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“I’ll be seeing you soon, Lilah.” His voice was so low at the end that it almost rumbled, vibrating through me. The call disconnected, and I still couldn’t find it in me to move. My phone beeped, notifying me of a text.

Eliot: Let me know when you’re inside and the doors are locked.

Lilah: Bossy

I replied before I could think better of it, grabbing my purchases and finally making my way in.

Once inside, I locked the front door, leaning against it to pull my shoes off. Haphazardly, I dropped my purse and keys on the table in the entryway. Gently placing the packages from my mini shopping spree down, I finally grabbed my phone.

Eliot: Lilah…The text was waiting for me, making me smile. A feeling of warmth spread through me as I typed my reply.

Lilah: Sir yes sir! I am in the house and the doors are locked. Safe and sound for the night.

Eliot: Sweet dreams Angel.

My dreams were anything but sweet, and it was entirely his fault.

Chapter 7

Scythe

Lilah’s voice and the way she rushed her words when she asked for Mom’s information were endearing. Any arguments I had to stay away from her seemed to disappear as she broke every boundary she didn’t even realize was in place.

Mom was thrilled to hear from her, and she invited her over for dinner that week. After that, they met every week for a “Chat and craft night,” as my mom called it. She had taken Lilah under her wing. I knew because she talked about her every time we spoke.

Not to mention what I had seen for myself. My mom’s house was equipped with the highest level of security, including interior and exterior cameras. With audio. And yes, I had spent more time—minutes, hours—than I cared to admit looking at the footage, watching Lilah. In the past few weeks, she had become a frequent fixture at Mom’s house and on my screen.

There was no way for her to know I could see her, so there was no possibility that she could be playing a game. Her genuine care and interest in Mom was one of the first things that got to me. I didn’t know much about Lilah. The background check I had Keys run was the bare minimum—what I ran for anyone who spent time with Mom.

No arrests, but not much else. It seemed she grew up and stayed living and working in Villanova. She up and moved suddenly a little under a year ago, a few months before her wedding day—something I knew from my snooping, not from the check.

The house Lilah lived in near Mom was a rental, she had perfect credit, and she paid all her bills on time. She worked two jobs while attending PCA&D full time. A new cell phone carrier and number had been activated when she moved, and there were no incoming or outgoing calls to numbers associated with the area she grew up in.

That meant her parents hadn’t called to check on her since the move. They were alive. A quick Google search showed that. Pictures of her parents and her sister were available everywhere. Fancy business folks, they posed and fawned for the paparazzi at a variety of events. Lilah was nowhere to be seen. The last publication that mentioned her was over two years earlier, announcing her engagement to Kyle.

The photos attached bothered me. Not because I was jealous—which I was—but because the Lilah in those pictures didn’t look anything like the warm, colorful woman I had met. Her face was frozen in a half-smile that looked fake, forced. Never making eye contact with the camera or the people she was standing with, she had a lost look about her, like she was waiting for someone. She looked tired and stressed out. Thinner and in boring clothes, it was like she was trying to blend in or disappear into the background.

Even then, she didn’t. I didn’t think she ever could. Not in my eyes, at least. I could admit to myself, at least, that I had feelings of some kind for Lilah. Feelings I had never felt before. I wanted to spend time with her. I wanted to make her smile. I wanted to protect her and take care of her. I wanted her to look at me the way Fee looked at Bash. I wanted to learn every inch of her body until I had it memorized just by touch and sound.

Dreams and cravings I had never experienced before were bubbling under my skin, and they always circled back to her. We had texted a bit since that last phone call. She let me know whenever she went to visit Mom. I used that as a way to find out whatever I could about her. We had spoken via text, and the messages were the highlight of my week.

Lilah: Just got to Beth’s!

Scythe: Don’t cause too much trouble.

Later that night, she sent a picture of her and Mom with their knitting needles and crafts.

Lilah: If someone starts trouble, we’re armed and ready.

Laughing, I saved the picture, looking at it at least once a day as I waited for another chance to talk to her.

Meanwhile, the rest of my world stayed exactly the same—concrete, dim lights, and the hum of the clubhouse. Even though I had my own room on the main floor, the basement was my domain. The paint shop and cells were my territory.

There were more nights than I cared to admit where I crashed in the infirmary, feeling more comfortable on the tiny cot than in the cushiony suite that was gifted to me when I was officially patched in.

Making my way to the kitchen, I tried to focus on the weekend’s run. Fiona’s due date had come and gone three days before, and everyone was on extra alert, so plans were up in the air.

Atlas, Fee’s brother, was in town. Atlas was actually a member of the SC Charter of the club. None of us had realized he had any connection to Fiona until they saw each other in person for the first time in a decade.