When he came back, he’d put on weight and didn’t look so antsy. He told me he went to football training, but I wasn’t stupid. Dad had spent hours while he was gone screaming at my mom about how badly she screwed up in raising a son worth a damn outside of football and was throwing away his future. The rehab facility he went to was thrown out in the argument while I locked my bedroom door and huddled in the corner like a terrified child. But when Dad got pissed like that, no one was safe.
“I’m fine, Lilly.”
“Don’t make me regret this shit, Huntington.”
Keaton tossed Josh his keys, tagged with his name and Josh hauled me off toward his truck parked in the street.
“I hate you for this,” I muttered. There was no more point in fighting it.
“You’ll thank me someday. And promise me, you ever go to a party or place like this and need help, you’ll call me. I don’t give a shit where I am, I’ll always be there to take care of you, yeah?”
“Whatever.”
Josh stumbled and let go of my arm. He tripped over something in the yard and laughed a strange laugh as he righted himself.
“Damn. Where’d that come from?”
I didn’t see anything, but it didn’t matter, Josh shoved me playfully and then shouted, “Race you!”
I had no hope of beating him but that didn’t mean I didn’t try.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my dad shouting about something being wrong with Josh’s truck, a pale bruise on my arm, and a strange feeling in my gut.
But it never stopped me from keeping my promise.
5
Hudson
The pictures I’d seen of Lilliana Huntington didn’t do her justice. I stood in the parking lot outside the cover of the flickering lights, my car parked in the hotel parking lot next door so I could prepare myself to see Lilly.
I put my dad off for a week. His SUV was now fixed, a leak in his coolant line like Lilly predicted, and now he was more focused than ever.
My hands were shoved into the pockets of my athletic pants. I hadn’t intended to come tonight.
If I had my say, I wouldn’t have come at all, but Dad called me out earlier today and left me feeling like shit.
There was nothing I could say to her that he hadn’t already done or tried.
But God… this was torture.
Her hair was pulled back, a low ponytail at the base of her neck. The uniform she wore was atrocious, straight out of the sixties, that matched the diner motif with all the chipped vinyl booths and speckled tabletops. Her makeup was heavy, making her look harder and fiercer than I knew she did otherwise. Without it, she looked young. So much younger than twenty-five. Freckles laid a bridge over her nose, connecting her cheeks and her lips were made for smiles and kissing. Now, it was painted a vicious shade of dark red, thick black lining her eyes made her round eyes smaller, almost narrowed with irritation. She didn’t wear jewelry, not even a watch. She painted herself in a way that said back the fuck off. I hadn’t even met her yet, but I still wanted to scrub all that shit off her so I could see her.
She served a table of four guys, too happy and into shoulder-slapping their buddies to be sober, with the patience of a woman who had none.
And I stood outside in the dark, like a fucking psycho.
I headed toward Judith’s when Lilly pushed through a set of silver swinging doors and disappeared from view. The four-top of guys watched her, that leering look told me they wanted her to serve up more than burgers and milkshakes.
She worked in a shithole diner and probably lived in a shithole place when she was the daughter of a state judge, probably grew up in private schools with a Mercedes gifted to her on her sixteenth birthday and more money than my own parents had. This shouldn’t be her life.
She’s better than this. Better than her circumstance and I believe her. She just needs someone to help.
The memory of Melissa’s pleading eyes made me squeeze my own eyes shut. “Fucking bleeding heart.”
Since she could walk, she had a calling to save everything from kittens and frogs and turtles in the road to classmates and children where she worked.
One last request. Promise me.
I’d wanted to throttle her slim, pale throat.
I gripped the door handle and scowled at the silver-plated handle, before I threw it open.
“Happy now?” I asked, and somehow, I knew she was.
Lilly was still in the back when I entered. Where Dad said she always stood, there was an old laptop with notebooks spread open. I took the seat at the far end and waited, snagging a menu from the counter on my way.
The food was cheap, basic diner food, perfect for the clientele a place like this brought in. Greasy, thick burgers, patty melts, and Reubens. Sandwiches and burgers and two salad options.
It was late enough none of it appealed to me. Probably why my dad came for the pies.
Fortunately for me, he’d said they were the best he’d ever tasted, and I’d inherited his sweet tooth.
The creak of old, squeaky door hinges rang out and I lifted my head.
Lilly came out carrying a tray stacked with food, focused on the four-top. I didn’t move for fear of distracting her. Not a great first impression to make if she ended up covered in grease and condiments.
The guys at the table did more shoulder-slapping, whooping and hollering like they were watching the Super Bowl and not their food being delivered. I kept my eyes on them, waiting for one to give me a reason to put an end to all of them. The dark-haired guy would be first. He sat at the outer edge of the booth and as Lilly leaned forward to deliver a tray to the guy next to him, his hand hovered inches from her backside.
The blond across the table egged him on with a nod but she stood back, put space between them, and barked, “Even think of touching me and none of you are leaving with your dicks still attached to your body.”
“Oohh. I’ll show you mine happily,” one said, hands dropping to his lap.
She glared at him, resting bitch face I was certain she learned in prison firmly in place. It didn’t look right on her. Too hard. Too forced.
What would she have been like as a smiling, happy teenager before life was stolen from her?
Damn it. I felt it then. That pull my dad had when he first saw her.
She’d lost too much.
She dropped the three remaining plates at the edge of the table so she didn’t have to get too close and swung her tray around, almost smacking one of them in the head. He ducked and cursed at her.
My hands balled into fists. I’d hit him first.
“Need anything else?”
“Yeah, our food without a bitch serving it,” another said.
He’d be next.
“Whatever.” She swung around and headed toward the counter. She pulled to an abrupt stop, jaw dropping, eyes widening when she saw me.
Her steps restarted quickly and she dropped the large brown tray on a stand filled with a stack of them.
“Good evening.”
Amazingly, her anger from the table before wiped clean in a moment as she skirted behind the counter. Fake smile plastered in place.
I hated it instantly, almost more than the hard look she’d just given those guys.
“What can I get for you?”
“Have any apple pie left? My dad says it’s the best.”