock during that time. He took care of everything, made all the decisions about details that she was too numb to. He held her hand as she honored her mother’s request to Do Not Resuscitate, and stayed with her until that terrible long, flat beep of the last machine was finally turned off.
Maybe it was when he stood by her side at the funeral, as relatives she didn’t know gave her their vague condolences, and friends came by to pay their respects. Friends she had lost touch with, while her life revolved around the ending of her mother’s. An orderly parade of people exiting her life.
Just like her dad.
Maybe it was when she numbly agreed to have Rey pack up her meager belongings and move in with him, to his apartment kitted out with exactly what you would imagine someone with an Other Than Honorable military discharge to have for decorations.
That was slightly more than two years ago.
Lily was so grateful to have his strength to cling to at first, as she found new purpose in living, teaching preschoolers their first attempts at reading and writing, especially if English was their second language. In the neighborhood the school was in, she was often the only person who gave them consistent encouragement and loads of caring attention. In providing them with hope for a brighter future, the kids saved her life.
Lily would do anything to help kids.
The beatings started later. The first times he was drunk, and apologized profusely afterwards. He was under stress from his various jobs, the security one hanging by a thread, his boss always on his case. She could understand that. He would weep while folding her bruised body into his muscled arms. Didn’t she know she was his everything? He would die without her. And she would end up believing somehow that if she did a little better, tried a little harder, loved him a little bit more, that it wouldn’t happen again.
She kept trying, as her world slowly closed in around her.
In the few days since the school term ended, she’d cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, twice already. The stovetop was gleaming, the bathroom disinfected to such a point that surgery could be performed there. The sink was filled with soaking pots and pans that she would restore to their shiny, fresh-out-of-the-box condition, even though she had bought them second-hand years ago.
She had even made sure all the batteries and the first aid supplies in both their go-bags were up to date. Rey had insisted on their being prepared for emergency evacuation, and laughed at having a katana as a wall decoration. Just like in The Walking Dead, he would be prepared for a zombie Apocalypse. If nothing else, it made a safe place to keep her photos of her mother, a fading photo of her father and her 5 year old self, and her cherished letter from the great state of Colorado, stating that she was qualified to teach early childhood education. Unfortunately that letter she worked so hard to get would be gathering dust in her go-bag for the rest of the summer.
She had considered volunteering at the library, but the gas or bus fare would suck up funds. It was too hot to bake, one of her favorite hobbies, and there was only so much TV she could watch, or paperbacks to read in the sweltering heat. No internet, since Rey took his laptop with him and her phone was the most basic model she could afford.
Lily sighed. She hated being idle. If she was going to read, she might as well do it while at the laundromat about five minutes away by car. She’d grab one of the latest mysteries from one of her favorite authors that Lucie had lent her, and hopefully find a cool enough spot to lose herself in a whodunit while the machines completed their cycles. She was lucky to have similar tastes in books as her friend Lucie. In fact, they were so similar that Lucie jokingly referred to her as “the sister from a different mister.”
They looked enough alike, with their wavy chestnut hair, warm brown eyes and dimples that deepened whenever their lush lower lips curled into smiles. They even dressed the same, since Lucie would give her clothes that she claimed she couldn’t -or wouldn’t- wear any more. With Lucie’s love of shopping, she made it seem like Lily was doing her a favor by taking them.
Rey probably allowed her to keep Lucie as a friend because he made Lily sell off the more valuable castoffs.
She had enough change set aside for two loads, lights and darks, so she started to sort through the hamper—a fancy name for the cheap plastic trash bin that had been repurposed to hold their dirty clothing. In this heat, and Rey’s almost daily workouts, it was unsurprising that the piles of soiled clothing grew like a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
At last she reached the bottom of the hamper, and it moved easily as she leaned in. It also seemed to butt up against something soft behind it. Perhaps a towel had fallen there?
Lily tilted the plastic bin forward and reached for it. Not a towel. She frowned slightly as she pulled out a canvas duffel bag, roughly the size of one of Rey’s shoe boxes. It was black, and completely unfamiliar. The bag was also stuffed halfway with something light.
Maybe it was something Rey was using for his workouts — sometimes he met up with some ex-Army buddies for pick up games.
That must be it. She started to unzip it, to see if there was anything that needed laundering inside, and then she’d be ready to go.
Except there weren’t socks or compression sleeves inside.
Her fingers froze, as disbelief flooded her system. She forced herself to continue pulling down the zipper, as her mind kept refusing to believe the input from her eyes.
Little resealable bags with a cartoon crocodile printed on transparent plastic. The grinning reptile rippled over the red crystals that filled each small, deadly sack. Blood drained from her face. It couldn’t be.
The Rage, a drug that had been sweeping through poorer neighborhoods, like the one where she lived and taught. The drug that dealers were known to be selling to
all ages, even grade school kids.
How could Rey be involved with this? All he had ever talked about was getting into law enforcement, a step up from his current jobs, after his failed stint in the army.
And he knew how Lily felt about kids. About her kids, that she had felt particularly protective of because of the conditions in which they were raised, the environments which their parents fought to survive.
How could he bring something like this into their home?
As if he were summoned, Lily heard the sounds of the lock turning at the door. She was already moving towards the kitchen where the entrance was before realizing it, the open bag in her hand, and a determined look on her face.
“Querida, I don’t have time for dinner—” Rey stopped mid-sentence, Lily standing in front of him. She felt his eyes first registering the uncharacteristic angry expression on her face and stiff set of her shoulders. And then his eyes fell on the duffel bag, the contents open to view.
Instantly his face closed up, his eyes narrowing.
“What the hell, Rey?” Lily’s voice was loud, but she didn’t care. She thrust the bag at him, her arms shaking.
He grabbed the bag from her, tossing it easily to the side before he took a wide stance, his 6’1” muscular build easily towering over her. She fought the instinct to cower. She had to stand up to him. For her kids. For all kids in the neighborhood.
This crossed a line she had never known needed to be drawn.
“You don’t take that tone with me, querida.” His sneer made the term of endearment a mockery.
Lily mustered up as much calm as she could. She had to reason with him. She lowered her voice, as she would with her pre-schoolers when they were upset.
“I’m sorry, Rey. It’s just a shock. You know how I feel about drugs.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But ask me if I care.” He moved towards her and she stepped back involuntarily.
It didn’t matter. One of his hands whipped out to clamp down viciously on her upper arm, and the open palm of the other slammed into the side of her head before she could even move to block it.
“Rey, no—!”
He propelled her against the wall, her body making a loud thud as it connected, underneath her cries and screams for him to stop.
As his knee rammed into her stomach, her phone flew out of her back pocket, hitting the floor. It chose that moment to come alive, ringing and lighting up as Lucie’s face filled the screen.
Rey bellowed with rage, the veins in his neck standing out in harsh relief.
“Didn’t I tell you that bitch is no good for you?”
Lily screamed as he stomped the ringing phone with one steel-toed boot, smashing the screen, the jagged lines of broken glass warping her friend’s face into a billion fragments. And even that wasn’t enough.
He swooped down to grab the piece of hardware and she flinched, expecting him to strike her with it. Instead, he hurled it into the sink, where it entered like a missile in between the soaking pots and pans to a watery death.
Rey stood there, heaving. And then he turned to Lily who shrank with fear at his clenched fists and face, still mottled with rage. Long moments passed, the ticking of the kitchen clock as loud as a snare drum. Rey looked at it, and cursed. Lily cringed, and he returned his glare to her.
“Fucking bitch, you’ve made me late.”
Only in this universe would it be Lily’s fault that Rey had to take time out to beat her.
“I came home to get this, so I could deliver it before my shift begins tonight.” He picked up the black duffel bag where it lay, and then turned to Lily, an evil smile on his face.
“Jerry’s on my left nut about being late. I’m already on two strikes so you know what, baby girl? You’re going to have to make this drop off for me.”
No!
He shoved the bag into her hands before she could get the word out from between her swollen, possibly split lips.
“None of your backtalk, querida. You made this mess, now you’re going to have to fix it. They’re expecting this drop off at the Chupacabra Lounge, basement bar. Ask for Sid.”
Rey’s arm shot out, squeezing the bruises from his earlier death grip as Lily began sobbing again, clutching the bag. She flinched as he rubbed her cheek with his other hand.
“Wear a pretty dress, querida,” he said, as if he hadn’t just beaten the shit out of her. “And don’t disappoint me again.”
He patted her bruised cheek, releasing her, whistling as if they were in a freaking Disney movie. She was still holding the bag as he turned and left, the door slamming behind him and his tuneless whistling.
The sound of the engine starting in his car broke her trance, and she began to move. Before getting some ice or frozen peas to put on her face, there was one thing she had to do.
She thought of the children’s faces, all of those innocents who just finished preschool with her, eager and excited about going to the First Grade in a few short months. She couldn’t —wouldn’t — let any of them fall prey to drugs.
She shuffled stiffly, bag in hand, like one of the zombies from The Walking Dead. And just like a mindless creature animated by who-knows-what, she made her way to the bathroom, raising the lid of the toilet before upending the open duffel bag over it.
She had the presence of mind to release small batches at a time into the bowl, depressing the tank lever and watching the whirlpool of drugs disappearing into the abyss. Fitting metaphor for what her life had become. Flush and repeat.
Over and over until the duffel bag hung limply from her hand. She shuffled back into the kitchen, without even enough energy to drop the bag, intent on getting some ice for her face.
There was a knocking on the door. “Girl, let me in!”
Lucie.
She turned the knob and let her friend in, floating on a cloud of fragrance and excited chatter.
“Girl, I was calling to say I got out of work early and—”
Her best friend stood in shock, her jaw falling to her chest.
“What the fuck, Lily? That asshole do this to you?”
She nodded, and finally dropped the emptied duffel back on the floor. Lucie took action immediately, setting her handbag on the kitchen table, and herding Lily into a chair. She grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer, cursing Rey in between barking out her outrage.
“You’ve got to get out of here, Lily. That asshole’s done this for the last time.”
“I—I have nowhere to go.” Lily’s voice was quiet, the dish-towel wrapped bag of frozen peas pressed up against her temple. If she changed the side she parted her hair on, she could hide the bruise. The thought drifted through her dazed mind as she slumped in the chair, stunned.
How was this her life?
“Bull puckey,” Lucie said. She took in the disarray in the kitchen, the phone that was immersed in the sink between the pots and pans. “You have those relatives that flew in for your mom’s funeral — San Diego, I think. Let’s get you to my place tonight, we can call them from there, and get you on the road tomorrow morning.”
Rey would come after Lily for sure, especially once he discovered what she had done with the drugs. Lily couldn’t bring that kind of trouble to Lucie’s family. Lucie lived in a small two story house on the other side of Denver, with her invalid grandmother, mother and younger sister.
And Lucie didn’t even know yet about The Rage.
“Can’t go to your place.” As her best friend opened her mouth to argue, Lily dropped the bomb. “Rey’s dealing. I just flushed the drugs down the toilet.”
“Shit. Shiiiiiit.” Lucie put one hand on the back of her neck, rubbing it as if that would free up the headache that was starting to build. She paced back and forth in the tiny kitchen, until she came to a complete stop in front of Lily.
“You can’t stay here, you’re going to have to get going as fast and far away as you can. ASAP.” Lily looked at the resolute features on her friend’s face, so very much like her own, yet
committing them to memory all the same.
She really was leaving. It was starting to sink in. She had no choice. Rey would kill her if he found out what she’d done with the drugs. Tears filled her eyes, and Lucie’s face softened.
“I’m going to help you pack. You do what you need to do to get ready. And you call me when you get there.” Lucie pulled out all the cash from her Coach wallet, wincing at how little there was, and transferring it into the shabby Target canvas purse that had seen better days. She also pulled out her driver’s license.
“I know that Rey’s got some shady friends who’ll try to track you down, so I’m going to give you my driver’s license to use until you can get settled, in case you need it.”
Lily blinked away her tears. “I can’t let you do that. What are you going to do without a driver’s license?”
“I’ll get a replacement,” Lucie shrugged. “And in the meantime I’ll drive really carefully so I don’t get pulled over. The important thing is to get you someplace safe, as fast as possible.”
“I don’t know what to say, Lucie.”
“You’re welcome,” Lucie smirked, her good humor returning as she shifted into action mode. She picked up the duffel bag and raced around the small apartment, stuffing in clothing from the dresser drawers, toiletries from the bathroom and even Mr. Calabash, knowing how important he was. She was a whirlwind, inspiring Lily to stiffly get up.
Lily grabbed her go-bag, with the few photos that she couldn’t leave behind. Lucie appeared by her side.
“Time’s a-wasting. I wish I had plastic for you—” They both knew that Lucie was currently maxed out, and not carrying credit or debit cards to help curb her spending.
“It’s ok. It’s already more than enough.” Lily’s voice was shaking. “I’ll pay you back—”
“Whatever.” Lucie’s voice was gruff. Goodbyes were hard. “Let’s get you on the road.”
Lily allowed her friend to frog-march her to her POS car, a crappy Ford Fiesta from another decade, already with a billion miles on it when she got it to drive her mother back and forth to her chemo treatments.
Col: His Destined Mate Page 2
