Getting Hot (Jail Bait Book 3) (20 page)

Chapter 31

Bran

When I see Lilah walking toward me through the drizzle with an older woman, I stride in their direction.

“Are you okay?” I ask when I reach her. She’s pale, and looks shell shocked.

She nods but doesn’t say anything.

I loop an arm around her shoulder and start guiding her to my car.

“I’ll look for you next Saturday, Lilah,” the woman says to her back. “Please don’t miss.”

She doesn’t respond.

I help her into my car, then get us the hell out of here. Once we’re away from the hospital, I pull to the side of the road. “Talk to me Lilah.”

She shakes her head. “I need to talk to Destiny.”

Something happened in there and my natural instinct is to protect her, but I can’t protect her from her own demons.

When we get to her apartment, I walk her up. I know the situation with Destiny might still be delicate, but Lilah’s pretty out of it and I’m not going to chance her breaking her neck on those steep stairs. I know that was the right call when she leans on me for support when we reach the top. She opens the door and I follow her through, my arm firmly around her waist. Destiny is on the couch, Mom’s old TV playing a
The
Big Bang Theory
rerun. When she sees me there’s a flash of anger in her eyes…until she gets a look at her sister. She’s off the couch like a shot, crossing the room to us.

“What happened to her?” she demands.

“That’s Lilah’s place to tell you,” I say.

I start to turn Lilah over to her sister, but she wraps her arms around me and presses her face into my neck. “Thank you,” she whispers. She holds me for several beats of my pounding heart before her grip loosens, but it’s a moment longer before I can force my arms to let her go.

I kiss the top of her head, then draw back. “You two have some things to deal with, and I don’t want to make that harder on you than it has to be, but just know, I’ll always be here if there’s anything you need.” I lift my eyes to Destiny’s. “Both of you.”

I turn for the door and head down the stairs to my car. It’s Saturday and I need to get to the bar. But I can’t help looking up at Lilah’s window before I get in, hoping she and Destiny will be able to help each other through whatever this is.

Chapter 32

Lilah

I watch the door well after Bran is gone. Destiny sits next to me on the couch and combs her fingers through my hair and I still watch the spot where he was.

“Bran took me to my appointment with Mary,” I finally say.

Her hand stops.

I clear my throat. “I know Dad isn’t in jail.”

She sighs and shakes her head cautiously. “How much did you remember?” she asks.

I face her. “All of it.”

Her face crumples.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice lowering.

“You were so young, and you’d blocked it all out. I didn’t want you to remember. I wanted you to be able to grow up without being haunted by that memory.”

“Is that why we ran? Why you told me not to look back?”

“Think about it, Lilah. People died. I didn’t know what was going to happen with the house…if it was going to burn the bodies or if they would know what happened.”

“Do they know?”

“That Dad and that guy were dead before the fire?” She shakes her head. “I watched the news and never saw anything. I guess they figured a couple of tweakers dying in a meth fire wasn’t unusual. They probably didn’t even investigate.”

“What about Mom?”

Her lip curls. “What about her?”

“Is she really in jail?”

She nods. “She belongs there, Lilah. She stopped being our mother then day she started using.”

“But they don’t know she killed Dad?”

“No.”

There’s a lump of emotion in my throat that I don’t want to feel. “She did that for us, Destiny.”

Her jaw tightens. “She did it for herself. You know he hit her, Lilah. You spent years watching it happen.”

“But, right then…she saved us.”

She stands and moves to the kitchen. “Believe what you want. I know she hasn’t given a shit about us for most of our lives.”

I know she’s right, but all of a sudden, I want to hear it from her. “I want to see her.”

Her eyes narrow and she starts shaking her head. “No way, Lilah.”

“It’s been two years. She’s got to be clean now.”

“I don’t care. She’s not our mother anymore.”

I know from the look on her face that I’m not going to win this. I take a deep breath and click on the TV.

♫

When I walk into Sam Hill, Bran is behind the bar and every inch of me aches when I see him. I’ve taken the last five days to pull my shit together. He’s texted me every day to check in, but he’s given me space.

I set my guitar case on the stool that seems to be mine now and unlatch it.

Bran slides a Coke across the bar to me and sets out a tip jar. “Was hoping I’d see you tonight.”

Now that he’s snagged my gaze, I can’t shake free. He comes slowly around the bar and takes my hand, then pulls me through the kitchen door. He pulls me into his arms and buries his face into my hair. “God, I’ve missed you.”

I sink against him and soak up the feeling of his strong arms holding me close, the warmth of his breath in my hair, the tenderness of his lips on my forehead, down my temple, across my cheekbone, eventually finding my mouth. He kisses me, so slowly, but with every ounce of himself.

Right here, right now, I know this is where I belong.

“I love you,” I whisper when he draws away.

“I want so badly to help you, Lilah, but I feel so fucking helpless.”

I look up at him and he kisses the tip of my nose. “There’s something you can do.”

“Anything.”

“I need a ride to San Francisco.”

♫

I asked Destiny to come with us, but she wouldn’t even consider it. She tried to forbid me to come, but I told her I needed this for my sanity.

When I walk into the prison, I’m shaking. Bran has my hand and I’m gripping so hard I’m sure I’m about to snap his fingers. They make me store my bag in a locker and go through a metal detector before they let me into the visitation room.

“I’ll be right here if you need me,” Bran says, gesturing at a row of chairs near the storage lockers.

I press against him and he wraps me in his arms.

He kisses the top of my head. “I’ve got you.”

“Don’t let me go.”

“Never,” he says, squeezing tighter.

I want to ask him to come with me, but there are things I need to ask my mom that I’m not totally sure I want anyone else, even Bran, hearing. Though, I can’t imagine I won’t tell him everything at some point.

He kisses me again and I draw away and turn for the door. I walk into a large room with rows of tables and benches bolted to the floor. There are a few tables near the back that are occupied, but the majority are not. I take a seat at the one across from the door and wait. It’s a few minutes later that a door in the back opens and a woman walks through. She’s skinny enough that her gray jumpsuit hangs off her. Her blond hair is pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck. When she lifts her head I see Destiny’s blue eyes looking at me, hollow, but not quite as dead as the last time I saw them.

I stand as she approaches the table. “Mom.”

“God, Lilah. You’re so beautiful.” She looks like she’s deciding if she should shake my hand or hug me or just sit.

This isn’t some big, touching reunion. I have no idea what I’m feeling for this woman who was never really my mother. I’m not really even sure if I’m ready for the conversation I have to have to get the answers I need. I sit and she slides into a seat across from me.

“You look okay,” I say, only realizing I wish she didn’t when I hear the disappointment in the words. I want to know she’s suffered at least as much as Destiny and me, but she looks like nothing’s ever happened.

“Despite everything,” she says, flicking her jumpsuit, “I’m good. How are you and Destiny?”

I glare at her. “There’s no point in pretending you care now when you never did before.”

Her eyes moisten, but I refuse to let myself feel even a pang of regret for telling her the truth, even if she doesn’t want to hear it.

“I need to know what happened the night of the fire.”

She looks suddenly uncomfortable and shoots a glance at the guard near the door she came through. “What do you want to know?”

“What did they arrest you for?”

She picks at frayed fingernails. “Your dad wasn’t very discreet. The cops had been watching the house for months. When the fire broke out they figured it was a lab explosion.”

At the mention of Dad, I see him crumpled on the floor with a bloody dent in his head. “It took me a while to really remember what happened that night.”

Her eyes flick to me and then back to her fingernails. “That might be a good thing.”

“Destiny had a mental…something…a breakdown or whatever.”

Something like concern flashes in her eyes. “Because of that night?”

“You really just asked me that?” I feel rage swirl my insides into a cyclone. “Because of every fucking thing you and Dad did to us.”

She lowers her gaze.

There are two answers I need. The sooner I ask the questions, the sooner I can be out of here. “Why didn’t you wait to set the fire until Destiny and I were out?”

Her frail body heaves with a deep breath and she hangs her head deeper. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Because you were stoned,” I spit.

She offers a feeble nod. “I…” She trails off and shakes her head. “I think I forgot you were upstairs. I just knew I needed to burn the bodies before anyone else came in and found them.”

“You forgot us.” The words are acid leaving my mouth.

She cringes up at me, but doesn’t respond.

I push the cyclone of emotions that I don’t fully understand away and ask the next question. “Why did you kill Dad?”

There’s no doubt she understands what I’m asking when her eyes flick to the guard near the door. She lowers her gaze guiltily. “It just happened.”

I shake my head. “None of it ‘just happened.’ Things like that don’t ‘just happen.’”

Her eyes narrow. “You think I meant for that to happen?”

“I don’t know what I think. All I know is that one second Dad is carving a hole in Destiny’s forehead, and the next, there’s a hole in his.”

She takes a deep breath and the creases ease from her face. “He changed when he started using.” She shakes her head. “I guess I did too. I know I didn’t do right by you girls. I let him hurt you. When I realized how much, I couldn’t live with myself.”

“He more than
hurt
us,” I say, the fury eating a hole through me at the image of the guy pinning Destiny to the wall.

Her eyes drop to the bleeding cuticle she’s been picking at. “I should have stopped it before it went that far.”

“You think?” I spit.

She cringes up at me. “Things were complicated.”

“They weren’t
complicated
,” I say, standing. “They were easy. You were our
mother
. Your one job was to take care of us. But the only thing you took care of was your habit. You
forgot
us! Nearly burnt us alive!”

I can’t stay here anymore. Just being in the same room as her is making me sick. I spin for the door.

“Lilah, wait!”

I want to keep walking. I want to not care. But I can’t stop myself from turning to look at her. She’s standing, her hands braced on the table as if she needs the support. “You lit the fire,” I say, not even caring who hears. “You trapped Destiny and me in that house to burn. All you’ve ever given a shit about is yourself.”

A tear leaks over her lashes and she drops into her seat like a ton of bricks.

I don’t know what she thinks is supposed to happen. If she thinks I’m going to go over there, patting her on the back and telling her not to cry, that everything’s okay, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Hope you enjoy burning in hell,” I say, spinning for the door. “It’s the least you deserve.”

When I burst through the door, Bran is pacing on the other side. He stops and looks a question at me. I step into his arms and hate the tears that spring to my eyes. I don’t want to care enough to spare even a single tear for her. She doesn’t deserve it.

He retrieves my things from the locker and guides me to the exit without a word. And even when we’re finally alone in the car, he doesn’t push me to talk.

I lean back and close my eyes. “I killed a man.”

The tears roll down my face as I say it. He pulls me against his shoulder. I cry and he holds me as he drives. I feel his strength. I feel his love. I feel him in my soul, and it spills over into him.

I press my face into his shoulder and start talking, and when I’m done, we’re home and rain has started to shower down on us like the tears I finally let myself cry.

And Bran knows everything.