‘Do you do this a lot? Sit in a dark closet and listen to music?’ The moment I asked, I shook my head, knowing she wouldn’t have the answer.
‘I don’t know. But I like it. I like hiding from the world like this.’
‘The world? Or just assholes like me?’
She didn’t blink, continuing as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘What’s your favorite color, Billy?’
‘Navy blue.’
‘And your favorite drink?’
‘Coke. Yes, I know. It’s bad for me.’
She grinned. ‘Yes. It is bad for you. What’s your favorite memory?’
I bit the inside of my lip. Her eyes seemed so sad. ‘I was spending the weekend at my uncle and aunty’s—Leila’s folks. We had just moved house, because of my parents’ divorce, and Mum was really upset that she had to leave all her fruit trees behind. That weekend I asked my aunt if she could take me to the nursery. I was eleven, with twenty bucks to my name, but I spent it all on one lemon tree. I gave it to Mum when she picked me up, told her we could start again at the new house with this one tree. It was the first time since my dad left that I’d seen her smile like that. Like she had hope again.’
Lucy locked her glazed eyes on mine and gave me a small, broken smile. ‘How many fruit trees does she have now?’
‘Seventeen,’ I said, inhaling a deep breath.
The tension inside the closet grew until my entire body tingled with anticipation.
But Lucy broke the moment, bringing me back to reality.
‘Good news about your leg,’ she said. ‘Back to work in two weeks, hey?’
‘Yep.’
She nodded, but her mind seemed elsewhere. I knew what she was thinking.
‘Lucy …’ You don’t have to leave. I don’t mind if you stay. Where would you go, anyway?
‘Yes?’ she prompted.
I didn’t say anything else, and she let out a weak laugh. ‘You do that a lot, you know. Say my name, then nothing else.’
It was the first time it had felt wrong to call her Lucy. It was the first time I wanted to know her real name.
‘It’s okay,’ she said so quietly I barely heard her. ‘I said I’d be gone before you started work, and I’ll be gone.’
I swallowed hard. ‘Where will you go?’
Her nonchalant shrug made me nervous. ‘Just … go.’
The color of her eyes intensified to dark blue, and she reached her hand toward my face but dropped it back into her lap. ‘You have beautiful skin. Just like Lillian’s.’
She edged closer, and her breath breezed over my lips. My fingers tingled, demanding they reach over and touch her, but I clasped them together and resisted.
I knew nothing about her.
She knew nothing about herself.
And yet, all I wanted was to feel every inch of her body.
11
Her
I stood naked in front of the mirror in my ensuite and stared at the pubic hair growing wild around my vagina.
Hidden beneath the bush was my tattoo.
Reaching for the shaver, I lathered soap and shaved the hair off until I was bald. I’d avoided looking at my tattoo until this moment. It had freaked me out, even if it was pretty, perhaps a little edgy. I traced each intricate line with my finger. The touch ignited something, and deep inside me, something tingled. I slipped my fingers further down, and the tingling grew to a burning need.
Oh, God, I wanted to be touched.
Closing my eyes, I circled my fingers over my clit as it throbbed. I longed to have someone pressed against me, touching me, their weight heavy on top of me. But I craved touch so much it didn’t matter that I was touching myself.
Slipping my free hand over my breast, I caressed my nipple, and it hardened against my palm. I squeezed in unison with my rubbing until I pushed myself to the brink, biting my lip to suppress my moan. It took less than a minute, and pleasure rippled through me, leaving me breathless and weak.
Outside, Billy called me for breakfast, but I knew my red-flushed cheeks would give me away, so I waited.
Billy.
He did something to me, something I couldn’t control. And when he wandered around the apartment in nothing but his boxers, my eyes had a mind of their own. They studied him so that when I was alone, I could recreate the image of his semi-naked body, picturing my hands gliding over his delicious-looking skin.
So that when I slipped my fingers inside myself, I could pretend it was him.
I imagined his big hands cupping my breasts. Would he mind how small they were? If he dated women like Gabby, with her gorgeous hourglass figure and generous breasts, no doubt he would find my pale and angular body subpar in comparison. What would he think of my tattoo? If he went down on me, his mouth sucking me in, his tongue licking and stroking, would the tattoo turn him on? Would it repulse him?
No. I never wanted him to see it. I never wanted anyone to see it.
I shook my head, wondering why I was entertaining the thought of Billy touching me like that.
Being lonely and broken did weird things to me.
I walked out of my bedroom just as someone knocked on the front door. I answered it to see Lillian.
Someone walked inside behind her. He towered over her, over all of us—six foot two at least, with perfectly styled hair, clean-shaven jaw, and wide hazel eyes. His crisp white collared shirt clung to his body, outlining the defined ridges of his sculpted abs and bulging biceps.
This man was a tank.
Lillian smiled the way she always did—in a way that wrapped me up in a warm, welcoming cocoon. In a way that allowed me to entertain the idea that I mattered to someone. That I existed.
‘You look so much better this morning!’ she sang at me.
‘Thanks.’
Showering and applying what little makeup I had helped with that.
Billy leaned against the kitchen table, eyeing off Tank Man. Clearly, Billy hadn’t expected to see him—whoever he was. I couldn’t help but look at Tank Man myself. The top button on his shirt was undone, giving him a somewhat relaxed vibe. Still, there was something intimidating about him. Something authoritarian.
Perhaps it was because he was built like a truck.
Lillian must’ve noticed my curiosity because she gestured to him. ‘This is Blake. He’s a detective.’
That explained his unreserved air of confidence.
I sat opposite Lillian in the armchair. She sat beside Blake on the couch. Billy didn’t budge, nor did he take his eyes off Tank Man. I couldn’t look at Billy, not after what I’d imagined him doing to me less than ten minutes ago.
Blake cleared his throat and gave me a stiff smile. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
Again?
My blank expression must have indicated my confusion because Lillian stepped in. ‘Blake visited you at the hospital a few times in the early days. It’s fine if you don’t remember.’
Her voice could’ve lulled me to sleep. Nothing ever sounded as reassuring as when Lillian explained something, so soft and gentle. So calming.
It still surprised me that she was Billy’s sister.
‘We’ve finally had a breakthrough with your case.’
Blake sat rigid, making him appear bigger than he already was. His gaze dropped to my left wrist, and I instinctively clasped my arm to hide my scars.
‘The train you were on when you arrived at Central Station was from interstate. It had come from Brisbane, but we found security footage of you boarding that train in Maitland. And you were carrying a bag.’
My heart stopped. I turned and stared at Billy, but he tightened his jaw and looked at the ground.
A million thoughts scrambled in my mind.
‘So, I come from Maitland?’
Maitland. A town way north of Sydney.
‘Not necessarily,’ Blake replied. ‘That simply could’ve been the closest train station to where you live. Or you could’ve been traveling through—there are many possibilities. Bu
t now that we have an interstate train number, we can access the passenger records and find your details through the process of elimination. Also, since security footage shows you were carrying a bag when you boarded at Maitland, but not when you got off at Central Station, we can safely assume your bag was stolen from you at some point while you were on the train.’
This should’ve been the update I’d been waiting for, but panic settled over me, making the news too big to digest. I stared vacantly at Blake, who looked at me like he was waiting on a response, but I didn’t know what to say.
Lillian rescued us from the silence. ‘This is pretty big news,’ she said, addressing me. ‘There’s a real possibility we’ll discover your identity in the next few weeks. Take some time to let that sink in, and we can discuss how you feel about it when you’re ready. If you have any questions, perhaps Blake can answer them for you over the phone.’
Blake’s gaze fell on Lillian, and he seemed transfixed. The longer she spoke, the more intense his focus on her became.
‘Will that be okay, Blake?’ Lillian offered him a gentle smile, and he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.
‘Of course,’ he replied.
I glanced at Billy. He was piercing Blake with a death stare.
Clearly, he’d noticed the look Blake had given Lillian, too.
‘If your bag was stolen,’ Lillian continued, ‘it would explain why you were asking for a police station when you arrived at Central Station.’
I nodded, fully aware of my blank expression.
Blake leaned across the coffee table, looking me square in the eyes. ‘Don’t you worry, we’ll find out who you are. We’ll get you home. And we’ll do it as quickly as we can.’
I fought every temptation to look at Billy. But I knew he was glaring at me. I felt it.
Lillian stood against the kitchen bench, nursing a mug of coffee. Billy still hadn’t moved even though Blake had left ten minutes ago.
I sat on my own at the dining table.
I should have felt something. The information Blake delivered was the first real breakthrough in five weeks. But instead, I tucked the news away, pushing it neatly into a far, but easily accessible, corner of my brain.
I would deal with the news. Eventually. I just couldn’t do that right now.
‘Blake likes you,’ I said to Lillian.
With a bashful laugh, she shook her head, her eyes glittery. ‘No, no, no.’
‘Why wouldn’t he?’ I asked. ‘You’re beautiful.’
Billy dropped into the seat opposite mine at the dining table, still not saying a word.
Lillian giggled with the innocence of a child, and her face flushed a subtle shade of pink. ‘You’re very sweet. But even if he did find me attractive, I’m not sure he’s my type. He’s so … huge.’
If anyone fit the stereotype of a muscular, strong man in authority, it was Blake—biceps and abs that rippled through his shirt, short-shaved hair, a chiseled jaw. He seemed about ten years older than Lillian, perhaps in his mid to late thirties. Definitely a divorcee—it was written all over him.
Lillian had a body that would suit someone like Blake, voluptuous and curvy in all the right places. I would break under someone like him. Even if it would be nice to be beneath someone so big, I couldn’t imagine being able to breathe under all his muscle.
My thoughts somehow escaped my mouth in a whisper. ‘Can you imagine being underneath him? Under all that weight?’
Lillian’s eyes widened until they were bulging, but Billy’s eyes narrowed into a slicing gaze, and an awkward silence drifted between us.
My need for touch had made me mental.
Lillian flicked her thick curls off her shoulder and cleared her throat. ‘Well, maybe you and I could have that chat now?’ she said, gesturing toward my bedroom, which was really her bedroom.
I followed her lead, but not before looking at Billy. His silence was driving me crazy.
‘How did the appointment go yesterday?’ Lillian sat at my bed, eager and obviously anxious at the same time.
I hated the guilt I always felt when I lied to her. Lying to Lillian was the worst thing I’d ever done. I think.
‘I got lost and didn’t make it.’
Her expression dropped. ‘I really should’ve taken you. Perhaps I didn’t emphasize the importance of this appointment.’
‘Lillian …’
How did I say this? How did I politely ask her not to take care of me the way she felt she needed?
‘You do so much for me already. Letting me stay here. Keeping in contact with the police. Providing all my food and toiletries. But, please, let me do this one thing for myself. This thing with my heart. I’ll deal with it.’
She rubbed her forehead, remaining silent for much longer than I was comfortable with. When she finally spoke, her tone was low and desperate. ‘You’re sick, and you need help now. I just can’t understand … I just can’t …’
Lillian shook her head, mumbling the same thing over and over. I just can’t understand, I just can’t understand.
I smiled to break the tension. ‘Blake totally fancies you. He’s good-looking, for a tank.’
A grin rose through her burdened expression. ‘He is pretty good-looking, isn’t he?’
‘Will you ask him out? He’ll be lucky to have you.’
She laughed, and her face lit up. ‘You’re good for my ego. But I’m in a messy situation. I don’t think dating is a good idea.’
Her eyes widened as though something just occurred to her, and reaching into her bag, she pulled out a package. ‘I brought you some supplies.’
Through the clear cellophane wrapping, I saw pads, tampons, shavers, a bar of soap, and … a packet of condoms. I studied the condoms—a pack of forty, ultra-thin, straight shape with reservoir end, smooth surface.
I bit my bottom lip. Where in the world did she imagine I’d be having sex? Definitely not in her bed.
‘You can take the condoms back,’ I said. ‘I won’t be needing them. Let alone forty of them.’
‘We hand out condoms to everyone who comes into our care. Hang onto them.’
I decided I’d give them to Billy. He was so damn uptight he probably needed some action.
Although I couldn’t imagine he’d bring a girl home while I was here. The place was so small he must know I’d hear everything.
Because I did hear everything.
I heard every time he flushed the toilet, every time he sneezed, every time he rolled over in bed. I knew when he was getting a glass of water, when he opened the fridge door, and when he flicked on a light switch. I heard every one of his phone conversations, understanding the ones he had in English. And I knew he was uncomfortable with me being there. I’d heard him that one time on the phone when he told his mates not to come over because he had a strange bird living with him.
I sighed, my shoulders sinking into an embarrassed heap. ‘Lillian, why did you bring me here?’
‘You needed somewhere to stay.’
What she should’ve said was that my flat-out stubbornness and refusal to go into a shelter put her in a crappy position.
She should’ve let me go.
‘Billy’s really copped the raw end of the deal, having me invade his space,’ I said.
‘Why? Has he said something to you?’ She seemed panicked.
‘No.’
She exhaled with relief. ‘Don’t worry about Billy. Trust me, once he gets back to work, he’ll be a different person. You’ll see.’
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. ‘You shouldn’t have brought me here. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay your kindness, and I’m not sure I’ll ever find enough words to explain how appreciative I am. I’ll be gone before Billy returns to work. I just hope that after I’m gone, you’ll find someone that realizes what a beautiful person you are.’
Her cheeks blushed with a tinge of pink, and she smiled. But her face didn’t light up the way it usually did. ‘What
if we don’t discover your identity before Billy returns to work? Without proof of identification, you won’t be able to apply for jobs, get welfare, find a rental property—’
‘It’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out.’
‘Where will you go?’
‘I’ll just … go.’
Lillian’s forehead creased with worry lines, and she looked so much like Billy.
I sat alone in my room long after Lillian had left. Impulsively, I opened the drawer of the side table beside my bed, seeing it filled with Lillian’s things. I wouldn’t rummage, it wasn’t my style to pry, but just as I was about to shut the drawer, a photo caught my eye.
I pulled it out.
The girl had long, light-brown hair, with eyes the same color. Two dimples creased her cheeks either side of her broken smile. She was young, couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. There was something about her, something distant and heartbreaking, and I couldn’t stop staring.
I flipped the photo over, seeing one word written neatly in the top right corner.
Jade.
12
Him
Lucy strolled out of her room and threw a box of condoms onto the coffee table in front of me. She hadn’t been out of her room since Lillian left hours ago.
‘What the hell is that?’ I asked.
‘I’m not going to use them. You have them.’
The TV droned in the background. I sat up and flicked glances between the condoms and Lucy. No doubt Lillian had given them to her.
‘What makes you think I’ll use ’em?’
Lucy’s red t-shirt hung loosely off her shoulder. It was one of the tops Lillian had given to her when she’d first left the hospital. It was so big I could hardly see her shorts beneath the hem. She was all legs.
‘Why wouldn’t you?’ she asked.
‘I’m not dating anyone.’
For a moment, she seemed too stunned to reply.
‘You only have sex with someone if you’re dating?’ she asked in a disbelieving whisper.
Call me Lucy: An Enemies to Lovers romance Page 11
