It Started That Night

by Virna DePaul

Lily bit her lip at the excitement in Ashley’s voice. She had no idea what time John would be back and she didn’t want to miss him. “I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t. Have you asked your mom and dad?”

  “Dad’s working and Mom said she can’t. She’s too busy.”

  “What about Mike’s parents? Can you ask them?”

  “No, no, we already tried.” Ashley’s voice hitched with distress and Lily cringed. Maybe she could run them over— “Wait. Tessa’s father is coming to pick her up. Maybe we can ask him to drive us there. I’m going to call Tessa now. Bye!”

  Lily smiled as she hung up her phone. Ashley had sounded so happy at the thought of going to the movies with Mike. So carefree. Lord, she missed that feeling.

  When someone knocked a few minutes later, Lily frowned. Somehow she didn’t think John would knock so timidly. She opened the door, froze in confusion, then gave her visitor a tentative smile.

  Lily stared at Albert, frowning when she saw something dark on his face. It took her several seconds to register that it was blood. A split second later she noticed the older boys standing behind him.

  “Albert?” she whispered.

  * * *

  John drove the two hours to Lily’s house in an hour and a half. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d seen her at his party close to 9:00 p.m. Three hours before her father had called 911. Did she really not remember that time, or was she covering for something? Or someone?

  Had Lily just wanted Hardesty to tell the truth? Or had she wanted to convince him to keep it hidden?

  Clenching his hands on the steering wheel, he struggled with his helplessness. He was like a blind man feeling around in the dark. Only he was as afraid of stumbling as he was of reaching his destination. The results of the lie detector test couldn’t help her. By not telling the prosecutor she’d seen Hardesty in the park that night, she’d cast a shadow of suspicion over herself that her prison visit had magnified.

  What the hell was he going to do?

  By the time he turned onto Lily’s street, his anger had returned, blocking out his worry. It came crashing back along with a fear he’d never known when he saw Lily struggling with several men.

  * * *

  Lily tried to wrench her arm out of Ernesto’s tight grip as he dragged her onto the porch. When he wouldn’t let go, she drew her arm back and knocked him on the side of the head.

  He released her and she tried to run back inside. Ernesto caught her again and slapped her.

  “No!” Albert yelled.

  Dazed, Lily looked over to where Albert lay. He struggled against the hold of two others.

  Ernesto grabbed her chin, squeezing tightly as he drew it back toward him.

  “You see what you’ve done to him?” He spat out the words, his English thick with his Spanish accent. “He was one of us. Tough. Smart. Now he is just a pussy-loving artist. Art? I don’t buy it.” He released her chin and grabbed the hair at the back of her neck, wrenching it back. “I think he’s whipped because of you.” He grabbed her crotch, squeezing and twisting.

  Lily bared her teeth, rage welling inside her. She believed in Albert, but his “homies” were another story. Fight! She kicked out, trying to knee Ernesto in the face. Her foot glanced off his cheek and he cursed.

  He hit her again, this time a close-fisted punch that made her reel back and struggle to remain conscious. She felt him dragging her toward the house.

  “Bring him, too. Let’s show him what happens to a coward who’d betray his brothers for a woman.”

  Lily tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held her tight, yanking her hair, dragging her across the ground.

  “I didn’t betray you! I haven’t talked to anyone about you.”

  Albert grunted when the boy holding him hit him. Again and again. Until he was barely conscious.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but Ernesto covered her face with a meaty hand, the stench of his skin making her gag.

  A loud explosion made her jerk. Suddenly John was there, his face a mask of panic and rage. She saw Albert’s friends rush him. Tried to open her mouth to scream, but only a hoarse sound came out. John ducked, but the boys tackled him.

  John kicked one of the boys, a ponytailed kid that was almost as wide as he was tall, in the knee, making him collapse and howl in pain. He sent the other boy flying into the bushes. John pulled out his gun just as Ernesto yelled, “Stop, pig!”

  Grabbing Lily by her hair, Ernesto pulled her up on her feet and jabbed her in the throat with a knife. “I’ll kill her, pig.”

  John kept his gun trained on Ernesto, not once glancing at Albert, who lay unmoving on the ground next to him. He shook his head. “Then you’ll be dead, I promise you.”

  “But she’ll die first.” Ernesto jabbed the knife in her throat, making her gasp. She felt a rivulet of blood trail down her skin and into the collar of her shirt.

  “Stop!” John yelled and looked like he was getting ready to put down his gun.

  Their eyes met and Lily shook her head.

  John hesitated, and Ernesto moved his hand.

  Lily lunged forward and bit him, clamping down hard until he howled in pain.

  Ernesto reeled back, but held tight. He punched her in the face and she gasped at the pain. Then he was off her.

  She raised her head and saw John on top of him. Pummeling him. Over and over again. She struggled to her feet and staggered over to Albert. He was bleeding and barely conscious. But he was breathing.

  The sound of flesh on flesh reverberated in her ear. She turned back to John. Ernesto lay unmoving underneath him. John flipped Ernesto on his stomach, dug his knee into his back, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Call 911.”

  She didn’t respond. She stared at his right shoulder where Ernesto’s knife had cut through his jacket and a layer of muscle. Blood oozed from the wound.

  “Lily.”

  Her eyes jerked to John’s. His eyes were steady and gave her strength.

  “Call the police. Now.”

  She nodded and ran inside.

  * * *

  Lily glanced at John as he spoke to one of the officers, then she rushed to the ambulance when she saw them loading Albert’s gurney inside. “I called your mother. She’s on her way to meet you at the hospital.”

  Albert nodded. “I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean...” A round of coughing interrupted him.

  “I’m okay,” she said for the tenth time. The boy seemed to accept her reassurances at last and closed his eyes. A minute later, the ambulance pulled away.

  She walked toward John as he talked to one of the responding officers. Ernesto glared at her, and then at John, from the backseat of a departing cruiser as another patrol car carried away his friends.

  She shivered. John was right, she thought. She was too soft. Took too many chances.

  John saluted Ernesto in a mocking farewell. The boy narrowed his eyes before he disappeared.

  She and John had made a dangerous enemy in the gang leader.

  John came up next to her. “How are you holding up?”

  “Fine.” She was sore, had bruises, and was suffering from heightened adrenaline, but she was okay. “I guess you were right about not being too trusting. Even Albert—” Her voice broke and she turned to go inside. John stopped her with a touch on her arm.

  “I talked to Albert,” he said quietly. “He didn’t willingly lead them here. He came to give you something. They followed him. Threatened to kill you unless he knocked on the door. They said they just wanted to talk to you.” He looked around and saw a package wrapped in plain brown paper. He picked it up and handed it to her. “This must be what he was bringing to you.”

  She stared at it in confusion but refused to take it. John tore open the package and pulled out a small object. Lily gasped when she saw it. She walked closer and put her hand on it, acutely aware that her hand touched his. She stared down at the crudely crafted mosaic, and traced the pattern with one finger.

  �
��It’s a lily. He made me a lily.”

  John smiled and then raised a hand to her cheek. “I wasn’t right this time, Lily. That boy didn’t want to hurt you.”

  She stopped, a sudden hope forming in her chest.

  When she didn’t resist, he gave a sigh of relief and pulled her into his arms. He rocked her. And then he pulled back and kissed her.

  She sighed and melted into him.

  * * *

  John kissed Lily slowly. Gently. Taking his time. The world had gone into slow motion and if he made a wrong move or pushed too hard then she would disappear like smoke.

  He raised his hands and gently caressed her neck. She winced and he pulled back immediately, noting that her neck was slightly bruised and obviously still tender to the touch.

  Renewed anger blasted through him like wildfire. He wanted to drive to the county jail and beat the gangbangers who had done this to her. She must have sensed the intensity of his anger because she rubbed her hands up and down his arms. “I’m okay,” she whispered.

  He nodded and let go of her. His arms moved reluctantly as if he didn’t want to release her. He didn’t. And neither did she. She clung to him before catching his hand in hers and guiding him toward the house.

  Once inside, the languorous haze they were in seemed to subside. She cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair, which was caked with mud. “I’ll be right back. I’ll get you a towel.”

  “Okay.”

  John didn’t move while she was gone. When she came back with a towel, she’d changed into baggy sweats and a T-shirt. He wondered if she’d just wanted to be comfortable or if she was hiding from him. Trying to make herself look as unappealing as possible. It hadn’t worked. She looked soft. Vulnerable. As if she were afraid he’d discover something about her that was too close and personal.

  Too damn bad, John thought. He wanted close. He wanted personal. He wanted anything he could get from her.

  Suddenly, he remembered how out of place she’d looked in the prison. His relief that she was relatively unharmed was overshadowed by remembered anger that she’d placed herself in danger earlier that day. That her actions might indeed make it harder for him to do what he’d wanted to do all along—help her.

  He took the towel she offered and swiped uselessly at the dirt on his jeans. She followed the movement of his hands, seeming unable to tear her gaze away from his arms, then legs, then crotch. John felt himself hardening and pushing against his pants.

  She cleared her throat again and seemed to shake herself. “I’ll make us some coffee,” she murmured and tried to turn away. John took her arm.

  “Later,” John said, his touch gentle but his voice harsher than he intended. Her eyes widened and he released her. Forced himself to lower his voice. “We need to talk about this morning, Lily.”

  She turned away from him and walked several steps away. “It’s none of your concern, John.”

  The stupidity of that comment suddenly had him seeing red. “You want to say that to me again?”

  She turned and a mulish expression took over her face. “It’s none—”

  He strode toward her, not hesitating until he was almost on top of her.

  “—of your—” she continued, taking several steps backward.

  “Shut up.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but only for a moment. She straightened her shoulders and stuck out her chin, five foot two inches of female bravado. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

  He laughed. Suddenly, all the restraint he normally tried to exercise in her presence was gone. All the things he told himself about her—that she was too small, too fragile, too innocent to handle the demands of a man like him—were forgotten.

  She’d been his from the moment he’d seen her. Ten years old, eyes wide, blushing furiously at the sight of him coming out of his swimming pool. Oh, she hadn’t been his in a sexual sense. Not even in a romantic sense. She’d been the missing part of his heart, the one capable of filling the void once his father was gone. He’d worried about her, teased her, protected her, anguished over her. Hell, he’d driven away from her, leaving her in that damn rehabilitation hospital, leaving her in the hands of his mother and her father, because he’d thought that was what was best for her.

  And now she wanted to put herself in danger? To hand herself over to scum like Hardesty so they could crucify her? Well, she’d have to get through him first.

  Her eyes widened. “What are you thinking?”

  “You. You’re what I’m thinking about. You…you—” He felt heat pound behind his eyes. Under his skin.

  The mood in the room had changed rapidly. It was as if the danger she’d been in, both in theory and then in reality, had changed things. There wasn’t any more time for playing games.

  There wasn’t a way in hell he was going to let more time go by without letting her know how he felt about her.

  She was his.

  Obviously sensing his mood, she breathed fast, her gaze darting nervously behind him to the door.

  He narrowed his eyes and stalked her, not liking the way she moistened her lips with her tongue and backed away, like a rabbit catching scent of a predator. He didn’t want her to fear him. Ever. But at the same time it comforted him to know she had some sense of self-preservation. She certainly hadn’t shown it when she’d visited the prison. “Nothing to say? How about telling me what the hell you were thinking? Are you trying to make yourself look guilty? Because Hardesty sure as hell thinks you are.”

  Anger flared in her eyes and she placed one hand on her cocked hip. “You think I—? You’re the one that’s crazy.”

  He threw his hands up in the air, not trusting himself to touch her. “When I work an investigation, everyone is under suspicion, Lily. That includes the daughter of the victim. The same daughter who fought with the victim before she was murdered. The same daughter who discovered the body!”

  He’d finally shocked her into silence. Her face was suddenly pale. Her eyes horrified. Her expression reminded him of the way she’d looked the night of the murder. As if her whole world had just come crashing down in the blink of an eye.

  This time he did touch her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. Caressed them. “God. Don’t you get it? This is not a game. How am I supposed to protect you when you do something so stupid?”

  He forced himself to let go of her. Walking to the living room window, he planted his hands on his hips and stared blindly at the street outside.

  As quickly as he acquired control, he lost it. Because he didn’t want to scare her to save her. He didn’t want to push her away in order to protect her.

  Concentrating on the heavy sound of his own breathing, he told himself he needed to leave.

  “You really think—” Her voice broke. “How can you think I killed my mother?”

  John hung his head and sighed, then turned around. One hand covered her mouth and her eyes glittered with a moist combination of hurt and fear. Tenderness swamped him, banking his resignation and fanning his love for her.

  All he’d ever wanted was to be the man she’d thought he was. To protect her. And hold her. And love her. And yes, make love to her. Knowing he couldn’t say the words, knowing that she’d only think he was crazy, he wanted to show how much he loved her with his body. He struggled with the urge to pick her up and carry her to bed. To shut out the world and everything that would try to keep them apart.

  Knowing she was scared, he made a desperate attempt to answer her question. “Of course I don’t think that, Lily. But that doesn’t mean someone else won’t. Hardesty’s saying you were there.”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “Yes. He says you told him about the fight with your mom. He showed up at your house afterward. He came in and you were with your mother. And she was dead.”

  She gagged. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He walked up to her and caught her in his arms, hanging on when she fought him. Pulling her face into his chest, he
tried not to cry for her. For the both of them.

  “How do you think the A.G. is going to feel when he learns you withheld information? When he finds out you purposely went to the prison to see Hardesty, knowing I’d already told you not to?” He shook his head as guilt punched him in the gut. “How’s he going to feel when I tell him I kissed you? I shouldn’t have. But I did. And you kissed me back.”

  She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her. He couldn’t do it anymore. He was sick of it all. Sick of denying he wanted her. Sick of denying himself. Cupping her face, he raised it so he could stare into her eyes. “And you know what? I want to kiss you again. And again. And again.”

  Shaking her head, she only goaded him on. Just once, he wanted them to be honest with each other. He wanted to say the words out loud. To have her say them back. And for neither one of them to care about their age. Their circumstances. This damn investigation. Just a man and woman. Drawn to one another by chemistry. By history. And by destiny.

  Destiny had brought him back to Sacramento. It was why he’d never fallen in love before—not enough to bind himself to another woman for life. And it was why he’d taken a job that had brought him back into Lily’s life. Fate had conspired to give him what he’d always wanted but had been too stupid to take. Lily.

  “Listen, you’re just upset. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone today. I just—”

  Her attempt at reason came too late. The beast inside of him had been unleashed. And it didn’t want to be put back inside its cage.

  He leaned down and kissed her, smashing his mouth against hers in a desperate melding of lips and tongue. Wanting to immerse them both in his love, creating an impenetrable barrier between them and the world. When he pulled back, they were both panting and she hung limply in his arms.

  “Do you hear what I’m telling you, Lily? I’m not playing games. I want you. All of you. But I want more than your body. I want to hear you laugh again. I want to watch you draw and talk to you about your dreams and tell you about mine. I want to show you how I’ve changed, and how I’m trying to be a better man because of you. I’m trying to be someone who deserves you.”

  Lily flushed until her cheeks and throat sizzled pink and her chest heaved. Her warmth seeped into his palm and radiated all the way down to his toes.